I've chosen Altus, OK not for it's tourist attractions, but because my good friend, Steve, is currently there for in-flight refueling training for his work with the Air Force. Steve flies C-17s, AKA giant aircraft that can carry two army tanks inside with room to spare. His girlfriend, Jamie, also a good friend from college, has called to say that I'd better see Steve in Altus or I may not see him on my trip. They live in Charleston, SC, a stop ahead for me, but Steve will still be in training when I reach the East Coast.
After Steve and I stuff ourselves with as much breakfast as our bellies can hold, it’s off to run errands, mostly because I need more first aid for my feet. We drive to the base first, in search of more moleskin at the BX. They have basically zero supplies of anything, which I commented was odd since they should at least have first aid supplies. Isn't the military supposed to be able to provide aid to the injured? Steve confirms this but states I am not injured enough to warrant him helping me. He also states my blisters are disgusting, and so is using the “skin of moles” to cover my feet. Steve is not empathetic towards my situation, and he does not understand "Moleskin's" purpose in regard to blisters. Steve also did not climb out of the depths of hell two days ago. Steve does scarier things like try to put fuel into giant aircraft while in mid air. Steve is a badass.
After Steve and I stuff ourselves with as much breakfast as our bellies can hold, it’s off to run errands, mostly because I need more first aid for my feet. We drive to the base first, in search of more moleskin at the BX. They have basically zero supplies of anything, which I commented was odd since they should at least have first aid supplies. Isn't the military supposed to be able to provide aid to the injured? Steve confirms this but states I am not injured enough to warrant him helping me. He also states my blisters are disgusting, and so is using the “skin of moles” to cover my feet. Steve is not empathetic towards my situation, and he does not understand "Moleskin's" purpose in regard to blisters. Steve also did not climb out of the depths of hell two days ago. Steve does scarier things like try to put fuel into giant aircraft while in mid air. Steve is a badass.
To make matters worse we now have to go to Walmart to find what
we need. I despise Walmart but desperate times, you know? Steve has limited
options for salon services in Altus, so he opts for a haircut while I gather
the necessary items to tend to my wounds. We both exit the automatic doors with
a feeling of self loathing. Steve hates his haircut, and I hate myself for
going to Walmart. I guess this too shall pass.
Steve very much wants to go to the Wichita Mountains
Wildlife Refuge to get some hiking in, and so far none of his friends have wanted to accompany him on this expedition. I too want to go, but my feet do not. I
wrap multiple layers of bandages over them and stuff them into my shoes hoping for
the best. We make the short drive to the refuge and search for a good hiking
spot. Steve has been here before and has a place in mind, but does not quite recall
where it is.
Bison and elk graze just off the road, and longhorns rest with
their calves in the brush. The entire area is open range so we share the
adventure with the wildlife. We decide on a trail that leads towards a watch
tower and then stops short at an ascending pile of large rocks that appears to
pose a good challenge for climbing. As we make our way up the trail towards the
tower, we notice a longhorn and what appears to be twin calves. Steve picks up
a large rock in case he needs to protect us. I ask if he has ever touched the
head of a cow because if he has he would know that their forehead is every bit
as hard as the rock in his hand. If his safety plan is bludgeoning the thing in
the head in self defense, my safety plan now consists only of outrunning Steve.
And chances are slim given my damaged means of transportation. I advise him
that if it comes down to it, gouging at the longhorns eyes as it tries to gore
him is likely going to be a better plan of defense. At which time I will be running limping in the opposite direction.
Bison and elk graze just off the road, and longhorns rest with
their calves in the brush. The entire area is open range so we share the
adventure with the wildlife. We decide on a trail that leads towards a watch
tower and then stops short at an ascending pile of large rocks that appears to
pose a good challenge for climbing. As we make our way up the trail towards the
tower, we notice a longhorn and what appears to be twin calves. Steve picks up
a large rock in case he needs to protect us. I ask if he has ever touched the
head of a cow because if he has he would know that their forehead is every bit
as hard as the rock in his hand. If his safety plan is bludgeoning the thing in
the head in self defense, my safety plan now consists only of outrunning Steve.
And chances are slim given my damaged means of transportation. I advise him
that if it comes down to it, gouging at the longhorns eyes as it tries to gore
him is likely going to be a better plan of defense. At which time I will be 
We arrive at the tower and find it is welded and boarded and shut
up tight as can be. Steve and I both harbor too much curiosity and a slight tendency
to push limits and break rules to stop at that, so we inspect all aspects of the tower in
search of a way in. After examining the welds on the door, sticking my head in
through the bars and trying to peek inside, and assessing the height of the
windows, I give up and abandon the mission. Steve takes things a little
further and attempts to scale the rock wall to a higher non barricaded window.
I close my eyes and beg him to come down before he falls to his death.
Several yards off the base of the tower, there begins a
series of huge rocks that pile up to the sky and appear ripe for climbing. We
choose separate routes and race upwards. From the top we can see the vast
expanse of the refuge mapped out below us. The sun is warm up on the rocks but
the wind swirls and whips around us at this altitude. The climb up was pretty
cool, but I’m opting for a simpler route down in order to keep some sort of
ability to continue the day’s adventure with use left in my feet. We make our way down, watchful of
setting our hands on lizards or stepping on rattle snakes. The longhorns have
moved closer and I really want a better look at the cute little twins. Steve
makes a comment that this will be the end of us. Some curious blonde that just
had to get too close to the longhorns and wound up getting herself and her
friend killed. This is how he tells the ending of our story if I keep it up. Fine. I don’t want Steve to be gored to death
after trying to bash in the skull of an angry mother longhorn all because I
wanted to see a stupid baby cow.
The new plan is to seek out at least one more spot to explore. We stop at one point and find the path washed out by recent rain. As we are about to give up and head back to Altus, we stop at one more path and settle on an expedition to “40 foot hole.” Many puns are made as we pick out the trail to our destination.
Forty Foot Hole is more like a canyon of rock formations with
a stream running through it that breaks into little rapids and falls along the way. It is a great find and while not what we expected (I’m not sure what
one should expect from a sign that says “to Forty Foot Hole” with an arrow pointing out the way), it provides a couple more hours of rock climbing. Several of the areas we journey
into spark anxiety into me for fear of falling or losing my footing and
tumbling into the water. I’m not sure there would be serious injury, but we are
in the middle of nowhere in a rock canyon and I’ve already seen the limits in
Steve’s willingness to tend to injury. 
 |
| I
call this one "Death Ledge"; as in "The closer you get to that, the farther I'm backing away," "I can't watch," "If you keep going I'm calling Jamie and telling on you," and "please come down from the death ledge." |
The sun is going down as we conclude our climbing and bouldering. No one has fallen into the water or off of the cliffs. Sigh of relief.
I take the
lead in the trail for the last section. I’m still watchful of the handholds and
footholds I choose in consideration of the wildlife that may be lurking. In the
last few minutes of our journey, I begin downward, posed to set my foot down onto a lower level
of rocks, and then let out a shriek and recoil back, following my shriek with another that
says “LIZARD!”.
I think it very courteous
of me to at least identify the threat moments after I scream. Steve has jumped several
feet away in one single motion and now stands across from me on a separate set of
rocks, staring at me with a surprised and confused look. I offer an explanation
for my behavior and point out the lizard. It has become obvious that Steve will
offer his protection when it comes to cows with giant stabbing devices mounted
on their heads, but not when it comes to creepy crawlies that startle both of
us and cause me to emit shrieks that disrupt the park atmosphere. We step
around the creature and move on without further discussion on the matter.
The drive home faces into the Oklahoma sunset and Steve opts
for country roads and country music. It is April, and my country music season
is generally late May or early June through August. But we are limited in radio
stations due to our remote location, and the classic familiar country tunes are
seeping into my heart. Steve is impersonating a dirt roads version of Jeff
Gordon and I am singing along to the radio all the way back to Altus. Oklahoma
is growing on me with it’s wide open spaces and back country roads. Feels like
home.
When we return, there is some internet research to do on the
watchtower from the wildlife refuge. It seems odd that there is a giant rock
tower in the middle of nowhere boarded up and without any signage to identify
its purpose. I am horrified at the discovery we make. Though there is limited information available, Jed Johnson
Tower on Lake Jed Johnson is allegedly haunted. There have been accounts of
people hearing a woman’s screams coming from the tower, and feeling as though
ghosts were walking beside them when they would walk up the stairs when the
building was open to the public. I am terrified because not only am I completely frightened
of spooks, but I stuck my face into the bars in the door so my head was in the
building. CREEPY. Steve picks this moment to announce that he knew that place was creepy and
couldn't believe I put my face in there. Dear Steve, thanks for telling me
before I got ghost dust all over my nose. Now I won’t sleep tonight.
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