Black Mesa
Oklahoma
March 2013
We sit on the sturdy stone bench several feet from the native granite obelisk, the marker indicating that this is the highest land point in the state of Oklahoma. How thoughtful of the Boy Scouts to have built this comfortable sitting area, this bench. It’s lunch time and the air is clear and warm, very high-pointish. We dig into our sandwiches.
I notice on my maps and in my research that 99 miles to the east as the crow flies, or 119 miles as the crow drives, is something called Hooker. Hooker, Oklahoma is a city less than an hour from Beaver. That makes me titter like a teenager. We could get to Hooker in a little over two hours. I express my desire to visit. Lisa, who is much more mature than I am, doesn’t care to make that trip She says no.
Actually, what she says is, “No. And what’s wrong with you!”
I later discover that, contrary to the mental picture conjured in my adolescent imagination, Hooker is a fine little reputable urban area.
The name? In the 1800s, an excellent roper named John Threlkeld was given the nickname Hooker. Mr Threlkeld, or Hooker, could “ride quietly into a herd, drop a tight, small and fast loop from either side of his mount and catch calves standing beside their mothers.” In a leap of historical blindness, the town was named after this guy, Hooker.
But in defense of my juvenile side, you need to know this: In 1967 the Hooker American Legion baseball team became known as the Hooker Horny Toads. So there.
