Varied Skies

When living in Altus, Oklahoma, as a youth, our license plate proudly proclaimed “OKLAHOMA IS OK.”

How inspiring! I’m sure my Arkansas relatives thought the folks in Oklahoma City approved “OK” as the adjective in the slogan because no Sooner could spell “mediocre.” Perhaps a state that has endured more than its fair share of killer tornadoes, dust bowls, locust plagues, Indian massacres, and big-game collapses simply can’t aspire to being something more than “OK.” Or maybe the state just inadvertently hired a Texas-born marketing director. I don’t know. What I do know is that I enjoyed my time in Oklahoma and any state that can produce a Garth Brooks and a Carrie Underwood is, by definition, more than OK.

Oklahoma abandoned the OK slogan long ago and now sports a nifty “Native America” proclamation on its license plates complete with a statuesque Native American firing an arrow into the air.

No doubt Oklahoma should take pride in its rich Native American history. It can now also take pride in being the last piece in our lower 48-state travel puzzle.

389 days after leaving home, we departed Branson, motored through the Arkansas Ozarks, plowed through the busy roads of Springdale and made a beeline west to the Oklahoma border. Anticipation built as we neared the state line and passed the Arkansas Welcome Center offering free coffee to eastbound travelers fleeing Oklahoma. But when we crossed the border…nothing. No “Welcome to Oklahoma” sign. Definitely no visitor center. The only indication we had entered Oklahoma was an “Entering Cherokee Nation” sign.

But this seemed more like a warning than a welcome to us Georgians. Indeed, the Cherokee arrived here from Georgia after enduring a brutal, forced, march known as “The Trail of Tears.” Somehow entering their Nation in a well-stocked RV after voluntarily roaming the country for a year seemed a bit incongruous.

But we persevered and landed at Natural Falls State Park.

Natural Falls State Park is home to Dripping Springs Falls. Savvy readers might recognize it as a filming location for the heartwarming film “Where the Red Fern Grows.” Normally 77 feet tall, a dry spell had reduced it to a mere trickle for our visit.

The stagnant water of the downstream lake supported algae growth that looked like a green carpet you could walk across.

After our hike, we held a drawing to see who would have the honor of placing the final sticker on our travel map. L won.

Though our trip is not quite over, we’ve come a long way, baby!

Thank you, Oklahoma, for hosting our 48-state celebration. We are now off to spend the 4th of July weekend with family at Lake Fort Smith State Park, near Mountainburg, AR. We hope you all have a spectacular and safe time celebrating the birth of these United States of America.