Our Route
Route miles - 399
What an Adventure!
June 2001
By Laurie Allshouse
Where can you find bugs, heat, wind, hunger,
exhaustion and cold showers? Why do hundreds of people train whenever time
permits in eager anticipation of an event called FreeWheel? Traveling
across Oklahoma by bike has become an annual rite of passage that beacons the
old, the young, the experienced and the novice riders to join this merry band of
bicyclists bonding with nature and feeling exhilaration at the end of a day
riding the roads and highways of Oklahoma in June.
FreeWheel 2001 started in Hugo, Oklahoma. Our band of
characters dubbed Team Legs by Moni Neville, who even sewed a special Legs flag
for us to fly at our campsite, consisted of Jim and Arletta Webster, Bob Noll
and his six place bike trailer along with Gary Cannon, who planned to ride the
route with fully loaded panniers. The plan was for each
participant to drive one day of the week to the next campsite and secure us a
spot among the 1200 other tenters/bikers.
This year’s FreeWheel was dedicated to the memory of OBS
member and good friend to many, Jim Nelson. Jim loved FreeWheel, the
people and it’s spirit. We thought of Jim often as we rode with the people
he loved.
Saturday found us setting up camp across from the Depot Museum and Hugo Heritage
Railroad. We knew exactly where to go and what to expect because this year’s
participation packet included a great booklet put together by Ms. Harris’
Fourth-Grade Class from an elementary school in Tulsa. This booklet was
filled with valuable information about the places to eat, the population,
camping locations, and neat things to see and do in the area of each campsite.
What a great idea! I hope they continue to provide us with such valuable
information every year.
After an obligatory ride to the Texas state line, we spotted
a place to eat called the Cedar Shed and decided to give it a try. Not
only did they have good food, but also the wait staff couldn’t have been
friendlier. At the owner’s suggestion, they gave us seven grocery bags
filled with ice to take back to camp and fill our ice chest, water bottles and
camelbaks with. What a treat! We had enough left over to cool hot
bodies that were baking in the afternoon sun. Not a breath of wind was
found and my body started to feel like a fried chicken as a harbinger of the
days to follow.
We rode out to the Mt. Olive cemetery where circus performers
are buried with quite unique headstones gracing the landscape. Upon
returning to tent city, we discovered a little ten-year-old girl singing her
heart out to a mesmerized group of campers. I don’t know what it is about
eastern Oklahoma but they sure know how to raise beautiful songsters here.
Sometime that evening, Jerry Neville and David Krawczyk came
rolling in after riding 181 miles in one day. Jerry had parked his van in
Siloam Springs on Friday. He and David rode about 20 or 30 miles before
stopping for the night. Saturday they rode the rest of the way into Hugo.
David, aka Motormouth, couldn’t even talk he was so tired.
Sunday was to be our longest day with 71.5 miles. The
day was hot and humid even though we rode through Ice and Snow. Ice was
just a sign that we took pictures at. The official lunch stop was at Snow
but they ran out of food after 200 lunches. With over 1000 riders, this
was not a good sign. We purchased some Gatorade and ate energy bars and
trail mix that I had made for just such emergencies. Little did I know
that we’d be using those rations so early in the tour.
Jim’s thermometer read 93 degrees as we rode over the
Kiamichi Mountains at a blistering 4.1 mph. The heat and humidity were
really bothering me but I limped into Honobia, a church camp that was hosting
the second night of FreeWheel. Bob Noll instructed me to start drinking
water until it started running out the other end. When I finally got
hydrated again, I ventured into the showers and heard the most beautiful
singing. Three sisters who come from different places around the United
States to join one another and ride this annual event occupied three showers.
Their melodic voices were singing a song acappella that their dad loved and they
hoped to surprise him with on his birthday. At first I thought they were
playing a radio and even after I learned differently, someone stopped by and
asked about the radio. Those sisters were amazingly good singers. I
wonder if they were from the same eastern Oklahoma breeding grounds as the
ten-year-old girl.
Dinner at the mess hall kept being postponed from 5:00 to
5:30 and then to 6:00. The line waiting for hamburgers was reportedly 1 ½
hours long. At 5:40 it dawned on us that we had a vehicle and could sure
use it to drive 20 miles to Talimena for a meal in air-conditioned comfort.
We discovered the Kiamachi Café and enjoyed a great meal with plans to stop for
breakfast the next morning since our ride took us over this same route.
Earlier in the day Jim Webster had tried to keep me going by telling me that a
cold front had swept through camp and it was 65 degrees. When I’m hot and
tired, I’ll believe anything. I was upset with him for pulling my leg when
it wasn’t that cool but the next morning, darned if it wasn’t 68 degrees when we
started pulling up camp. Those cool morning temperature were a welcome
relief for the five-mile climb we faced leaving Honobia to get over the Kiamachi
and then Winding Stair Mountains. Another hot, humid day was quickly
burning any memory of the cool morning away from my conscience.
Jim bonked at Wister. We ate some hamburgers and drank
Gatorade before we revived enough to stumble the last ten miles into camp at
Poteau. It was a hard day with the afternoon heat reaching the 90’s again,
no wind and the humidity was stifling. The only thing that kept me going
was the thought that I would get to drive on Tuesday in an air conditioned van
that can chill you to the bone. I kept thinking of that cold air hitting
my face and arms. I was pretty much zonked when I hit camp. We had
dinner at a Western Sizzlin buffet and consumed as much food as our ravaged
bodies could hold.
Tuesday was my day to drive and I was enjoying it to the max.
Gary Cannon gave me instructions on finding the perfect campsite: next to
a bubbling brook, close to the showers, plenty of shade trees and not near a
security light.
Maria Potter, Debbie Whitacre and I drove in a convoy to
Warner. Debbie had three walk about radios that we could keep in touch
with each other. Brent (14) read the map for us and read pages from our
FreeWheel guidebook.
Conners State College was our camping area and darned if they
didn’t have a couple small duck ponds with a stream running between them.
We crated tents and luggage over a bridge to set up camp in the protection of
big trees and right across the road from the shower building. Gary was
quite pleased with our choice of campsites.
Crazy day found Andy dressed in a wedding dress riding his
recumbent with a bouquet of flowers to grab whenever a proposal was made and a
photographer was nearby. His mother told me that she scoured thrift shops
and the largest she could find was a size 14 which fit him perfectly.
Jim went to bed quite early that evening while the rest of
our bunch sat in a circle telling tall tales and waiting to see the firework
display that was advertised on billboards all over town. At 9:30 a series
of rapid-fire bangs and bursts started the display off with an earth shattering
crescendo. Jim came bursting out of the tent wondering if we were under
attack. He resigned himself to sit with us while the display continued
with beautiful colors lighting up the nighttime sky. Of course, the finale
was enough to wake the dead if they hadn’t been awoken by the initial display.
Wednesday proved to be my best day
of riding. It started out a cloudy day on a beautiful route around Lake
Tenkiller. It was very hilly but I had had a day of rest and I was strong!
I even climbed a hill that Gary called a telephone pole. Jim, Webster and
Tod all walked it but I pedaled my way to the top, thanks to Moni’s chalk
messages that read, “Shift! Shift now! Shift! . . . . . . . . . too late
At mile 30 we came upon the perfect lunch stop.
After sandwiches and Gatorade, Jim just wasn’t revived. He kept saying how
tired he was. We called Arletta (her day to drive) and she drove out to
pick him up and get a ride to Tahlequah’
At a little town called Welling, the volunteer fire
department put on a feed that included homemade chicken and dumplings. For
a bowl of the dumplings and lemonade the charge was $1.50. I thought I was
hallucinating. I asked twice what the charge was. We sat in the
shade of the firehouse with a huge fan circulating air. There were huge
banners of paper on the wall to sign your name. Some of the banners were
from past FreeWheel stops and it was fun to read what everyone had written.
Thursday we didn’t have to strike up camp. We would be spending another night in Tahlequah. Arletta was anxious to get back in the saddle after her day to drive. The rest of us were glad not to have to get in the saddle. I woke up at 5 a.m. (Why do I always do that on vacation but never on a workday?) I sat outside our tent watching the sky get lighter. Gary Cannon stumbled out of his tent and was headed to breakfast in the gym so I joined him. Bob, Jim Webster, Jim and I decided to ride the free shuttle bus provided by Tahlequah to the downtown area. We ambled the streets, window shopped, had coffee and donuts, window shopped some more and had lunch. Jim Webster said, “This is what retirement should be like.” Even though he retired last year, he seems always on the go with one volunteer position or another
Finally the time came for us to leave for our much-anticipated dinner at the Amish farm in Choteau. It was about 40 miles and a little mist had begun to fall as we were leaving camp. As we drove north, we ran into a squall line that Jim had to fight to keep the van on the road. A torrential rain made part of the journey difficult to see the road. When we finally found the Amish farm, the rain had quieted down and brought with it much cooler temperatures. We were led to the lower level of a large tri-level home. The basement was set up with 5 or 6 long tables that could seat up to 100 people. The home was lit with gaslights hanging from the ceiling. One daughter told us that most people visit in the spring or fall since they don’t have air conditioning. With the rainstorm, it was blissfully cool and comfortable. The meal was served family style. For $11 a piece, we were served roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, noodles, dressing, green beans, cole slaw, dinner rolls, butter and apple butter like my grandma used to make. For desert we had coconut cream pie to die for. Bob asked about any other kind of pie and then proceeded to eat two pieces of the coconut cream. The potatoes and dressing were the best I’ve ever had. All the guys raved about the noodles. This was a carbo load dinner that bicyclists only dream about. We filled our stomachs to the brim and then ate a little more.
Satisfied we headed back to camp and noticed awfully dark clouds sporting
streaks of lightening to the south where Tahlequah stood. The storm that
had hit Tulsa and OKC wasn’t scheduled to hit that far south but things didn’t
look good. I commented about a scene from Survivor II where Colby wins
immunity and rides off with Australian cowboys to a great dinner and upon his
return the next day finds the campsite washed away and other tribal members in a
stupor trying to salvage any belongings. No one was a Survivor fan but
when we got back to camp, it was pouring down rain and many of the tents were
slumped to the ground. David and Michelle’s tent blew away and their
waterproof sacks were located across the open field that now resembled a small
shallow lake. Moni came running up to us and apologized for not being able
to save our tent. She was out in the field with a tent mallet making
ditches to divert the flowing water around OBS tents. Our tent had both
tent poles broken in the wind and poked a hole through the rain fly, allowing
rain to gather inside the tent and soak everything. Jim and Arletta’s tent
suffered much the same, as well as Craig and Debbie’s and Jerry’s. All we
could say was, “We sure had a good dinner,” as we looked in shock at the
destruction. We started crating things back to the van. We didn’t
dare park where we had before because of the water level and soaked earth.
It was quite a hike carrying soaked sleeping bags and wet luggage. Gary
asked to use our cell phone. The original plan was for him to ride into
Jay by noon on Friday where Ron Hitchcock was picking him up for an early trip
home because of previously made plans. He called Ron to see if he could
just pick him up in Tahlequah on Friday morning. When Gary left the van,
he locked the doors. Little did he notice that the keys were sitting in
the driver’s seat and my keys were in my camelbak, also inside the van. I
did happen to have my AAA card in my pocket, so we gave them a call. In a
little over an hour and a little past 10 o’clock, the tow truck came to unlock
our van. By then, Jim and Arletta were set up inside the middle school
halls. Their sleeping bags were just a little damp. They offered us
their two dry sleeping mats with dry sheets and a pillow for each of us.
What a deal! My soaked hiking pants were quickly drying and I didn’t
notice that the bottom of my t-shirt was wet. We settled down with the
sound of footsteps tromping to the bathroom fading away as our exhausted bodies
found sleep. I woke up about three in the morning with a soaked shirt.
That damp bottom slowly wicked its way to give me a completely wet t-shirt.
I was cold! Jim gave me his sheet and I slowly drifted off to sleep.
Morning found us out in the field gathering tent stakes, ice
chests and fold up chairs. That little German angel Moni was out there
blowing soap bubbles and cracking jokes to lighten everyone’s mood. Bob
and Gary had slept in their tents but Bob claimed to have spent a miserable
night. He voted for going home. Jim and Arletta were game for
continuing on. The rain had stopped and cooler temperatures looked to be
in store for the next two days. Bob called Gloria to come get him in
Tahlequah and we headed for the laundromat to clean and dry soaked belongings.
We had stuff strung out all over the parking lot, checking for wet items.
Several people stopped by to see if we were having a yard sale. I washed
our sleeping bags and all other soaked items. I used front loading washers
and found them to get clothes much cleaner than the traditional kind. The
man who owned the laundry told me that it reverted back to pounding a rock on
clothes at the river to get them clean. The drum agitates one direction
and then another to work the dirt out. I want my next washing machine to
be one of these front-loading types.
While at the laundromat, Arletta ran into a friend whose tent
had been destroyed and was doing the same thing as we were. She asked
Sharlene if she was going to Jay and had room for a couple of bags. Then
she told us that we could pack our big body bag with sleeping mats, sheets,
pillows and one change of clothes. Sharlene could take the stuff to Jay
for us. We would drive to Siloam Springs and park the van for Saturday.
Then we’d ride to Jay on the reverse route of the Saturday ride. What a
deal! We’d all get to ride together. Jim and Jim would be cheated
out of their day to drive. We did miss riding from Tahlequah to Jay, which
my boss had said was one of the prettiest roads on the trip. Maybe we can
ride that route again one day. We also missed a heck of an uphill climb
that took the Whitacres 45 minutes to crest. At Jay, numerous people were
glad to see we hadn’t gone home as they had expected we might. There were
quite a few people who dropped out of the tour after the Tahlequah storm.
I was glad we went on and found that I slept as well on the floor of a gymnasium
as I did in our tent. Jay had three gyms and three places with nice warm
showers.
For dinner we had a hog fry dinner at the school. I was
disappointed that it turned out not to be the pig roast kind of meat I was
expecting. Hunks of hog are deep-fried and I can’t say that it tasted very
good. But food is food on FreeWheel and a person will eat about anything.
Saturday, we rode into Siloam Springs, Arkansas. The route this way seemed
easier and it was definitely cooler in the morning than our afternoon ride the
day before. Johnnie and Diana, who usually ride way ahead of us, decided
to take it easy and join us for the last day of the ride. We stood in line
to take group photos at the Arkansas border. We were sorry to see the tour
end.
Bill Scimica, whom we originally met on a Sierra club outing,
was looking for a ride to OKC, and we offered a spare seat to him. We
decided to take showers at the gym in Siloam Springs and wait for the 1:00
closing ceremonies.
FreeWheel is known for it’s cold showers. We lucked out
this year, or so we thought. Siloam Springs didn’t want to break a
tradition. I screamed with the first cold blast of water and then laughed,
as Esther couldn’t quit yelping in the cold spray.
Visiting a booth selling lemonade and iced tea, I noticed that the t-shirts they were selling said:
Oklahoma FreeWheel
SURVIVOR
2001
Hugo, OK to Siloam Springs, AR
That shirt was made for me! This was definitely one Survivor FreeWheel. I had battled heat, humidity and hills to make it to the finish line. At the closing ceremonies, I won a cap and Jim won a FreeWheel 2001 jersey that looks like it was tie died and is worth $60. Tony won a cap also. FreeWheel attendance was down this year and I never had to wait in line for a shower. Part of the reason was because the U.S. Open was in Tulsa and Tiger Woods was slated to play. The same storm that destroyed our tent shut down the tournament for one day, I think.
There is something about the FreeWheel spirit that permeates your being during the week. Strangers offer help, food and assistance. Even when a storm destroys a camp, people move on to plan B and continue the tour. Smiles dot the faces of sun-parched faces. We are all survivors and a brotherhood is formed. FreeWheel is not just a ride, it’s a religious experience.