We thought we’d seen it all on Route 66. Then Oklahoma said, “Hold my beer!”
Welcome back to our Route 66 adventure! This stretch had scenic riverfronts, ominous tornados that sent (some of) us running for cover, and a trip into Osage town, where history, tragedy, and Hollywood collided in Killers of the Flower Moon.
I’m not afraid of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.
– Woody Allen
If you missed earlier installments, here’s your chance to catch up:
- Part 1… Arizona?, where burros wanted to hitch a ride
- Part 2: New Mexico where we looked into the Blue Hole
- Part 3: Texas where we spray-painted some cars
- Part 4: Erick, Oklahoma, where we met the Redneck King of Rt 66
- Part 5: Oklahoma‘s Bridges, Bohemians, and Bombshells
- Part 6: Oklahoma has The Center of the Universe
Day 9 (cont.)
25-mile Oasis – Arkansas River Park
We kept exploring Tulsa with Brad, our friend who had moved from Vegas to Oklahoma. Hungry after our brush with industrial mythology, we picked up Trader Joe’s Cobb salads and Brookies (brownie+cookie) and headed to the banks of the Arkansas River. Tulsa has 25 miles of riverside trails and parks. Joggers, families on bikes, and happy pups, all share this beautiful, green slice of the city.
That night, we fell asleep, tired and contented in our sweet corner room with huge windows on the 8th floor of the Hyatt Place Hotel in Tulsa—until around 3 AM.
A Night in the Path of a Tornado or What to Pack for an Apocalypse
I jolted awake to what sounded like a freight train thundering through the downtown. My phone buzzed with two alerts: First from my sister – “Are you watching the news??” and the second from the National Weather Service: TORNADO WARNING IN YOUR AREA. SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY.
I learned the difference between “Tornado Watch” (A bit windy but we’re monitoring the sky just in case) and “Tornado Warning” (Get your ass into a shelter before you become a lawn dart! Yes, that was your neighbor’s car flying by the window!)
I shook Mark: “We need to move into the hallway” I said in panic, quickly grabbing some essentials: my phone, a crumpled receipt from yesterday’s gas station run, and a pair of fuzzy socks. Because, apparently, I like to face the Armageddon with impeccable financial records and warm feet.
The trees were bending at the waist, their branches furiously scratching against the buildings. The wind howled as it hit our windows, the corner room now seemed terrifyingly exposed and fragile.
I got mad at Mark, who decided he’d be just as safe in bed, watching the Weather Channel’s radar images of angry red storm cells moving through Tulsa. Brad was calm but cautious.
They confirmed an EF-1 tornado just northwest of the city with winds over 100 miles (160km) per hour. I’m not used to these rotating columns of destruction, so those 40 minutes felt eternal. When the warning finally expired and the winds calmed, I crawled back into bed, wide awake—a proper Oklahoma welcome that doesn’t make it into the tourism brochures.
Day 10
Stillwater’s Botanical Gardens
The hellish winds passed as quickly as they came. By morning, the sky was impossibly blue, the air scrubbed clean. It was the kind of day that begged to be spent outside, so we drove to Stillwater Botanical Garden.
A garden cat wove between our legs, while chickens pecked at the dirt in their enclosures. We wandered through a Japanese garden, found a swing hanging from a tree, and settled for a while in whimsical, colorful wooden chairs scattered throughout. There were ginkgo trees, their fan-shaped leaves glowing in the sun. I plucked one and gave it a cautious nibble. The flavor took me by surprise. Tart, bright, the kind of flavor that would give a nice zing to a salad, plus it would improve your memory! I pocketed a few leaves, to snack on and to press in my notebook.
Then we drove to pick up Brad’s daughter at her art college. To our delight, she took us on an impromptu tour of the school’s studios. It was like peeking into a secret world. An open sketchbook with pages rippled from water sat on an ink-stained table. Pinned on the walls were reference photos, color swatches, and moments of inspiration scribbled on scraps of paper.
The halls were filled with finished sculptures and smelled of paint and clay. The studios were full of all manner of tools and art supplies. I adore spaces like this. Here, ideas take shape, and anything is possible.
From there, we headed to Brad’s family home, where we spent the next few days riding out more storms in the best way possible—his parents welcomed us with open arms, long meals, good wine, and stories that stretched late into the night. Despite the weather reports, we managed to squeeze in a few day trips.
Day 11
Osage Country and Killers of the Flower Moon
We drove to nearby Pawhuska, an Osage village rich with history. Historically, this native American tribe owned vast ancestral lands and had huge influence. Today, they live mainly in the Osage county.
Pawhuska is where the movie Killers of the Flower Moon was filmed. It’s a true story set in 1920s Oklahoma, where oil made the Osage people rich, and greed turned their white “protectors” into murderers.
Seeing the actual locations made the story feel that much heavier. It’s one thing to watch it on a screen, and another to stand in the place where almost 100 members of the Osage were killed for their oil rights.
Day 12
We’re not in Kansas (yet)
The Weather Channel became the scariest thing on TV. Every few minutes, the screen flashed red with warnings, radar swirls tightening like a noose, grim-faced meteorologists talking about rotations and debris fields. It felt like the end of days. But then we stepped outside.
The sky wasn’t black, and the wind wasn’t howling. It was just a normal day with a few fluffy clouds. We glanced at each other, shrugged off the doomsday forecast, and decided to trust our own eyes.
We packed up, said our Thank-yous and Goodbyes, and hit the road.
As we approached the border with Kansas (a state with only a tiny 13-mile stretch of Route 66 running through it), we reflected on what Oklahoma had shown us. From Harley Russell’s magnificent shrine to American eccentricity, to the quiet dignity of the National Memorial, and the forward-looking Gathering Place Park, this state embodies the full spectrum of what makes Route 66 special. Brad and his family were the cherry on top. These connections are becoming increasingly precious in today’s world.
Quick Tips for Driving Route 66 Through Oklahoma
- Plan for Harley: Harley Russell’s Sandin’ Rebels shop in Erick is a must-see, but keep in mind it’s not always open. We got lucky, but it’s worth checking ahead if possible.
- Night at the Memorial: The Oklahoma City National Memorial is particularly moving at night when the chairs are illuminated. Don’t rush this experience.
- Take the Detour: The Gathering Place in Tulsa is worth the short detour from Route 66. Plan at least a half-day if you have kids, and bring clothes they can get wet in during summer.
- Czech It Out: If you have Eastern European roots like me (and even if you don’t), the Yukon Czech Festival happens every October, featuring authentic food and traditions.
- Don’t Skip Tulsa! The Gathering Place alone is well wort the visit, no matter what your age.
- Slow Down: The space between attractions is part of the experience.
The day had one more horror story in store: a hotel-turned-bordello where a mother and her two sons murdered 30 unsuspecting patrons. But that’s a story for another day.
Our eastward drive along Route 66 continues, with Kansas, Missouri, and Illinois all the way to Chicago – the Mother Road’s official starting line (or, for us, the grand finale). Yet, I’m starting to feel that Oklahoma with all its surprises might just be the heart of this legendary highway.
While driving Route 66 eastward (and back west through the northern states’ national parks), we covered 10,259 miles in 73 days. It cost us $2,894, or $20 per day per person. Curious how this cost breaks down? Peek into the September issue of my (free) Mappy Monday newsletter.
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