There are lots of components to this plan, so please inform yourself about it. I hope you will VOTE YES on Valentine’s Day and encourage your friends and family members to also turn out and support our schools.

Visit my BRUIN VALENTINE website at http://bruinvalentine.com

This bond issue doesn’t just improve some old buildings and purchase needed equipment. It restructures our secondary schools to make them more efficient and help us prevent more teacher layoffs.

A major focus for this bond issue is to continue to reduce operating costs. Our state funding has been cut by over $2.6 million since 2009, forcing us to lay off dozens of teachers, increase class sizes, and cut programs. We cannot expect Oklahoma’s current crop of politicians to restore those funding cuts to our schools. In fact, their announced policies will likely only further reduce our funding in the coming years. We MUST become more efficient to weather this storm!

Last year we made the painful decision to close Oak Park, yielding hundreds of thousands of dollars in annual cost savings. The last big efficiency we can create is to shift from four to three secondary sites, again greatly reducing administrative and personnel overhead as well as utility costs. We’ve sold off Limestone and closed McKinley and Oak Park. This plan would allow us to eventually close and sell off the Education Service Center and Will Rogers as well. The public has elected politicians who stump about the need for greater efficiency in state services. Well, we’re doing everything we can to meet that challenge, but for this last big leap we need your help.

The plan includes:

• Expanding the senior high from serving only juniors and seniors to serving grades 10-12
• Switch the Mid-High from grades 9-10 to grades 8-9
• Replace Madison with a big new 6th and 7th Grade Center designed to function as a TRUE middle school
• Preserve and repurpose Central for its second century of use as a district site
• Eliminate nasty portable classrooms at Kane Elementary
• Fund essential technology, curriculum, and fine arts needs over the next ten years
• Continue to improve Custer Stadium and provide more tennis courts and renovate the historic Phillips Field House
• Fund ongoing maintenance projects and provide custodial and kitchen equipment
• Continue our ongoing program to maintain our fleet of buses and district vehicles

Read the details and get answers to your questions about the bond issue at bruinvalentine.com

The front and back books of my DC 3-packs were usually Justice League of America and Action or Detective Comics (aka Superman or Batman) while the middle would be some lesser title like Superboy or Green Lantern/Green Arrow. Since I only had a couple dozen or so comic books in all, I read and re-read some of those comics again and again, enough that images from several of the stories lingered over thirty-five years later.

My comic books were discarded decades ago, and although I would sometimes wish I’d kept Dagger in the Sky and other tales, I presumed I’d never see them again. Comics were printed on cheap paper and how could you possibly sift through the hundreds of titles at a comic book shop and hope to find the few you fondly remembered?

Well, the internet puts everything at your fingertips these days. Online databases let you see the covers from any mainstream comic book and you can then use that info to track down a digital download. Recently I’ve re-acquired a number of titles from my youth and enjoyed revisiting their artwork, if not their juvenile storylines.

You can click on any of the images here to enlarge them.

Memorable images from my youth

Dagger in the Sky from 1972′s Superman #256 was the story I remembered best. I was always struck by that plane-shaped hole ripped through the fabric of spacetime.

Dramatic action

And the dramatic take-off of the jet from the hanger lingered in my mind’s eye as well. I loved Superman stories where he used his brains as well as his brawn, since Superman was enough of a deus ex machina himself without needing silly assistance from robot Supermen and other junk from his Fortress of Solitude. I disliked stories involving kryptonite, especially the many weird variations, and despaired when Mr. Mxyzptlk would make another annoying appearance. Gosh, did I really like Superman? Doesn’t sound like it, does it?

First person shooter

The next month brought Detective Comics #428 with a dramatic first-person shooter cover. But I was never as fond of Batman as I was of Superman. I loved the campy Batman TV show, but the comics of the 1970s were a very different take on the caped crusader. They were dark and seething with rage, although not as down and dirty as Frank Miller’s influential 1986 The Dark Knight Returns, which truly isn’t my cup of tea in storyline or artwork. And while I liked the first of the Tim Burton Batman movies, they went downhill fast. The new Christian Bale movies are better, but are also quite grim.

A noirish Hawkman caper I liked

That same 1972 issue of Detective Comics had a moody noir-style Hawkman story which I liked for its somber atmosphere. I never read much of Hawkman, but that particular short tale stuck in my mind.

I always preferred Justice League of America stories to the comics dedicated to a single character. They had more variation in style and content. I was no doubt influenced by the Super Friends television show, and Wonder Woman in the comic books was a far more interesting female character than anyone in the sappy Superman Family comics, even if she was rather dull in Super Friends.

Wonder Woman was the brainchild of William Moulton Marston, a Harvard-educated psychologist and lawyer and inventor of the lie detector. That explains the magic lasso’s truth-telling power, but Charles Lyons points out that “Marston filled his stories with bondage (both male and female), spanking, sorority initiation rituals, cross-dressing, infantilism, and playful domination.”

Wonder Woman in a typical act of bondage

Lyons offers up a revealing comment by Marston in 1946:

Tell me anybody’s preference in story strips and I’ll tell you his subconscious desires…Superman and the army of male comics characters who resemble him satisfy the simple desire to be stronger and more powerful than anybody else. Wonder Woman satisfies the subconscious, elaborately disguised desire of males to be mastered by a woman who loves them.

She'd changed some by the 1970s

The original Wonder Woman

Wonder Woman changed styles with the times, starting out with a 40s hairstyle and ruffling skirt which were long gone by the time I read her tales in the 1970s Justice League comics.

But she retained her habit of either getting trussed or chained up herself or gleefully doing it to others.

A Sexy Superboy?

The most sexualized artwork I read as a kid was, oddly enough, in Superboy. Even at age 9 I could pick up on some of the homo- and hetero-erotic vibes. We all know what those teenage superheroes were really up to, don’t we? The costuming left little to the imagination, for males or females, but as a prepubescent I was no doubt even more distracted by the visual Star Trek references in their spaceships. The female costumes were also a reminder of 1960s Star Trek: the outfits, or lack of them, which Bill Theiss draped over the guest stars.

Your place or mine?

She used too much bleach when washing her costume

Which is stranger: Cosmic Boy's outfit or the junked U.S.S. Enterprise?

The 1970s were part of the Bronze Age of comics. The Golden Age had ended in the 1950s with the attacks by Fred Wertham and the consequent Comics Code. The Silver Age had brought back many superheroes in revamped costumes and modernized origin stories. The Bronze Age I grew up in added more self-consciously darker and “socially relevant” storylines, which did little for me.

I certainly didn’t like all of the parallel worlds that built up in the storylines to explain away various contradictions. Eventually DC had the Crisis storylines of the 1980s which revamped all of the continuity. I wasn’t reading any comics by then, so I missed out on all that. And I also missed out on the switch from mass comic reading by kids to avid collecting by adults. Readership declined but revenue was bolstered by special editions and collectors.

The only time I read any comics after elementary school was when I heard Superman died. I picked up a graphic novel collection of the follow-up storyline of Superman’s return, struggling to decipher its maze of alternate Supermen and the like. It really didn’t seem worth the effort in the end; the artwork was impressive, but the convoluted tales certainly weren’t nostalgic for me, being far removed from what I’d read as a kid.

Some years later I was convinced by a highly positive mention in Time to read the Watchmen graphic novel, which was extremely dark but also a great story. I also read the first Sandman books, but although Gaiman is a great author they got a bit too ethereal for me.

Then DC announced a few months ago that it was completely rebooting its entire line, discarding all of the old continuity and starting fresh. They’d also be offering their new line in iPad-friendly versions with the same kind of auto-panning and zooming that Marvel had in its digital line.

That sounded intriguing since I could just download a few books on my iPad and not have to worry about the overload of ponderous continuity from decades of stories. Two of my favorite television franchises, Dr. Who and Star Trek, suffered from such problems of backstory overload, although I was an avid enough watcher of every Trek series to keep up with the dizzying complexities.

The New 52 at DC has a rather digital look. And Wonder Woman is like money: always inflating.

So I’ve bought and read the first three of the new Action Comics with Superman. He’s weaker than before and in this storyline hasn’t really figured out how to be a superhero yet and is leaping about in jeans, not flying around in full spandex. It’s actually been fun and I’ll keep reading it for awhile until I tire of it.

The New Action Comics

There is a separate Superman comic book line where it appears he’s older and more polished with more stuff about Krypton, but that doesn’t interest me. And I’ve sampled and rejected The Savage Hawkman and some Marvel comics. I’m just not the target audience for most of this stuff. The fact that I complain more than praise throughout this article is a giveaway that comics really aren’t my thing, although I like bits and pieces.

I’ll wrap up with something interactive you can try if you like. I found a silly online quiz that supposedly identifies which superhero you most resemble in terms of your personality. Here’s what I got:

You are Green Lantern

Green Lantern 65% Superman 55% Spider-Man 55% Hulk 50% Robin 50% Iron Man 40% The Flash 30% Supergirl 25% Batman 25% Wonder Woman 15% Catwoman 10%

Hot-headed. You have strong will power and a good imagination.

Click here to take the Superhero Personality Quiz

Well, I never really cared much for Green Lantern (let alone this summer’s movie version which I wasted money on), but I have to admit that while I don’t want to read about it, if I had to live it I’d prefer a magic ring to bare knuckled fisticuffs. And having to keep that darn ring charged up isn’t all that different from keeping the iPhone and iPad ready to go, is it?

At Lake of the Ozarks (click image for slideshow)

I’ll wrap up 2011 with a lengthy post about four trails I hiked at Lake of the Ozarks on the last day of the year.

Coping with Hotel Living

Earplugs are my strategy for some hotels. The new one I stayed at in Osage Beach was, as reported in online reviews, run by a friendly couple but suffered from poor architecture. It had a large central corridor which functioned as a resonance box for the indoor pool at one end and all of the inevitable slamming doors from typical thoughtless guests. But my earplugs kept me undisturbed, the bed was comfortable, and the continental breakfast was varied and fresh. It’s a shame earplugs can’t compensate for a cramped bathroom, but it was a budget hotel after all.

Lake of the Ozarks Area

On the last day of 2011 I’d hike on four different trails in the Lake of the Ozarks State Park, straddling it with hikes at the west and east end. These added to the previous day’s hike there and a hike in September 2010 at nearby Ha Ha Tonka. I haven’t exhausted the trails in this area, so I’ll be back in 2012. The long drive from Bartlesville means I will need to stay at an area hotel, so I might try returning here over Spring Break. I wouldn’t like the big summer crowds.

Grand Glaize Trails

By 8:45 a.m. I was on the first trail, which was only a few miles away in the Grand Glaize area on the west edge of the state park. The area name refers to a flooded creek but the origin of the name is uncertain. It lies only a few blocks east of the south part of Osage Beach (aka Laguna Beach), and the area is known for its summer partiers. The state has redesigned the park entry road, which fooled Trixie the GPS, but I had little trouble finding the trailhead for the Rocky Top Trail, a 2.5 mile double-loop.

This wasn’t Tennessee, but I’ll confess I did have the old bluegrass song in mind as I began my hike. Oh my, but I still love it when Buck Owens kicks it into gear. Hee Haw rubbed off on me a bit, I guess. Gloom, despair, and agony on me.

And since it was New Year’s Eve, I could ask, “Where, oh where, are you tonight?” Yes, they did it on Porter Wagoner too.

Okay, I apologize for that. Let’s get back to the trail…

It was still in the 40s so I opted to walk the trail so that I’d be in the sunlight along the lake shore for the start of my hike. I walked past a shelter and down to the shore, where a bright sun was climbing the sky. A fisherman was standing in his boat close to shore and we waved as the trail hugged the shoreline. I reached the waterway which separates the two trail loops and crossed it so I could ascend the adjacent hill to an overlook. The trail, like both of yesterday’s, followed a ridgeline to a point. But this time it was a broad high cliff providing a sweeping eastward view of this arm of the lake.

I spotted a fisherman below the bluff and zoomed in for a look, deciding it might just be a fisherwoman…hard to tell. Across the way were various condos, and boats and birds passed by the point. I could see that I was standing on an overhang of a high eroded bluff and managed to bushwhack down the edge of the bluff and made my way over along its lower and colorful face to stand beneath the overlook. Some large pieces of rocks had broken away, and a bit of greenery was bursting from the bluff. I was very glad I’d made this bushwhack and climbed back past the eroded rock face to the trail, where the Ozark savanna led down into the lake.

I found more tree fungi of various sorts. I returned to the first loop and followed it up to reach a profusion of pockmarked rocks as I exited the forest into a large sloping glade which justified the trail’s name. This truly was a rocky top, with many eroded stones protruding from the grass. I shot a panorama and then exited the glade, which was close to the trailhead. Altogether a most satisfying start to my day.

I knew the nearby Shade Ridge Trail would be less interesting, as it simply hugs the lake shore connecting the marina to the Pa He Tsi area. But it was so close I couldn’t pass it up, so I drove over to the trailhead, discarded my heavier jacket and ear pops since the temperature had climbed into the 60s, and crossed a short bridge onto the trail. It hugged the lake shore part of the way, providing ready access to the water where I could see a fishing boat silhouetted by the glare of the morning sun. Along the trail there were pleasant views of the lake developments. I peered down into a fallen log’s maw, but thankfully nothing came popping out at me.

Squirrels scampered about, as they had on parts of the earlier trail, but they were skittish and would not pose for the camera. I forded a small steady stream and arrived at the closed entrance to the Pa He Tsi area. The name refers to the Big Osage tribe or “campers on the mountain” in contrast to the Little Osage or U-ʇseɥ-ta or ‘”campers in the lowlands”.

I retraced my steps, passing a dead tree which poked at the clear blue sky. The low sun was lengthening my short legs enormously as I walked over to the stream, where some tree roots formed a miniature waterfall. A plane flew overhead toward the nearby landing strip. A couple of fishermen were plying the edges of a cove as I returned to my car. It was time for lunch.

The Lake of the Ozarks and Bagnell Dam

I was craving pizza and Yelp said there was truly excellent pizza to be found at the Alley Cats bar to the north in Lake Ozark. I don’t care for smoky bars, but the lure of crispy tasty pizza was irresistible. So I made my way over, finding I had to cross Bagnell Dam. The half-mile long dam was constructed by Union Electric of St. Louis from 1929-1931 and rises 148 feet from bedrock (so it’s about twelve stories high and seven blocks long). It was named for the town site where it was built, which of course is gone today. At full capacity 30,000 gallons of water can flow each minute through each of the dam’s eight turbine generators, producing 215 megawatts of electrical power.

The dam impounds 600 billion gallons of water and forms over 1,150 miles of shoreline along what the company called the Osage Reservoir, the Missouri legislature named Lake Benton, and everyone still insisted on calling Lake of the Ozarks: the largest man-made non-flood control lake in the country. Since the lake level is very steady, unlike many flood control lakes built by the Army Corps of Engineers, the shorelines have been intensively developed by private interests. Recently the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission ruled that many structures are actually on utility-owned land and ordered thousands of home and businesses to be moved, causing widespread concern and consequent clarifications.

The main road into Lake Ozark, a tourist strip replete with restaurants, bars, and shops, runs over the narrow top of the dam which clearly was meant for smaller cars. You are supposed to creep along at 25 miles per hour, which I dutifully did to the dismay of several young fools behind me, who recklessly zipped around my car both before and after we crossed the dam. I certainly wouldn’t want to be around here in the summer swarm. I’ll take a lonely forest or mountain trail over swarming crowds of tourists any day.

The bar was small and a bit smoky, but the pizza was superb. The bartender proudly pointed out the huge trophy they had won in a pizza cook-off and I had to agree that it was some of the best pizza I’d ever had. Bikers pulled in and drank as I happily consumed my hot, thin, and crispy mushroom confection.

I recrossed the narrow dam and drove up to an overlook. The electric utility had put up a nice set of displays and a viewing platform, along with one of the massive old turbines. The 1931 turbine is cast steel, weighs 50 tons, and rated to produce 33,500 horsepower at 90 feet of water pressure at 112.5 rev/min. I know, only a physics teacher could love such statistics!

The overlook provided a nice line of sight along the dam and one could see the extensive shoreline development. The drive down the other side of the overlook provided a nice view of the dam.

Horse Trails

It was time for the afternoon hike, which I planned for some hiker/equestrian trails at the stables on the east side of the huge state park. I reached the empty Hidden Springs Trailhead at 1 p.m. and set off down the wide trail. Thankfully there was little prominent manure and I enjoyed the wriggling descent down toward the lake. Now it was the afternoon sun forming my silhouette as I strode through tall trees past an almost illegible sign which read “Half Way There”.

Finally the lake appeared and the trail ran northeast parallel to it. It rose to an overlook, but the view was obscured by trees and I bushwhacked downslope for a splendid view.

In front of some low islands a number of birds were lined up along a floating log in the lake. The wind was whipping and I hung onto an odd tree arch on the promontory before climbing back up to the zigzagging trail. I reached an intersection with the south loop of the immense Trail of the Four Winds. The south loop is 9.25 miles long while the north one is 4.25 miles and the 13.5 mile trail is clearly popular with equestrians since there had been a number of horse trailers at its trailhead.

This part of the long trail led down toward the water. Eager to get a better look at the birds, I followed it down. Ferns were growing alongside the trail and I reached the shore where I could see birds fishing in the water, riding the stiff wind and diving to the water after prey.

I followed the Trail of the Four Winds for a couple of miles, passing high bluffs and then making a winding ascent between waterways, but the views were limited and I finally decided to turn back. Rather than wind my way back around the waterway I bushwhacked down it and across, finding more tree fungi in the form of wide white fans. An opossum beside the trail eyed me warily as I passed, but wasn’t scared enough to play possum. I trudged back up onto the Hidden Springs Trail and eventually the Trail of the Four Winds split off and I returned to my car for the long drive home.

Day Hike Statistics

It had been a satisfying end to 2011, with me tacking another 9.5 miles onto my day hike total, bringing it up to 326.3 miles for the year. Since I hiked 50 days in 2011 that averages to 6.5 miles per day. I continue to rack up many auto miles finding new trails, having exhausted so many trails since July 2009. Since then I have hiked 56 days in Oklahoma, 23 in Arkansas, 11 each in Kansas and Missouri, 9 in Oregon, 8 in Colorado and 3 in New Mexico. But there are still some unexplored trails in Oklahoma and many more in Missouri and Arkansas beckoning my boots. Summer vacation continues to be a great time to pick up more trails in Colorado or the Pacific Northwest and escape July in Joklahoma.

I’m still eager to get out and walk about, shooting pics and listening to audiobooks. I agree with Nate Desmond of Practical Manliness about the benefits of day hiking, but for me #5. Relieve Stress ranks above #3. Foster Relationships since I use solo day hikes as a chance to escape from people and work, indulging in my own favorite pastime. But I’m not a complete loner: I do share my photos and write extensively about each trek.  I know some folks who just look at the photos, some who read every detail, and several of my friends never look at my posts, period. And that’s just the way it should be. As Cicero wrote, “Suum cuique pulchrum est.” To each his own is beautiful.

Click here for a slideshow from this day hike

Indian Point (click image for slideshow)

The forecast called for unseasonably mild weather for the final two days of 2011, so I decided to try again for day hikes at Lake of the Ozarks. I tried to do so last May but rain changed my plans. The sprawling lake is over 4.5 hours from my home, so I needed to stay in a local hotel overnight. This time I opted to first try for some trails at Pomme de Terre Lake about 45 miles southwest of the larger lake and stay overnight at Osage Beach, hiking at the Lake of the Ozarks the following day.

The sun ascended as I drove along narrow old US 60 to Nowata. Road work forced me on a long detour south to Chelsea, where I had to wait on a long freight train. Chelsea is where Oklahoma’s first oil well was drilled, although the first commercial oil well was drilled in Bartlesville. I finally reached Vinita and I-44, which took me up to Springfield where I bought gas and a Lunchable and headed north to Pomme de Terre.

The fancy French name translates to “apple of the earth” and refers to potatoes, although the French trappers who named the river the lake is formed from probably were referring to the potato bean, which the Osage Indians in the area ate. I drove through Bolivar, seat of Polk County, Missouri as shown by its old-fashioned courthouse.

I parked at the Indian Point trailhead on the lake, which promised to head out to a point on the lake with multiple Indian burial mounds and cairns from the Mississippian culture. The trail led through what is called an Ozark savanna, with scattered oak trees growing on very thin soils. The wind was really whipping, forcing me to don my Ear Pops and use the strap on my hat.

I passed the first burial mound as the trail headed down the ridge toward Indian Point. Before the lake was built this ridge lofted above Pomme de Terre River and Lindley Creek. The trail led straight down to the point and the wind only increased as I walked. The water was very choppy but that didn’t stop one boat from churning and bouncing through it.

The point was a highly eroded low rock promontory. The wind was unbearable up top, but there was a side channel allowing me to duck behind the rock for a warm and sunny shelter out of the wind. The rock sloped off into the water, making me feel like a flood survivor grateful for a scrap of high ground. A speedboat zoomed by as I broke open my Lunchable and enjoyed a snack.

The rock around me was so eroded it was almost frightening. I peered around the rocky bluff and spotted two fishermen standing out in their boat down the shore, also enjoying the shelter of the point. I’d make a comment about the craziness of fishing on a windy day like this, but I was out hiking, so I’ll stay mum.

I then ascended the trail and followed it through another savanna over to a cove where I could get a better view of the fishermen and their boat. Looping back to my car, I passed more cairns, all heavily disturbed by both looters and archaeologists.

I then drove over to the Hermitage area on the north shore of the lake, but it was closed from December through February and thus my second planned hike was nixed. I set course for the Lake of the Ozarks, hoping to hike at Coakley Hollow as Plan B. But that entire area of the park was gated off with a sign that it was closed due to flooding. Okay, Plan C. I do wish these state parks would post trail closings on their websites!

Just down the road was the trailhead for the Honey Run trail, which my Hiking Missouri book described as a 2.5 mile loop. But the trail has been reconfigured into a 12.75 mile long trail with an initial 3.1 mile linear segment leading to north and south loops of 4.4 and 2.6 miles respectively. That’s great, but I only had two hours to hike so I couldn’t even make it to the first loop. It was too far to drive around to yet another trailhead, so I set out to do what I could.

The trail led off through another Ozark savanna on a ridge above Honey Run, which would never come into sight on this short hike. The trail turned to follow a downward ridge. I could easily imagine I was back at Indian Point, but before they built the dam and flooded the valleys to either side.

Eventually I wound around to a waterway and either needed to reverse and trace back my course or bushwhack. I opted to bushwhack up the watercourse to intercept the trail higher up and cut off a long loop. I rested on large felled tree, then posed with the setting sun behind me before shooting close-ups of the fungi growing on the trunk.

I crossed more fallen trees, recalling I’d seen a lot of wind damage at Pomme de Terre, which had wiped out some of the twisted oaks mentioned in my hiking book. The thin soils here provide little grip for the roots.

I passed long low mounds of rock which clearly were not burial mounds but instead had once formed the trailbed with a thin line of rocks marking its other edge. But the reconfigured trail passed higher along the slope, occasionally using the old rock lines but then deviating. Frequent tree blazes, yellow here while those at Pomme de Terre were blue, made the revamped trail easy to follow. Much better than the mostly unmarked trails in the Wichitas, although there were quite a few rock blazes in the Granite Hills.

I wrapped up the hike, adding 2.25 miles to the 3.25 miles I’d hiked earlier. It was time for an early supper, which I found at a Mexican restaurant in Osage Beach. I was diverted along a brand new bypass around the strip tourist town and it was strange to exit onto a broad wide highway lined with businesses but almost devoid of cars. Being here out of season with big empty stores, condos, and hotels and with the new bypass redirecting most traffic, the town felt very odd.

Trixie the GPS didn’t know about parts of the bypass and complained bitterly. The rapid development here explains why Google Maps was also very confused about the location of my new hotel. I finally located it miles from where Google said it would be and turned in early, ready to hike some nearby trails tomorrow and then head back home before New Years Eve.

Click here for a slideshow from these day hikes

I’m surprised that I acquired that many new songs since my heyday of music appreciation was in my late teenage years. I figure most folks are that way. But at 45 I’m still on the prowl for songs, especially since the ready access I’ve had since 2004 to digital tunes via iPods, iPhones, and my Apple TV means that old favorites get worn out and I want fresher material. I don’t hear a great deal of new music since I rarely use services like Pandora, Spotify, etc. But I do get alerted to some new-to-me tunes through NPR and various blogs.

No one wants to peruse someone else’s list of 500 songs, so I’ll boil this down to one favorite track I’ve selected from my acquisitions from each month of the past year. They’re fairly eclectic and many were released in previous years but were new to me.

January

Lying Peacefully from Beatitude by Pepe Deluxé

iTunes Link

This is a Finnish electronic music band. The Beatitude album dates back to 2003 in which they tried a number of styles, collaborating with about 40 other musicians. The Lying Peacefully track vocal is by Mika Sellens.

February

Cool Summer from Kitchen Clean by Can’t Stop Won’t Stop

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

February is a good month to be thinking about summer and I found this song through an awesome video. This is an unsigned hip hop group out of Provo, Utah.

March

Delilah from The Ramsey Lewis Trio In Person by The Ramsey Lewis Trio

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

I first heard this in the longer version from the Ramsey Lewis’s Finest Hour album where the beginning is a somber piano piece reminding me of how Ferrante & Teicher made a living out of “pianizing” movie themes. But that is the white bread for the sandwich Ramsey is making: the meat is syncopated jazz. It is a weird combination that I like to play loudly when driving on a lonesome highway late at night. But the live version I’ve linked to here is a far more exciting recording, even if it lacks the weird intro and outro.

April

Take Me Back Again from Bella by Teddy Thompson

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

I’m terribly fond of Teddy’s music and I love the rich orchestration accompanying this guitar-heavy track. I couldn’t find a good video link, but you can sample the track on his website: hit the fast forward button above the lyrics until this track is selected. Turn it up and surf the sound.

May

Ida Red from Continental Stomp by Hot Club Of Cowtown

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

I was fortunate to hear this trio live in Bartlesville at OK Mozart.They’re keeping fast country swing alive and kicking.

June

Creep from The Sing-Off by Street Corner Symphony

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

This is an acappella take on Radiohead’s hit from 1992…there aren’t any instruments in this track, just manipulated sounds produced by the men in this group.

July

Save the Last Dance for Me from It’s Time by Michael Bublé

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

I raved about this already on the blog. And I still never tire of this Canadian’s Latinized version of the classic song.

August

Stop, Look, and Listen from Josie & The Pussycats

This obvious imitation of The Jackson 5′s ABC is nostalgic for me since I loved it back in 1970 when I watched the silly Josie & The Pussycats television cartoon as a child. Unfortunately you can only find this song via the YouTube video (37 seconds into the clip) or through a non-commercial bit torrent server. It’s Patrice Holloway’s version, superior to the sped-up version Cheryl Ladd sang in the actual television episode.

September

Du soleil plein les yeux (Eyes Full of Sun) from 1969 by Pink Martini with Saori Yuki

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

I’ve driven to Fort Worth on more than one occasion to catch a live show by Pink Martini. Lead singer China Forbes is sidelined for now, recovering from throat surgery, so their new album featured Japanese singer Saori Yuki. In keeping with their worldliness, she is singing a French track. I don’t really care what she is singing about as they play, I just want to tune out the world and listen.

October

Under a Cloud from Sweetheart of the Sun by The Bangles

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

Three of the four members of one of my favorite groups from the 1980s (did you comprehend all of those numbers?) return with a fine new album. I like the strings dropped in here and there.

November

Moment of Surrender from No Line on the Horizon by U2

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

I loved U2′s sequential albums The Joshua Tree, Achtung Baby, and Zooropa but was disappointed by their later efforts. So it took me a couple of years to get around to listening to their latest. This song has that weary poignancy they carry off so well when they care to, reminding me of some of their work under the guise of Passengers with songs like Your Blue Room.

December

Pot Belly from Ma’ Cheri by Freshlyground

Amazon Link | iTunes Link

I discovered this one through Wendy’s Alternative World Spin. The group is from South Africa and the video is precious, reminding me of when I bought songs because their videos were irresistible.

And now I’m looking forward to a new year with more new music. New to me, at least!

Above Quanah Parker Lake (click image for slideshow)

I paid the price for too many colas at yesterday’s supper: a sleepless night in my room at Quartz Mountain. I finally drifted off and did not get up until 8:15 a.m. A cold shower woke me up, but not by choice. The hot water was malfunctioning and while the water wasn’t frigid, it was uncomfortably chilly. I had a hot breakfast in the Sundance Cafe and overheard other diners mentioning the chilly start to their day, so I wasn’t the only one who had suffered.

I packed out and headed to Granite at the opposite end of Lake Altus. Granite is known for two things: granite markers and a state reformatory. Which to visit? Let’s see…

I found Willis Granite Products fittingly located at the intersection of Mountain Avenue and Quarry Drive. They extract from Headquarters Mountain and beside the entrance they’ve erected a likeness of Will Rogers comprised of 195 granite panels. Entitled “Giants of the Plains”, it points to missing likenesses of Sequoyah and Jim Thorpe, which were mentioned in a 1980 edition of Oklahoma Today but never constructed.

There is also a fake cemetery, or “cemetary” as shown on its sign, created from tombstones created by the Willis firm for a Texas veterinarian and his wife. After retirement they eventually opted to have the stones returned to the quarry from which they came. I liked Penelope Prichard’s epitaph: Life is like a piano. What you get out of it depends on how you play it. There were stones for the satisfied woman, several with sayings of Will Rogers, a plea from a widow woman yearning for comfort, among many others.

As I left town I passed the reformatory, but didn’t know of anyone there hoping for a visit from me. So I rolled on through Lone Wolf, Hobart, Roosevelt, and Snyder, making for the southwest corner of the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge. Somewhere west of the Treasure Lake Job Corps Center are the remains of Ison’s Folly.

George Ison staked an 80 acre claim there in 1866 and he and his son Silas moved in permanently in 1901 as the Wichita Mountains Forest Reserve was being established. Silas had married Dove Murray, sister of the Oklahoma Governor “Alfalfa” Bill Murray. The Isons fought the U.S. government to remain on the 80 acre plot and George died in the 1930s. Silas continued to work the area and in the 1940s was finally awarded “squatter’s rights” for the remainder of his life, which worked out to about 30 years since he died in 1972. He and his father established four mines: the Atlas, Old Maid, Mennonite, and Half Moon. They sunk 13 shafts on their property and built a stone walkway up a stream from a stone cabin to a hand-built rock dam. My goal was to locate the remains.

Edward Charles Ellenbrook’s book mentioned a faint trail off the Indiahoma Road near the southwest edge of the refuge. I first tried bushwhacking close to the boundary, but in traipsing about for almost 1.5 miles all I found were buffalo and erosion. Figuring I’d missed the spot, I drove on eastward and parked, backtracking and pacing off the distance from the Job Corps center. There were many animal trails, so I just followed one and rambled all over the wooded area streams searching for any signs of the Isons.

Just when I was about to give up, I stumbled across a section of pipe and a drain trap. Perhaps this was from the stone cabin? I headed northwest up a stream and finally came across the granite terraced walkway. It was quite overgrown in spots with multiple treefalls. I struggled upstream and finally saw the rock dam and tiny adjacent zircon mine. What Ellenbrook’s book said was a 20 minute walk had turned into a multi-hour search.

I clambered up for a better view of the dam and behind it found no water, as the stream flowed under the silt and out from its base. Climbing higher up the defile I located one obvious large shaft with a tree growing out of it and farther upstream found another cutout. I climbed up its tailings pile for a closer look.

I finally stopped climbing upstream when cedar overgrowth grew too thick and backtracked to the dam. The water trickling into the pool below reminded me of a huge ripple tank. Perhaps I should haul my physics students out here to see some diffraction action.

I sat down for a snack while I enjoyed the view and shot a video:

Then I bushwhacked over to the zircon mine, the front of which is now a brick wall. There was only a tiny pool behind it. I returned along the tree-strewn terrace, grateful for the clearer patches. I searched about for a large tree since Ellenbrook said the cabin remains were nearby. I found a large tree but no remains thereabouts. Scouring the area I finally found a stone where someone had collected a number of bricks stamped St. Louis. This was as much Ison debris as I would find – I hadn’t waymarked the pipe and drain trap I’d seen earlier and never did relocate them. Around here a big elk zipped by along the edge of the woodland – I only saw his rump so it is just as well the camera wasn’t ready.

I was weary of bushwhacking for hours on end and made my way to the road, happily leaving the wooded area to follow animal trails in the grassland. Longhorns eyed me warily as I traipsed back to my car. The calves tried to emulate the adults, but their attention spans were noticeably shorter. One cow eyed me from a downed fence. I don’t think it mowed down that fence, but I wouldn’t argue with it anyway.

I then drove north and east, where buffalo were entertaining drivers. I was heading for a real trail this time: the one leading up Little Baldy Mountain and over to the dam at Quanah Parker Lake.

I parked in the visitors area at Camp Doris. Buffalo blurred by across the road as I made my way to the unmarked trailhead. There is a true paucity of signs on these trails. The only sign I did find was almost illegible, but I could make out Stairway to the Sky, which sounded most appealing.

I’d already crossed a bridge over a dry creek leading into Quanah Parker Lake and climbed one flight of steps earlier along the trail. I lost the trail to the sky stairway, so I circumnavigated Little Baldy until I spotted them. I climbed to the summit, where I found a couple of metal stakes pounded into the granite.

I shot a 360 degree panorama and then shot a self portrait I entitled A Little Baldy Atop Little Baldy Mountain. I also got a closer shot with Quanah Parker Lake in the background. In the distance I could see the chasm carved by Quanah Creek.

I then descended the Stairway to the Sky and made my way over to the dam. I was pleased to find it was designed with stairs and a walkway across the top. I crossed and looked back to admire how the dam was joined to the rock. I was surprised to find a small lower pool below the main dam, formed by a small downstream dam. This demanded investigation!

I clambered downslope and used animal trails to reach the lower dam. I made my way out onto a bar to get a shot of both dams along Quanah Creek and then made my way upstream to admire the reflections in the lower pool. I then recrossed the dam, following a trail over to the lake shore and used it for an alternate route back to my car, crossing a different footbridge than before.

I drove out of the refuge, stopping at the east entrance to walk uphill to the old road and the 38 foot long archway of native stone that once marked the park entrance. The west side glowed in the setting sun as I left the refuge, eager to return sometime in 2012 to explore a few more sights mentioned in Ellenbrook’s guidebook.

I hiked 8.2 miles today, bringing my day hike total for 2011 to 311 miles. I might just add some more to that tomorrow as I journey back home.

Click here for a slideshow from this day hike

The Bewitching Wichitas (click image for slideshow)

Over Thanksgiving I’d hoped to hike the Granite Hills trails at Great Plains State Park in the Wichita Mountains of southwest Oklahoma, but was stymied by weather. The beautiful Wichitas are too far a drive for a day hike out of Bartlesville, but Winter Break offered another opportunity.

So the day after Christmas, which I’d spent as usual with my folks in Oklahoma City, I ignored the gray overcast skies and drizzle which extended from the city down the H.E. Bailey turnpike to Lawton and points west. The forecast said the clouds would part a bit in the afternoon with highs in the 40s and that was good enough for me.

As I pulled into Lawton around 11 a.m. I was wondering if I’d get to hike at all, since a steady drizzle continued unabated. I took shelter at Central Mall and grabbed lunch, then headed west past the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge, where I’d be hiking and exploring the following day, toward Tom Steed Reservoir near Snyder.

As I passed the Quanah Parker monument on the Cache highway, I was thrilled to see the clouds part on cue and the sun break through for a bit, although it was mostly shielded as I drove into the state park toward the granite hills. At the Granite Hills trailhead several vees of birds passed overhead. The trailhead sign had a better trail map than the one they’ve posted online. Why these things happen remains a mystery.

The namesake mounds of granite were heaped ahead of me and I tried to follow the yellow trail but got confused by some junctions and wound up looping back on myself. When I tried to backtrack and correct it, I was stymied so I just bushwhacked my way along a watercourse until I caught a glimpse of the reservoir and could shoot a panorama.

I eventually found the white trail and followed it down to the lakeside camping areas. The white trail led back uphill to cedars which celebrated Christmas in reddish orange and green. I reached a tiny grove of saplings, unusual in this setting, and then shot a white bouquet of dead flowers amidst the ubiquitous prickly pear cacti.

I finally reached the far trailhead at the old low Lake Snyder dam, directly south of the big Tom Steed Reservoir Dam upstream on Glen Creek. The rock walls of the Lake Snyder spillway contrasted to the big concrete arch of the bigger dam. While atop the bluff above Lake Snyder, I startled a big heron, only capturing a blurry image of it winging past below me.

Moving north up the road past the big dam, I could see up the narrow creek channel leading out into the larger body of the lake. I rejoined the trail system, always taking the right fork so I could take the higher yellow trail for the return. The boulder strewn trail led up to an overlook and the clouds obligingly parted for a sunny shot. I turned around to shoot a panorama of the granite hills.

I climbed to the summit, where a tree growing in a crack looked like it was splitting a huge boulder. I then shot a very long panorama linking the views. As the sun lit up the distant hills I descended to shoot one last granite mound and then followed the yellow trail until I reached the point I’d been at hours earlier. Here I turned off trail, bushwhacking over to a pond shown on my map.

The drought had drained it and as I negotiated the muddy shore I slid down, smearing mud across my hindquarters. Oh dear! I don’t mind scratches and cuts but I do detest muddy clothes. Chagrined, I used bottled water to wash my hands and cautiously made my way over to the park road and followed it to another small pond, where I bushwhacked across dry mudless granite until I stumbled across the yellow trail again.

I followed it through a grove of trees back to the trailhead. Laying a blanket across the car seat, I drove over to a park restroom where I changed my pants and rid myself of the muddy reminder of that pitiful pond. Then I headed back onto the highway as it wound north and west around the reservoir.

Fittingly the golden hour of sunset arrived as I reached the hill adorned with the distinctive remains of the Gold Bells Mine and Mill. The round cooling tower atop the hill resembled a giant kiva in the warm sunlight. The mine never managed to produce gold, so the owners resorted to blasting gold dust into the mine walls to salt it and cheat new investors to recoup their investment, including $17,000 invested in the big useless mill.

The lake glimmered below the dusky sunset sky and then the blue briefly returned above the old cyanide mill. I drove on into Roosevelt, where I was startled by a disturbing tire man who was dancing beside the abandoned high school. West of town a low cloud pressed down over the flat fields and the colors deepened. Granite hills transformed into purple mountains beneath the moon as Trixie the GPS directed me along a shortcut of lonely flat roads towards Quartz Mountain.

I had fond memories of my stay a year before at the best state-owned lodge and had made the wise decision to forgo a hotel room in Lawton for the comforts of the lodge. The low off-season room rate readily compensated for the 35 mile drive over to the park and I knew a fine meal and pleasing accommodations awaited me.

A star illumined the small carnival outside the park as I wound my way over to the resort. Their online booking system had not registered my reservation, but that was hardly a problem in the off-season. I crossed the moonlit courtyard to my room and then walked beneath the lunar sliver to the Sundance Cafe. The old Indian greeted me at the entrance and I was led to the same fireside spot where I dined a year ago.

Candles gleamed as I feasted on hot rolls, a salad, and seared salmon with citrus sauce and grilled vegetables. This is the life! After dinner I strolled through the corridors where other guests were also walking about, admiring black and white photographs from the summer arts institute. I preferred the sculpture Another Dream by Fritz Scholder, which portrayed a woman emerging from the rock for a kiss.

In the lobby was As Long As The Waters Flow by Allan Houser. The fan the woman was holding looked like a paddle to me – she was prompting me to get to my room and start blogging. I learned last year there is no WiFi in the rooms, so this time I came armed with an ethernet adapter for my Macbook Air. So I’m thankfully composing this post from the comfort of my room, and my photos uploaded in record time via the high speed wired connection.

Tomorrow I head back east to the Wichita Mountains Wildlife Refuge to hike a few short trails and see other sights mentioned in Edward Ellenbrook’s guide book which I’ve not encountered on my previous visits. More granite grandeur to come…

Click here for a slideshow from this day hike

Clayton Lake Falls (click image for slideshow)

The first day of winter 2011-2012 was also the first day of my school’s winter break. I celebrated by heading south to Oklahoma’s Kiamichi Country. That’s tourism talk; we Okies really call it Little Dixie because of the strong southern accents there. Many southerners moved into the area after the Civil War, seeking cheap land.

I wanted to day hike in the Kiamichi and San Bois Mountains, both of which are subsets of the Ouachita Range, which I’ve explored on several day hikes. There are still bridle trails I can explore at Robbers Cave, but I wanted something fresh and the state parks website showed a Clayton Lake State Park about an hour south of there. I recognized Sardis Lake to the north, but had never heard of Clayton and Wikipedia reported there was a surviving fire tower nearby on Flagpole Mountain. That clinched it.

I arrived in Clayton a bit after 10 a.m. and found it to be economically depressed, which was no great surprise for Kiamichi Country. 39% of its inhabitants are below the poverty line, compared to 13% of the folks in oil-rich Bartlesville and our little city’s per capita income of $35,800 dwarfs Clayton’s $13,500. But while we have only the foothills of the Osage, Clayton is nestled between mountains which jut up 1,000 feet above the town. I was headed for Flagpole Road, which promised to wrap around Flagpole Mountain’s northeastern rim south of Sardis Lake and west of Clayton.

The road was dirt and water had rutted it badly in places. Slabs of sandstone often protruded from the road surface as I cautiously bounced my way upward, glad I’d put new struts on Princess (my 2001 Camry) a few weeks ago. Finally I could see my target, along with some other towers, on a nearby ridge.

I’d wondered why this Pushmataha County tower had survived, unlike its brethren. That mystery was solved when I found it festooned with antennas pointing this way and that. It was the typical Aermotor design, with a 7 foot square cab up top accessed by a trapdoor. The Forest Service put up about 250 of these towers across the nation between 1933 and 1942, and I’ve climbed ones at Sugar Camp, Hercules Glades, Piney Creek, and Flat Rock in Missouri. Sugar Camp is the one I know from childhood and its lower steps have been stripped away as the cab windows are all gone and the floor is decrepit and unsafe. I figured this tower was in better shape.

Sure enough, all of the steps were intact and I climbed for a nice view of my car far below and Sardis Lake in the background. Thankfully the trap door was unlocked and not only were the windows intact but even sported an I Smokey sticker. Even the table for the Osborne Fire Finder was still in place, painted forest green. The panoramas of the north and west were quite nice, and Flagpole Road led on south along the mountain ridge.

I opened the trapdoor and descended both the tower and the mountain, pausing along the empty road for a shot of the dam at Sardis Lake. The state defaulted on payments for this water reservoir, prompting a court case it lost. Then Oklahoma City purchased the rights and the Choctaw and Chickasaw Nations recently filed suit to block the water being piped 130 miles to the metropolis. Water fights will become more common as our lakes silt up even as demand increases.

My next stop was tiny Clayton Lake State Park. There was mention of a hiking trail, but the sketchy reports led me to speculate it would be very short or abandoned, and the maps showed a park boundary hugging the lake shore. I would indeed find only remnants of a trail, but that was compensated by some beautiful waterfalls at the spillway.

Pine trees surrounded the tiny lake as I explored, stymied in my rare decision to ask at the park office about a trail by a sign in the window saying the ranger was out in the park somewhere. I walked north toward the dam and spotted an eagle zipping past the trees along the western shore, but my photos of its flight were blurry and useless. The broad spillway was eroded and water was cascading into Peal Creek. Clambering all over this area snapping photos and videos of the falls was the highlight of my day.

I grabbed shots of the spillway edge and farther below, getting right up against the cascade. I would later struggle completely across the waterway, winding my way on jutting rocks and debris to make it to the far side of the spillway to shoot one of the waterfalls nestled among the rocks. Quite a treat!

I then returned to my car to grab my lunch pack and walked over to the park’s south end, where I found some reflections and a berm leading out into the water. I found the feeder stream and a big tilted ledge there made a nice lunch spot with a good view both upstream and downstream.

After my repast I clambered upstream, looking back at the lake now and again, until my trip was arrested by the property line, with a large private cabin butting up against the boundary. I had no choice but to shift uphill, discovering abandoned mossy picnic tables here and there. Here on a dirt road I was surprised to find blue tree blazes. The trail! But it led straight down a road blocked by barbed wire and private property notices. Something went wrong for this trail after it was built and blazed. How sad, both for it and for me.

So I wandered up another feeder stream, undoubtedly wandering a bit past an unmarked boundary this time. But then the trail I was following turned to ford the wide stream and clearly entered private land. Stymied again, I backtracked, having exhausted the park’s clearly accessible regions. But the afternoon sun was out and I decided to return to the spillway for some hopefully improved photos.

There I found an Asplundh truck with a fellow clearing logs from upper edge of the spillway. He was working alone but I then spotted three more Asplundh workers, bedecked in hunter orange tuques, who were exploring the other side of the spillway. They’d found a way across, so why not me?

That is when I struggled all of the way over, finding carved channels in the tilted bedding planes of the rocks and getting very close to the falls. I climbed up the dam and walked to the far shore, where I unexpectedly found another blue trail blaze. I hadn’t brought my iPhone or pack with me for this return to the spillway area, so I opted not to bushwhack the abandoned trail and instead reversed course. On my way down the dam by an alternate route I scrambled to a halt, gasping in surprise at a large snake sunning itself on a rock below me. Neither of us was pleased at the encounter and I returned to my car by a different route. I’d only hiked four miles and there were a few hours of light left, so my next stop would be Robbers Cave.

Since September 2009 I’d hiked several times at Robbers Cave and exhausted almost all of the pedestrian trails. While I want to explore part of the multi-use trail and bridle trails east of the highway, I’d need a full day outside of hunting season for that. So I opted to circumnavigate Lake Wayne Wallace using a bridle trail I’d only partially walked previously, rather than using the Mountain Trail shown on the park map.

I parked at Frank Glenn Bridge on Ash Creek Road and first walked northeast up Fourche Maline Creek to snap some distant small falls. Then I walked over to and across the long earthen dam, looking at empty tent camping sites along the eastern shore. I was following the yellow bridle trail as it wrapped up and around the high bluffs, emerging out on top for a sweeping view of the dam and the Frank Glenn Bridge below.

Checking the time I decided I could circumnavigate the lake before dusk, taking the Big John II portion of the yellow bridle trail. I zipped along the high trail and reached an unfamiliar section with a stern warning to follow the switchbacks and not erode the hillside. I dutifully wound my way downhill, startling a flock of geese as I reached the lake shore. Once again my camera failed to focus on them in flight. Steve Austin never had this kind of trouble with his bionic eye, but it cost over a million dollars back in 1974, so I shouldn’t complain.

The trail linked to the mountain trail and I followed it around the northwest end of the lake. I then followed the bridle trail along an abandoned road with a collapsed bridge back to Ash Creek Road and traipsed back to my car. I’d hiked another 3.5 miles, bringing my total for the day to 7.5 miles. Less than 4 miles to go to reach my 300 mile goal for the year!

I drove home and it was only fitting that on the first day of winter a light snow began as I headed north on US 75. The flakes were melting upon impact, but they did make the big vertical shaft light at the Ramona casino look like a snowblower. Next week I plan to trade the Ouachitas for the Wichitas.

Click here for a slideshow from these day hikes

Lake Eufaula (click image for slideshow)

A building has integrity, just like a man, and just as seldom.

So says Ayn Rand in The Fountainhead and I was reminded of that quotation today when I made a brief return to Oklahoma’s Fountainhead. The former state park and lodge on Lake Eufaula, that is. Over 25 years ago a friend and I visited Fountainhead and Arrowhead, back when they were both operational. I’d hoped to see striking architecture at what were once the state’s premiere lodge resorts, but only found fading façades.

Eventually the state defaulted on the debt and both lodges were sold off. Arrowhead sadly became one of the Scientology cult’s Narcanon drug rehab centers while the Muscogee (Creek) Nation bought out the Fountainhead golf course and resort. The tribe is operating the golf course, but their plans to redevelop the resort have been stymied because a major building is situated on Corps of Engineers land and our dysfunctional Congress has yet to resolve the situation.

My friend Carrie and I had a long but memorably unattractive hike at Arrowhead a year ago. The trails there were rough, rocky, uninteresting, and littered with dozens upon dozens of beer cans. So I had faint hope for what I’d find 17 miles north at Fountainhead, now renamed Lake Eufaula State Park. The park map showed only two longer trails, one of which appeared to be a handicapped accessible hard surface loop. I appreciate the need for that sort of trail, but it has limited appeal to me. But I wanted to hike on a pretty December day, had an evening Christmas party to attend, and we’re in the midst of deer hunting season. So I was seeking a state park with a trail new to me and the former Fountainhead was my choice.

I dropped my car off for a tire rotation while I walked 1/3 mile up US 75 to grab breakfast. After that I had the oil changed and made the two-hour run south to Lake Eufaula. I chose not to turn off and see the decrepit lodge but drove past the park sign to the visitor center. It was naturally much like the one at Arrowhead, with a silly steep aluminum roof with a gold or copper anodized coating which has almost completely worn away. If you back far enough away and get some of the roadside pines they’ve planted in the shot, it looks a bit better. As at the other park the restrooms were in a separate building and bizarrely built with extremely narrow doors and vestibules. They’re anything but ADA compliant.

Across the road I found the trailhead for the Chinkapin Trail. It was a mowed and cleared strip, a bit soggy from recent rains. It would no doubt be more appealing at other times of the year, but probably not much more interesting. It crossed a couple of tiny almost-dry creekbeds which once had piped crossings but those had washed out. The old concrete pipes were discarded to the side, an unattractive reminder of an investment no one cares to renew. I then began hearing the shots.

Hunters were busy, not in the state park, but across the lake. Since the park is on a peninsula the sounds of various shots boomed across the water, hardly conducive to a relaxing hike. I wanted to see the lake from the shore, but knowing a shot can carry a long ways I donned my orange vest and decided to wrap up this trip. I reached a leafstrewn gully/road and it led past what appeared to a pond built right into the lake’s shore. Trees and, sadly, some jetsam jutted from the rim of Eufaula Pond…or should I say from the edge of Lake Eufaula?

The trail led on to the closed Longhorn Loop camping area, which had a truly nasty shelter that typifies what goes wrong with cheap modernism which is not properly maintained. I walked down to the lake shore and then fled along the asphalt loop road to return to my car. Along the way I spotted a side trail and followed it to an old neglected cemetery. The Logans had the biggest tombstone, while the most touching was for the Fox’s dead baby.

I returned to the road and was ambling through a clearing when a buck and doe bounded past me. I didn’t bother with the camera but just grinned and admired their strides. Knowing another deer might well be nearby, I followed a clear cut they had emerged from and eventually found another buck eyeing me from a distance. I shot him at full zoom, but my shots were far less deadly than my fellow hunters’.

Returning up the highway to the visitor’s center I noticed they planted the pines too close to the power lines, resulting in ugly cutbacks. Poor planning, but it did provide a nice screen from the road for a bit. I also discovered why this area was called Longhorn Loop. A herd of the namesake cows was in a field beside the road. A giant roadside fish told me I’d reached the end of my 4.15 mile hike.

With distant gunshots still echoing across the lake, I opted to forgo the tiny nature trails in the other camping areas and the Hummingbird Beach trail just north of the airstrip and headed home. I shan’t return to Lake Eufaula, as it has disappointed me too often. Hopefully I’ll have better luck hiking in southwestern Oklahoma during winter break.

Click here for a slideshow from this day hike

It was in that setting that I saw for the first time what critics laud as two of the greatest films ever made: Welles’ Citizen Kane and Hitchcock’s Vertigo. Both feature music by Bernard Herrmann and Vertigo has a Saul Bass title sequence to die for. Be sure to watch it in full screen at the highest resolution available.

You really can’t grasp the power of this any more. Even the Blu-Ray version on a big HD television won’t give you the sensation I had watching that for the first time on a wall-sized screen in a huge auditorium. That sucker swallowed scores of people around me. We drowned in its depths.

Bass had seen Lissajous figures in a math book years before and he realized that putting those spirals into motion could symbolize the vertigo of the protagonist and the abyss awaiting him. I’d seen such figures animated before, not on a movie screen, but on an oscilloscope. Back in 1958 John Whitney devised a sine wave pendulum to etch such figures into glass and collaborated with Bass to produce the mechanical animations for Vertigo. After seeing the movie I went home and began programming trig functions in BASIC, eager to try to produce similar animations on my Tandy 2000 home computer.

Saul Bass is probably the most famous title designer of all, having worked repeatedly for some of the best directors, such as Hitchock, Preminger, and Scorsese. Here’s a neat quick look at many of his efforts. Be sure you click the options for HD and fullscreen.

And here’s a neat student animation project about Bass with Kraftwerk’s great early song “Ruckzuck” from the album they refuse to acknowledge these days.

When you think of memorable title sequences, I’m sure you think of James Bond films, most of them the work of Maurice Binder. It is hard to pick out my favorite, and some of them look rather dated, such as the neon make-up and laser images in A View to a Kill. But when I was a prepubescent boy I found those sequences terribly provocative. My eyes opened wide…and then hurriedly scanned the room to make sure my parents didn’t know what I was watching.

A movie many people disliked but which I found enjoyably disturbing was Frankenheimer’s 1996 version of The Island of Dr. Moreau with Marlon Brando at his most weird. I remember being drawn in by Thomas Cobb’s powerful title sequence. Again, you really need to see this on a big screen in full res.

Yes, that’s the same guy who did the scary titles for Se7en.

Title sequences can go awry, of course. I remember Mr. Jennings, my 7th grade math teacher, complaining to my class about the very long title sequence in 1978′s Superman with the big swooping letters. Well, at least you have John Williams’ score pounding away to relieve some of the monotony.

I had fun browsing through this list of great title sequences. As I peruse the list, I’d say their last pick is one of my first: the huge lips and great geeky song by Richard O’Brien from The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

It’s simple, cheap, and memorable, focusing your attention on the song…once you get over the fear of being bitten!