Photo Log 3: Watkins Lake Loop

“It’s good training!” That’s what we tell ourselves when something unexpected mars your training exercise.

Today’s journey takes us straight east and into Pottawatomie County. The route is mostly a matter of SE 44th one way and SE 59th the other way, with a detour out around the lake that drops us down to SE 74th for awhile. Today we are going counterclockwise which means heading down Henney Road from the trailer park, then starting our long eastward trek on SE 59th to Dobbs Road, where we turn south to SE 74th. This runs us just south of the little town of Newalla. Normally we would run down the south side of the reservoir to McLoud Road, but today we will try to add an extra three or four miles out on the end to catch a glimpse of Dale Bottom in the North Canadian Valley from a landmark ridge that rises above it on the west side. Then we’ll come back a long hard ride on SE 44th until we return to Henney Road.

At least, that was the plan. It didn’t quite come out like that.

It’s an easy run down Henney Road two miles south to SE 59th, but it drops off to a very picturesque valley that feeds into Hog Creek, a major water course that in turn feeds Lake Thunderbird. We’ll be seeing that one in a later journey, but today we see that Henney dead ends at SE59th and climbs steeply off to our left, westbound.

It’s a brutal climb as we can see looking back (the far horizon runs up over Interstate 40 near Hiwasee Road). The next hill is also brutal, and the next. Three in a row, after which it gets much easier for awhile. Not flat by any means, but the hills are lower and less steep all the way out the Dobbs Road, where we turn south to SE 74th. It’s just another mile to Harrah Road but you can tell that we are near the lake by the increased dampness in the air. Cross Harrah Road and you will catch glimpses of the swamps on the high end of the lake.

Looking back over Choctaw Road at the first hill. It’s the same from both sides.

Wes Watkins Reservoir lies mostly east and west, feeding from the west and dammed on the east end. The original water course is called Deer Creek, and the name appears in reference to the area. The road is humpy, though not brutal, all along both sides where the east-west roads cross numerous feeder streams. Lots of old money here, too. None of it picture-worthy, but really nice homes and virtually none of them in the MacMansion style. There were a few partial washouts where the traffic is diverted from the edge down to one lane, but this is a new road surface with a good asphalt covering.

If you turn left at McLoud Road and head north to come back on SE 44th from there, it’s just about 30 miles for that loop. I decided to explore a bit this time. Crossing McLoud Road we drop down slowly to the North Canadian Valley. SE 74th becomes WesTech Road here, and is gravel for a mile, a washboard in some places. Not easy on my mountain bike, I suspect you’d have to be nuts to do it on a road bike. The large gravel size would be dangerous by itself. I crossed a sheltered narrow arm of the valley that runs parallel quite a ways north. Upon hitting the North Canadian Valley proper, it’s flat for a long ways.

Just a bit south is Firelake Grand Casino on I-40, owned by the Potawatomie Nation (they spell it with one “t”). Oklahoma government complained that the lack of state taxes made it too competitive so the tribe simply charges their own tax and feeds it back into lots of giveaways. This facility has a huge fuel station that is popular with truckers for obvious reasons, plus a host of other amenities that you and I can’t afford.

The infamous Dale Bottom highway is a three-mile stretch that descends only slightly from McLoud and parallels the North Canadian River. This used to be State Highway 3, one of the earliest paved routes that ran from somewhere in the Panhandle all the way down to the southeast part of the state. So you can imagine that this was a popular illegal raceway from well before I was born. The sign on our road back west says Garret’s Lake Road, but the maps vary with other names. It’s not too much of a climb back into some old money homes. We turn right on Blackberry Drive, which seems to have been asphalted at one time, but mostly dirt now.

It passes a fairly famous combat pistol range quite popular with folks seeking the concealed carry permit, but nothing I could capture with the camera. The facility out back sits on the crest of the rise about Dale Bottom but is concealed by trees. Next door to that I encountered a woman digging at the edge of her driveway. The recent heavy rains really tore this road up, and her paying someone to drag a boxblade across it didn’t help much. We chatted awhile and then I rode on down. Technically the road is closed, but passable on my bike. I wouldn’t drive any motor vehicles without a high clearance there, as the repairs are quite preliminary — big rocks were dumped but not graded out.

Eventually we turn back west on SE 44th. My bike bogged down frequently in loose sand during the first half-mile climbing back toward McLoud Road. Some of the edges were washed out, but it appears the local flooding mostly washed slowly down the road itself, leaving large stretches of sand.

SE 44th is all sliced up. It was washed out between McLoud Road and Arena Road, requiring a detour of just about a mile by heading north to Seikel Boulevard and passing in front of the newly built McLoud High School. That wasn’t too bad, and it took me past a copy of the new trend in “Cowboy Churches”. This has gotten very popular, a sort of rural answer to the monster urban entertainment “worship centers.” As you might expect, you can show up in your agrarian work clothes and have a good time in the Lord, they say. There are several of them scattered across my favorite cycling loops, affiliated with the likes of Baptists, Methodists, and some I’m not too sure about.

So while I could still get to the lake, it’s usually not worth it. You have drop south a mile off SE 44th. The City of McLoud used to charge for entrance, but it’s free now. There is a substantial number of picnic tables and a couple of pavilions, and you can swim, but it’s by no means remarkable. If you run low on drinking water, you can refill all your containers there for free. It wasn’t worth the diversion today. Just a mile down the road was another washout. Since the detour would have added two miles, running all the way north back to SE 29th, I decided to skip it and just roll on home. Our trailer park fronts on SE 29th, anyway.

However, this used to be State Highway 3 (continuing from Dale Bottom east of McLoud). It remains very busy and the whole point is avoiding high traffic areas. The only real advantage is that is still well maintained and was better engineered — no washouts and the hills are much gentler. Twice I passed signs indicating there was yet another detour off of SE 44th; that poor road took a beating in the heavy rains.

By the time I rolled into the trailer park gate, it was 4.5 hours and about 38 miles (61 km), and the temperature was a muggy 85°F (29.4C) and climbing.