This turned into an archetypal Route 66 day. 

We start the day with severe storm warnings that thankfully reduced to a rain warning which, thankfully again, reduced to a drizzle. To prevent any backtracking, I wore every piece of water repellant clothing I have. It worked, and Joyce and I had just a sprinkle. 

Then something interesting happened. 

A driver invested great effort to cross a divided highway to tell us not to miss Sam’s Town ahead. I was intrigued but also skeptical – a tough facial expression for the eyebrows – and decided that I wouldn’t go out of my way, but if I saw it … . It turns out that Sam’s Town found us. I’m assuming that the driver alerted Sam’s Town’s Sam that we were coming, as we were greeted on the road by a big man dressed in comical prison garb and placing a bag of pecans into my hands.  Sam Hagen explained to us that he built a cyclists refuge for travelers that might be passing by.  Free lodgings, showers, laundry, whatever they might need.  The presentation is a little busy and shantytown-esque, but he had an explanation, and it was a good one.  The entire grounds, all of the buildings, all of the fixtures, were found or reclaimed objects. Sam would collect any useful or interesting discarded items – a windmill, a set of tetter-totters that he had used as a child in a local park, sheet metal fencing, and, perhaps the most ambitious, a complete one room school house that he relocated to his property. Other structures were built out of timber from local trees, or other found artifacts. 

I’ll be honest, my guard was up as Sam showed us around the grounds and led us through each structure.  I was looking for doors that might swing shut, or lashings fixed to walls,  or any unexplained pits.  Instead, a picture developed of a kind man who wanted to do something extraordinary, be helpful to others, and stay within his means.  And now we have Sam’s Town.  If you find yourself in Erick, Oklahoma (near the border with Texas), do yourself a favour and enjoy a type of sincerity, ingenuity and kindness that you don’t see much of anymore, except, perhaps, on Route 66.