Sunday, October 17, 1999: Hogshooter, OK
I had walked about five miles east of Bartlesville this afternoon when I saw a sign indicating that there was an evening service at New Harmony Baptist Church about two miles away. The timing was perfect, and the rest of my day was planned in an instant. I would walk south two miles, attend their Sunday evening service, and ask the preacher if I could camp in back of the church after the service. The preacher (Tom) said, "I don't see why that would be a problem," showed me where to set up my tent, introduced me to some folks, and made me feel welcome. Tonight was the beginning of a revival week at New Harmony Baptist Church, and I was happy to be there.
Monday, October 18, 1999: Nowata, OK
The most memorable moment of my walk to Nowata today had to be the moment when about fifteen dogs came running out onto the gravel road before me, barking and making sure that I could see their sharp, white teeth. I am used to one or two dogs running out to greet me with barks and vicious snarls, sometimes three or four, but I have never in my life seen this many dogs together.
They blocked the road and began to slowly move toward me. I reached for the pepper spray, took it out of its safety position, and slowly kept walking. The dogs were trying to circle me, so I began moving to the side to keep them all in front of me where I could see them. At this point, thoughts raced through my head like, "There is no way that I can spray all of these dogs. If I spray one, will the rest back down or will they attack?" I began to experience fear, and I could tell that they knew it. They started to get more aggressive and moved in way too close to my legs, and I felt my fear turn into anger. I started aiming the bottle of pepper spray at them, yelling, "Do you want some of this?" I thought about the owner of the dogs and the fact that dealing with him after spraying his dogs might be more dangerous than just the dogs themselves. What kind of person would have that many dogs around their house anyway? I assumed the worst--that he was manufacturing methamphetamine and had a real hot temper. A woman came out of the house and started screaming at the dogs, but they ignored her. I just kept moving to the side, keeping all the dogs in front of me, and yelling, "Do you want some of this?" Before I knew it, the dogs were still blocking the road, but I was on the other side! I began to slowly walk backwards down the road with pepper spray in my hand while they continued to bark and follow me. One by one, they started to drop off and go back home, but the biggest ones stayed with me for quite awhile. Eventually, I was able to turn around and keep on walking. Quite an exciting and potentially dangerous ten minutes, to say the least. My heart rate returned to normal about three hours later.
After fourteen miles of gravel roads and the dogs from hell, I finally reached the little town of Nowata. The Nowata Police had kindly given me permission to camp in the town's park, but I met a man named Leon who let me camp out at his auto salvage yard. Tomorrow I'll walk on toward Vinita.
Tuesday, October 19, 1999: east of Nowata
So, I am in a cafe this morning, and I have just enjoyed a high-carb breakfast of two pancakes with hashbrowns as well as a delightful conversation with a waitress named Sherri. She was letting me use their phone to pick up my morning's e-mail when a sheriff walked in. Immediately when he walked through the door, he pointed at my pack and said, "Whose is that?" The second question came with a gruff voice as he approached me, and it was, of course, "You got some ID?"
Once again, I have been immediately judged by my appearance as a vagrant, a drifter, a probably up-to-no-good, potential criminal. Why do they have to do that? I understand that he has probably dealt with folks who came before me that gave vagrancy a bad name, or maybe he has just had a bad morning. It really doesn't bother me so much when they stop and ask me for ID out on the road, but when they ask me if I "got some" ID with that particular "guilty prior to investigation" tone of voice in the middle of a cafe, it makes me feel very uncomfortable. Now I have to spend the next few miles forgiving this guy, telling myself that he is just doing his job, and removing any trace of resentment toward him that might disrupt the peace and sense of well-being that I felt before he walked in the door. I feel better now.
Wednesday, October 20, 1999: Vinita, OK
I have made it to Vinita, and my time is up on this computer at the public library. I will write more when I can. Things are going very well. The weather has been perfect for walking, and it is supposed to continue to be that way through the rest of the week.
Thursday, October. 21, 1999: Bear's Den Resort near Grove, OK
I walked east out of Vinita today, heading for Grand Lake and Grove, Oklahoma. Unfortunately, I walked on Highway 60 for about six miles, because to travel the same six miles east on gravel roads required walking about ten miles. I am still not in solid walking condition yet, so I chose the easier, softer way.
This particualar highway was extremely busy with just a tiny strip of pavement on the side that could hardly be described as a shoulder. I met an old man out in his front yard who told me that the day they raised the turnpike fee to eleven dollars for trucks to travel from the Missouri state line to Tulsa, was the day that the truckers all started using Highway 60 instead.
Nothing disrupts a pleasant day's walk quite like huge eighteen wheelers rushing by, less than ten feet away, going sixty-five miles an hour. I walk on the left side of the road so I can see them coming, and I have developed a keen sense of knowing the precise moment just after they pass when I need to brace myself and hold on to my cap to avoid a short walk west to retrieve it. God forbid that they come from behind in the lane closest to me because they've felt the need to pass someone, despite the fact that there is a guy walking on the side of the road. Those are well remembered moments when my stomach has dropped down somewhere near my lower intestines, and I have literally had to stop walking for a while until I could calm down. It has happened a few times on my trip; however, it didn't happen today.
I had a nice visit with a highway patrol officer today. He was a very nice guy, but he fed the flames of my fear with quotes like, "You have more guts than I do. Do you know where you are? Man, you're heading straight into hillbilly heaven. Why did you pick this part of the country to walk through? Be really careful, and watch out for those rednecks." Like I said, he did a really good job of feeding my fear.
After walking quite a distance while playing out scenes of how my life here on Earth was going to end on an Arkansas back road at the hand of a violent redneck, I made it to Grand Lake and what I thought was a campground, judging by all the R.V.'s parked in a row. I set down my pack and went inside the office to ask how much it would cost to set up my tent for a night. This is the conversation that followed:
Me: How much would it cost to set up my tent here for a night?
Nice lady: Are you a member?
Me: No. I'm walking across America, and I thought this was a campground.
Nice lady: You're walking across America? Don't you have a coat?
Me: Yes, I carry a huge pack with the things that I need in it, like a coat.
Nice lady: Let me see it. (and she went outside to take a look)
Nice lady: Are you a Christian?
Me: Yes. Why do you ask?
Nice lady: I just thought you were. Wait right here a minute.
She disappeared into a back room of the office and returned with who I presumed was the resort's manager. After having a similar converstion with him, he said that I would be welcome to set up my tent as well as use any of the resort's facilites while I was here. I thanked them, and as I walked to my designated camping spot, past the showers, laundry facilities, minature golf course, fishing pond with paddle-boats, and through the club house with complimentary coffee, pool tables, couches, and direct TV, I could feel God at work. I could feel Him saying to me, "Are you going to trust Me?" I smiled and said, "I'm trying," and I felt it again. "Are you going to trust Me?"
Sometimes it takes moments like these for me to realize what is really taking place when I walk down a road for three hours while thinking about all the horiffic things that are going to happen to me on the back roads of Arkansas. What I am really doing during the time I spend worrying about the future is saying to the all-powerful God of the Universe, "I don't trust you." So, on October 21st, at The Bear's Den Resort near Grove, Oklahoma, God told me to stop worrying, and I was able to hear Him.
Sunday, October 24, 1999: Southwest City, Missouri
I woke up at 7am this morning and experienced what the weather forcast had predicted, lows in the twenties. My tent was covered with a thick frost that the sun was going to have to come out and melt before I could pack everything up. I needed hot coffee immediately, so I set up my motion sensitive security device (the latest in walking technology) in my tent and ran to the quick shop. The clock at the bank said 25 degrees.
In a town like Southwest City, the real life morning news isn't found in the morning paper, it is heard and experienced at the local quick shop. So, I bought a cup of coffee and sat down in a booth to see what was happening in the local news this morning. It seems that last night there was a fire. I had heard the sirens around 9pm and figured that there was a fire. What I didn't realize was that the cause of the fire might possibly be due to the fact that the house was poorly designed by a local man, and many of the folks knew it was only a matter of time before the house would be in flames. Fortunately, no one was hurt, and their most valuable possessions were not damaged.
Another top story this morning hit close to home for the girl working at the quick shop. It seems that her boyfriend as well as her brother spent the night in jail after being arrested for driving around with open containers of beer and whisky in the car. Although they were drunk, no one received a DUI because apparently they were already home when they were arrested, and there was some confusion as to who was driving at the time. The boys were released early this morning and stopped by the quick shop to give a more colorful description of exactly what took place last night.
