In between my shifts at The Wedge and Walker's mountain of reading, we headed to the Wichita Mountains for a festive Labor Day weekend hike that involved getting up early (!!!), prarie dogs (!!!), boulder bouncing, constant bramble leg scratches, getting lost, a big-man-in-leather-gloves old fashioned wilderness scare, and pushing Walker out of the way in my hysteric haste to avoid a snake.
Characteristically, we were soooo hungry and thirsty mid-hike that we pushed through to the end by dreaming of lemonade and the famous Meers hamburgers.
However, Meers was insanely crowded, so we ended up strolling around the adorably quirky and cobblestoned Medicine Park sampling hot dogs and listening to blues by the swimming hole. Our favorite hot dog came from Santa's Snack Shop (see the picture of "Santa" grilling out in his Hawiian shirt behind me. I avoided interaction at all costs).
There was this newly married couple I took a climbing class with when I worked for a summer in Jackson Hole, Wyoming - they had just moved there from Virginia so they could take monster hikes on the weekends and reward themselves with cold beers afterwards. And I remember thinking that was a nice idea to construct a life around.
{I also discovered I am awful at rock climbing. Ugh.}
So, the Wichita's are really neat. Kind of like where all the Oklahoma classics combine into one super beautiful spot.
Seven Nation Army, The White Stripes.
The Distance, Cake.
