Day 10

We woke up early this morning to get on the road before it got too hot. I suppose we had reached our turnaround point and so today we began to make our way back east. After driving for nearly two hours, we stopped at a cute cafe along the side of the road. After our last experience in Kansas, my expectations were low. However, I was pleasantly surprised. G3 ordered a Philly cheese steak for breakfast. He rated it a 8.2 on a scale of 10. Not bad, considering we are in rural Oklahoma. My omelet and home fries were also good.

When I was planning this trip, I asked G3 if there was anything specific he wanted to do while on the road. He said he’d like to visit a cave. I immediately set out to look for one to visit en route. (Somehow I missed the Mark Twain cave where I got sick.) That’s how I came across Robber Cave State Park in Eastern Oklahoma—our destination for the day. I am so glad we came here. This was definitely one of our best, most enjoyable days this trip. And both G3 and I like it so much more than Chickasaw National Recreation Area. If I had known how nice it was going to be, we’d have spent one less day there and one more here. As far as state parks go, this is definitely one of the nicest I have been to. It’s no Custer or Lewis and Clark, but it still make for a great experience.

The park is called Robbers Cave because there really is a cave and between 1865 and 1890 gangs of outlaws—robbers—used to hide out in the area and rob travelers. Belle Starr was a woman who lived around here. She used to welcome the outlaws into her home. In 1889, she was murdered, but her killer was never identified. According to the guy in the nature center, Jesse James and his gang hid out in the cave. G3 thought that was cool—seeing two caves on this trip, both of which harbored Jesse James.

We have FDR to thank for the park. In 1933, when he was trying to keep men employed through various government programs, the Federal government decided to make this a state park. Much of the improvement on the land was completed by the CCC, which at this location was comprised predominantly of World War I veterans. Men in the CCC were paid not just in cash (a paycheck) but also with clothes. food, medical care, training, and opportunities in education.

Since it was another extremely hot day, and we got here when the heat was already feeling oppressive, we didn’t want to spend the day hiking—which had been my plan when I decided on the stop. However, not hiking wasn’t really an option, especially since it hadn’t quite hit 100 degrees—only 96 or 97. We first took the Rough Canyon Trail which was relatively easy. There were rocks and roots along the path wanting very much to trip me, but they didn’t. The path was also layered with small pine cones and dried pine needles. The smell was delightful and not at all what I had expected in Oklahoma.

Next we climbed up to Robber’s Cave. It was not the coolest cave we have seen, but G3 had a blast going off trail and climbing up the rocks. He was like a spider scaling the stone. A few times he went too close to the edge or climbed in places that didn’t look climbable, but he made it look easy. The rocks were pretty, as was the view from the top. The rocks formed a labyrinth and I could totally see how outlaws could hang out and hide, waiting patiently for their next victim.

After sweating in the heat, I got G3 an ice so that he could cool off. We then hit Lake Carlton. Boat rentals were cheap—only $10 and hour so when G3 asked if we could go out on the water I didn’t hesitate to say yes. He initially wanted to go kayaking, until he discovered they had paddle boards. He got really excited and asked if he could do that instead. He had done it once before, years ago, at Cub Scout camp and he enjoyed it. I had never done it, but I always wanted to try. I remember sitting at Veterans Beach in Mattituck with Dad while he watched people—completely amused—trying to maneuver on the boards. Some people—falling into the water, holding themselves as stiff as statues, crashing into things—made it look really difficult, impossible even. Dad always got a good laugh as some people fell repeatedly, unable to balance themselves even in the placid bay. Dad always said it looked like it might be boring own a board, but he too always wanted to try. COVID made sure he never had the opportunity.

G3 admitted he was looking forward to me falling. Then, when he saw I could handle the board as well as he could, he admitted that he was disappointed I didn’t fall. Sorry G3, but I have always told you that when it comes to sports I can hold my own—even in my old-age. I may not be the best at any sport, I may not have mastered any, but I am yet to find one I can’t at least do decently. Okay, I can hear Dad laughing at me. Water skiing is the exception, but I was very young when I tried—and failed. Given another opportunity, perhaps I would be able to get up. I had fun paddling around the lake. It was small so we made our way around most of it. But I’m not sure I’d be eager to do it again. I prefer kayaking.

After our hour was up, I asked G3 if he wanted to stay on the board or even go kayaking, but he wanted to swim. I went in the water with him for a bit, but when he started jumping off the dock I got out to read. There were chairs along the lake so I could sit this time. I wasn’t out long when he started playing with other boy’s again. He seemed to have fun. He played with them for over an hour. I enjoyed the quiet of the lake. The scenery was pretty and The Shining isn’t terrible. The park was practically empty all day. If it had been crowded, I am sure we wouldn’t have enjoyed it half as much.

We ate dinner in the restaurant in the park. It was not expensive and it was much easier than driving back into town. It had a rustic feel to it and the food was good. Actually, my pizza was okay, but G3 said the chicken Alfredo was the best he ever had—better even than the place he likes in Delaware. He also wanted the cheese and bacon fries. I told him he could order them if he finished his pasta and was still hungry. He polished off the Alfredo and still managed to eat a hearty portion of fires.

Our campsite is right on Lake Wayne Wallace. It was nearing sunset when we set up. Since we are leaving early tomorrow we didn’t bother with stakes. G3 suggested we leave the rain fly off as well since it’s so hot. There is no rain in the forecast so I thought it was a great idea. Although, it is so hot and there is no breeze—not even a hint—it still feels like an oven. However, the night sky was pretty. We couldn’t see the sun set, but the clouds were streaked with pink. The cicadas are as chatty here as they were in Chickasaw.

So the motor boats out on the water sound like monsters. I may not sleep tonight.