Bricktown Canal

I decided to try running my wheelchair along the Bricktown Canal. These are the pictures. First is the entrance down near the southern end of the canal. I rolled up the ramp from the parking lot, then turned back to shoot across the parking lot. I can tell you that whoever designed the wheelchair accommodations never used one. Still, it was mostly adequate in the southern half of the canal.

The southern end is quite nicely landscaped, but the slopes were rough on my cheap wheelchair. Still, the stuff looks pretty nice, and there’s plenty of shade from the heat of Oklahoma’s summer. By the way, the canal is only a few feet deep.

Down at this end, the canal is dominated by the Oklahoma Land Run monument. It gives the appearance of running across the canal like it was just a shallow stream. The statues run in a wavy line all around this part of the park.

This southern half of the canal features almost all new buildings that replaced some structures that were unsafe or otherwise unusable as part of a tourist attraction, along with the interstate highway that once ran through here (it’s been rerouted since). The idea to capitalize on the nostalgic aspect dominates the northern half of the canal. So here we have the national headquarters of the Sonic Drive-in restaurant chain. It’s a bunch of little drive-in fast food places all over most of the US. There is a working restaurant on the opposite side of this thing.

There is a canal taxi system with yacking tour guides. This is about the half-way point, where the canal runs under Reno Avenue. After passing a large number of newer buildings (including Toby Keith’s big place) with lots of decent wheelchair access, the shaded passage under Reno begins the section of relatively ancient buildings, all from before WW2. The wheelchair accommodations disappear, because those buildings stood long before such access was fashionable or mandated by law.

The sidewalk turns to laid bricks, and they aren’t kept smooth. It’s humpy and bumpy, and rather narrow. The canal is one floor down from street level in this section. The restaurants here are more expensive, and accessible only when they have room for tables on the sidewalk level. There was one little wheelchair lift up to a single restaurant’s platform. There were a few doors down at the sidewalk level, but I couldn’t see inside to discern how much trouble I’d have. But then, I could never afford those places anyway. This shot shows one of the water circulation pools that keep the canal from stagnating and stinking. It makes a hard left turn at this point.

Following the canal to its far end, it stops at the infrastructure for the rail line that passes through the old city center (running north-south). There’s lots of nice artwork here, and it’s the only wheelchair ramps, which run off to the north (right side of the image) in a long sloping series. I didn’t try to get to the other side of the canal here, but I know it’s pretty tricky, since the only way back down on the other side is an elevator inside of a building with a lower-level restaurant on the canal sidewalk.

This far end of the canal spreads out a little, with an arm that runs back south a short way for some more artwork. It also allows the canal taxis to turn around. While some of this is tiled or painted permanently, a few places I noticed had shrink-wrapped plastic prints, glued to the old brickwork. This is a nice place to hang out, but it’s out in the open sun. I’ve seen it packed with tourists nonetheless.

On my way back, at the hard corner where the canal taxis take on passengers, I spotted this miniature golf course, really tiny. There were some carnival rides scattered along this section, but nothing easy to line up with a camera. There was very little activity during my visit.

Farther back toward the end where I started stands this Native American monument on the far side. It’s a little ironic, standing so close to the Land Run monument. The Land Run was to parcel out real estate left over once the tribes were forced to surrender their tribal holdings. That was a sad chapter in Oklahoma History.