Memories

In the early 1980s, I moved with my then-husband George from Albuquerque to Oklahoma City, where I got a job managing a backpacking store (Backwoods.. I was assistant mgr. in Albuquerque and they asked me to take over the OKC store). We lived there for two years. Was surprised to find that there was awesome rock climbing in Oklahoma.

There was an old fixture of a place on Lake Overholser, called Pauline's Bait and Tackle Shop. It was a giant barn; part of it was the bait shop and the rest was an old dance hall, since the 1930s. I mean, the real deal. All the decorations from Christmas, 4th of July, Halloween and Easter for many years still hung up, gathering cobwebs between the taxidermy fish, deer, and elk heads on the wall. In the evening, there was a band: this group of elderly men - a couple of em using walkers - who would make their way up onto the stage and then the fiddles, guitars, bass, would fill the place with pounding music you couldn't believe was coming from these old codgers. One was a phenomenal yodeler, too.

Big greasy cheeseburgers and line dancing. George refused to go, so I went with some of the local yokel young rock climber guys who worked for me (a couple of these guys later put up new routes in Yosemite.. they were that good). I learned how to Oklahoma two-step. I loved that place! If people got out of order, Pauline would slap them with a flyswatter.

Finally George got a little insecure about me spending so much time with these brawny young Okie guys, I guess. He was very uptight, but he came with me to Pauline's Bait and Tackle Shop.

So George sat there with a beer and I periodically called guys over, "Hey, Randy! I want to introduce you to my husband, George!" "Jake, I haven't seen you in a while. This here is my husband George." "Oh George, come over here, I want to introduce you to Jimmy..." George was aghast that I seemed to know everybody there.

The cowboys were actually baffled that I knew them, too. I saw a few of them huddled over by the bar together, glancing over at me. Finally one of them approached us and said, "Excuse me, ma'am, ah don't reckon I recall where Ah know you frum..." That's when I told him I was just reading their names off the back of their belts. (In those days, all the cowboy types had their names stamped on the back of their western belts.) Czytaj więcej

Another long climb, mostly on a paved road surrounded by purple heather, yellow and white flowers. Every day so far has been perfect weather, cool in the morning, around 75f in the afternoon. We"re lucky because Galicia is often very rainy.
We passed through several small villages with old stone buildings and a few modern houses, but everything locked up and no one in sight. We continued to climb and I watched Olivia ahead of me, hoping her figure would descend, signalling a break in the climb.

Finally we reached the top of the ridge, with distant views in every direction. I had read a couple of things about the next town, where we planned to stay, Campobecerros. I knew that the descent to the town was steep and on unstable slate scree.

I also read alarmingly bad reviews of the one hostal in Campobecerros; that the woman who ran it was rude and unwelcoming and the rooms were dingy. One reviewer said, " just keep walking, don't even stop at the bar for coffee!" The reviews were so bad, it almost made me more interested in staying there to experience it! I mean I dont care how we,'re treated; we just wanted a place to sleep.
We entered the hostal through the bar, which was dark and full of locals, loud, either with joy or anger We recognized the sour owner right away, who pointedly ignored us. When I finally got her attention and asked for a room, she acted put out, led us to a room with two beds and left us. Dingy it was, and with that tell-tale musty aroma suggesting bedbugs. We lifted the sheet and all along the rim of the mattress was a line of spots of bood and scat from a long-term infestation. In case we weren't sure if the problem had been resolved, there was a dead bedbug on top of the sheet which meant either the bugs were still there or the sheet hadn't been changed since they were.

We went back to the bar, itching all over just from what we'd seen, and asked the "lady" to call us a taxi to Laza. She said sure, no problem and it was the first time we saw her smile, as we walked out the door.
(Pictures to come)

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