The Road to San Diego: Day 3

Little Rock, AR to Oklahoma City, OK Our first night of camping was uneventful and even a bit restful. Although the first moments in the tent held the promise of a muggy night's sleep, things cooled down pretty quickly. None of us were moving at any great clip as the sun rose over the lake. Daniel and I staggered down to the bathhouse first. By the time we returned, Wendy and a not-quite-conscious Jasa were getting things ready for their visit to the showers. Daniel and I gave the freeze-dried scrambled eggs a try, boiling several cups of water in no time flat with a Jet Boil stove. Quite a handy little gadget! I used some of the leftover water to test Wendy's taste buds. To Wendy, morning coffee is a religious experience. Freeze dried coffee is a mortal sin. While we were preparing for the trip, she asked me about coffee on at least a couple of occasions. I had come prepared with the real stuff from Starbucks AND a bit of Taster's Choice Columbian Supremo Instant, just to see if she could tell the difference. Before she returned, I added a couple of tablespoons of the aforementioned Coffee of Darkness to a cup, dumped in some water and stirred vigorously. Now, I must confess, that I had no idea how much coffee to put in the cup. My knowledge of coffee pretty much begins and ends at the point where my occasional latte fetish has to be scratched. It looked like a dark, rich and flavorful cup o' joe to me. When Wendy returned, she thankfully accepted the steaming cup of evil and took a sip. A rictus of pain and surprise spread across her face. Her first words featured the phrase, "What in the .....", along with a few comments worthy of a sailor. I revealed my duplicity and promised to make it up to her with a decent cup of brew once we hit the road. With a quick packing job and a quick stop in Little Rock for breakfast, we were once again bound for the West. One of the things that stood out to us during our traversal of Arkansas was the proliferation of "adult" stores along the Interstate. The only thing more prevalent, perhaps, was liquor outlets. Jasa promptly dubbed the Natural State as "The Land of Corn, Porn and Liquor". Maybe that was a tad bit harsh, since what land we did see from the superslab was pretty and the folks were friendly. As we rolled down the highway we were paying more attention to the mists rolling off of the tail of the Ozark hills than we were to the gas gage. About an hour after our breakfast stop, Wendy asked me to switch with her and take wheel. Climbing behind the wheel, I took a quick survey of the gagues (it's a guy thing). My attention was immediately drawn to the information panel which ominously read “Low Fuel”. Scrolling through the messages, I finally found the display which indicated the remaining miles based on gas. Zero. Alrighty, then! Time to get down the road post haste. Off went the A/C and all eyes were peeled for anything resembling a fuel stop. First exit…nothing. Second exit…still nothing. I was down to estimating our chances of getting AAA service in this relatively remote area when we found an exit with a lone service station. Thanking whatever gods watch over negligent drivers, we pulled into the pumps with a big sign of relief. Along with the usual traveler’s necessities, this particular stop sold fireworks. Next to marital aids and liquor, fireworks are the easiest things to find off of I-40 in Arkansas, so no surprise there. In front of the fireworks stand sat a couple of women in plastic chairs, lazily casting their eyes in our direction and...smoking. Now, I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing when surrounded by enough combustible material to send someone into orbit than firing up a cig. Filling the tank and grabbing a couple of snacks, we left the ladies to their game of Razorback Roulette. The rolling hills of the Ozarks slowly gave way to the plains of Oklahoma and by mid-afternoon we had found our way to the Oklahoma City East KOA to pitch our lodgings. As could be expected for a Sunday evening, there were few residents staying over, although there was one other tent. We quickly assembled the tent and made plans to drive the ten or so miles to the city proper. A quick stop to grab lunch at the Subway down the street and we were on our way. Our afternoon in Oklahoma City was spent exploring the memorial to the 1995 bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Building. With this visit, I have seen this site in three different stages. In September of 1995, the wounds were still fresh and the damaged building was a constant reminder of the hatred that some people can possess. In 2000, the site had been cleared, but no memorial had yet been erected. This time, we were able to pass through the "Gates of Time" and experience the three fateful minutes of that April morning. The 9:01 gate represents the world before the explosion. A world in which the term "terrorist" was never uttered in the same breath as "America". The grounds between the gates, including the chairs which represent each life lost in the event, is 9:02. The 9:03 gate leads visitors into the world of now in which the phrase "threat level" has entered common parlance. As striking as the site and its accompanying museum were, it was the stories of the lives lost that really made the event something much more than a twelve year old memory of newscasts. Appropriately, these stories are presented at the conclusion of the museum tour. Unfortunately, we did not have a chance to spend as much time as we would have liked reading these stories as the museum was preparing to close for the day. Afterwards, we made our way to the Brickyard section of town for a visit to a brewpub, followed by dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory. All in all, a great conclusion to a 300+ mile day.