Colorful ecotones in Chickasaw Nat’l Recreation Area

May 21, 2017

It’s always fun when you reach some destination and have your world turned upside down when you arrive. Things aren’t what you think they’re going to be. That’s the whole fun of traveling for me. And that’s what happened during a night (in our new tent!) at Chickasaw National Recreation Area: I learned that Oklahoma is more than flat sand and drab, grey boredom.

In fact it isn’t that at all.

After driving through the rain and then cool air of the Ouachita Mountains of Arkansas and into Oklahoma, Masayo and I arrived at Chickasaw NRA in the late afternoon. What the area teaches you is that Oklahoma can be downright beautiful.

Orienting Yourself in Chickasaw NRA

Chickasaw NRA is, as the official brochure says, all about water. Lakes, springs and rivers, and the wildlife that populates them. (More on the human wildlife we met later.) The really cool thing is that the area is an “ecotone”; i.e., a place where two different ecosystems meet. In this case, the mountains we’d just come from (like in Arkansas) and the prairies of America’s tornado alley join here. So there are more animals and plants and stuff in a place like Chickasaw NRA.

By the way, National Park nerds will be interested to know that there was once a Platt National Park. It was around for most of the twentieth century, in fact. Then Platt NP was incorporated into this larger area in 1976 (the current National Recreation Area), but an equally cool fact is that the former NP had been named for a Connecticut senator called Orville Hitchcock Platt. They just don’t make names like they did in the 19th century, do they? I bet he had towels monogrammed OHP. Wouldn’t you?

Though lacking in our own monogrammed toiletries, we drove to our campsite, a pleasant and friendly little gravel circle under gorgeous swaying trees. Continuing the theme of cool names, our campsite was located near a lake called Lake of the Arbuckles. Not “Lake Arbuckle” mind you, but “Lake of the Arbuckles”. That sort of grandeur impresses a visitor.

A Night Camping in Chickasaw NRA

I set up our brand new yellow NatureHike tent, recently purchased from Amazon to replace the former, no-privacy, too-small one. And threw in our other new purchase, blue rolled-up sleeping pads. You accumulate, discard, and swap out gear as you embark on a long trip like this.

The pace of life when camping is different than, say, being back home or even being in a motel. The sun was slowly ending its day somewhere above and behind the trees, and we strolled down to the edge of the Lake of Fatty Arbuckle to be stunned by its watery beauty.

And that’s what happened. The sun glinted off the surface of the water, which was mostly flat with little ripples of waves gently nudging the grassy shore. Two or three trees grew out in the water. And although a park ranger had dissuaded us from actually getting in the water (what with the snakes and leeches), people were swimming and having a good old time.

A family of leech-lovers.

I didn’t see the occupant of this web. Not sure I wanted to.

This type of camping – a few feet from your car, in a numbered lot among many – also encourages social interaction, at least to a degree. Our neighbors were a guy retired from the poultry business, his fiancée (who had some sort of medical problem, and sat in a chair in a neck brace and waved wanly at us as we chatted), and his granddaughter, a rather portly kid whom he called Slenderella.

Chickasaw Neighbors: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

The friendly guy had traveled all over the United States, and gave us various tips of scenic roads to drive when we got to Colorado. He asked us about our own plans, and we were vague in our answers. Not to be evasive; we just don’t know yet. Somewhere roughly westward, was about all I could say.

We left them to their very large and cozy-looking tent. They were part of the expert camping class, the underground network of souls who bounce around the country and live by camping. Not rough; there are amenities like televisions and grills and comfy sleeping options. But still, it’s a cheap and exciting lifestyle, and I admired the smiling trio.

Our picnic dinner, at our private table under the darkening trees, was another hodgepodge of stuff made more delicious by the surroundings. If you’re going to do long-term camping travel, it’s a bonus if you love eating like this.

I could eat like this at every meal, forever.

A glimpse of the stars at dusk over Lake of the Arbuckles.

After dinner and washing our plastic dishes in the nearby designated faucet, we settled down in the tent to relax. It was tough: this was Saturday night, and not all of our fellow campers were conscientious neighbors. Music, noisy conversations and laughter, and even inappropriate screaming arguments spoiled the tranquility. Some people are insensitive to a bewildering degree.

Senator Orville Hiram Patch Adams Beauregard McGillicuddy, His Royal Plattness, would have been furious.

As someone blared music way past the posted Quiet Hours, and a couple loudly argued, Masayo and I read our Kindles and waited for sleep. Finally, around 11:00 pm, the music was turned off. The yelling couple (actual quote from the guy: “Why don’t you just tell every f—ing person in this g—–n campsite then?” – we snickered at that one) even shut up.

And so, finally, we got to sleep – on our new pads, in our dark tent under the slowly rotating stars over the southern Oklahoma prairie.

My Diabetes at Chickasaw NRA

Two thumbs up for my blood sugars at Chickasaw. Back in Hot Springs, Arkansas (and on the drive into Oklahoma) I’d been having problems with high BGs. By the time picnic dinner in our campsite came, though, I was 148. Imminently acceptable. Before bed I was 87 and so I had a cookie. (Medically necessary cookie! Who doesn’t love T1D?)

The next morning I was 143. Cool as a cucumber without an operation pancreas. Credit the new tent and sleeping pads with giving me a stress-free slumber? Maybe.

After getting the poison ivy lesson and then driving through another giant chunk of Oklahoma, my readings for the rest of the day were all between – get this! – 78 and 98.

It was as if Chickasaw NRA just straightened me out, removed all the diabetic badness I’d been accumulating. It wouldn’t last forever (where would the fun be in that…?) but for a day and half, I have to tip my hat to Chickasaw and sparkly Lake of the Arbuckles for smoothing things over.

When you travel a lot, you just naturally harmonize with some destinations.

Waking Up Rested in Chickasaw

The sun popped back the next morning, and we’d had a good sleep. After a quick breakfast (oatmeal, fruit, coffee, bleariness, quiet, contentedness – you know, the usual for a campsite) we said goodbye to the neighbors and drove to some other sites in the area.

Little Niagara, for example. It’s a joke name for a three-foot section of rocks in Travertine Creek. But it was fun to try to snap photos of the cold, clear water flowing over them, and despite the iciness there were even a couple of swimming kids braving the creek.

Coffee in a campsite: nothing better.

Little Niagara, in Travertine Creek near Chickasaw NRA’s Nature Center.

At the Travertine Nature Center you can see some interesting displays about wildlife in the area, including a live snake in an aquarium. (Scorpions, tarantulas, and Western diamondbacks are just some of the creatures that you can run into in this area, although all we saw was rabbits, a turtle, and a beautiful white bird called a snow bunting. Oh, and the amusing arguing couple. I wonder if they had a surly, hateful breakfast together?)

In the Nature Center we chatted with a ranger, a woman with red hair and striking painted-on eyebrows who explained how to identify poison ivy. I spent my childhood running around the woods of Georgia and don’t recall getting poison ivy, ever. I regaled her with this smug tale, and she countered that she’d had a similar upbringing but, as an adult, had contracted a bad case of poison ivy.

Something else to look out for. If leeches don’t get you, the poison ivy will.

In Conclusion: The First Taste of Oklahoma Was… Pretty Sweet!

Maybe you’re like me, and your conception of Oklahoma has been influenced by pictures of the Dust Bowl of the 1930s, or of Dorothy’s sparse, flat tornadoland in The Wizard of Oz. (And, uh, you figured Kansas and Oklahoma are basically the same thing. Ahem.) Well, I’m happy to report that Oklahoma is beautiful, with rolling green hills, shimmering waters, chipper wildlife, and beaming, friendly locals. You should plan a trip there without hesitation. I’d absolutely love to go back and explore the state more.

As for us, we left Chickasaw National Recreation Area with yet another feeling that we could have spent another day or two there at least. That seems to keep happening, but that’s the nature of a trip like this: you always continue onward after getting a li’l taste of somewhere.

The lingering impression of Chickasaw NRA will be one of pleasantness, water, fun, and comfort. Even when they’re bitching at each other all evening or being eaten by scorpions, I can see why locals are drawn to the area. They’re lucky to live near such an attractive (and actually safe) place.

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You can support my work via Patreon. Get early links to new videos, shout-outs in my videos, and other perks for as little as $1/month.

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