Lawns needed to be mowed, dogs were lonesome, wives and husbands were waiting and everyone was out of clean underwear. People scattered for home like loose ping-pong balls in the wind. The sag vehicles headed to dump the luggage where it could be claimed. The 2001 Oklahoma Bicycle Society Grand Plan B Tour was over. Now all is left is the after-tour party to swap photos and stories.

When handed a lemon, go to Plan B and make lemonade out of it.

This turned out to be a great route for a tour, about 260 miles in five days and all on paved roads without excessive amounts of traffic. It lends itself to a self-contained camping or B&B credit card tour. There are enough activities to keep non-riders entertained and enough challenging riding to satisfy most riders. It would make an excellent tour for individuals or small groups who want to explore some of Oklahoma's little known history.

Strange Tales from the OBS Plan B Tour

Some of the best tour tales come after it's over when people think they are more or less safe in admitting things. But fear not, big ears are always listening and these are some of the strange happenings that have come my way.

When everyone was out of Stillwater, I drove ahead to set up a water stop at about the 10 mile point. When the riders rolled in, I could offer them water, pop, cookies or a toke. There was a large plot of wild marijuana growing beside the highway where I stopped.

Message from Fred Kamp -- A report on the great tire lever escapade:

As you recall we were riding from Stillwater to Guthrie Saturday, the day you took station in Mulhall (later the scene of a famous bank robbery). As we neared the intersection of Highways 51 and 77, Joe and Karen had pulled ahead and I was riding with Ron. Unknown to us, we were approaching the first of a series of corrugated sections in the pavement designed to warn motorists that they were nearing an intersection. We were going slightly down hill at about 15 mph and I was behind Ron in echelon to his left so that I couldn't see the section. I hit it all unprepared and began a wild ride that took me at an angle towards the grass shoulder, down the ditch wall and then along the grassy bottom of the ditch. I don't know whether the grass stopped me or I finally got on the brakes. After I stopped and calmed down I picked up the bike and headed up the hill towards the road. At that point the front tire blew with a loud report.

I began getting tire levers (good thin metal ones like you can no longer find) and a spare tube ready when Ron seized control and continued the repair operation. The tire appeared OK and I "aired" it up with a CO2 cartridge and we resumed our journey another 6 miles to the water station in Mulhall.

I was using your gauged pump to top off the tire pressure when again it blew again with a loud report. At that point quite a repair committee gathered and we found a break in the tire sidewall. We unsuccessfully (split infinitive) tried one boot furnished by Joe and then you supplemented it with a heavier boot fashioned from baser roadside elements (a plastic oil bottle) which lasted the remaining 16 miles into Guthrie and the 20-mile rides Monday and Tuesday. It might have lasted forever, but I replaced the tire after the Tuesday ride.

But getting back to my good tire levers. During the festivities in Mulhall, I found that 2 were missing, evidently lost back at the scene of my exciting ride. I determined that I would return and find them at some time.

The next day, Sunday, we left the Tour (as planned) so that we could go up to Ponca City to attend the christening of a grandniece. Since we went close to the scene of the crime, we detoured and conducted a search. I quickly found one lever but couldn't find the other (the grass was about 6-8 in. deep). We resumed our journey and went on to Ponca City. Before going to the church I bought a rake. After all of the family doings, we left for home about 4:00 pm. Once again we detoured to the accident site. There, dressed in our Sunday clothes, we began a methodical raking of the area, while streams of startled motorists passed by. After about 20 minutes we found the other lever. And now I once again have my full complement of "good" tire levers. [Wonder what passers by thought of a man dressed in his church clothes raking the grass at the side of the road??]

From Moni -- why she missed the Ingalls story telling.

I sucked wheel all the way to Stillwater, where the group was stopped at Curley's. Most of the riders had sagged to this point, as we were supposed to have a story teller at 1:00 PM in Ingalls, and the time would have been tight for them.

I ventured across the street for Chinese buffet, and rode by myself after lunch. Got kinda tired... and found a GREAT spot in a driveway, with a BIG tree for shade, for a nap. Parked my bike near the road, and stretched out in the driveway.

Upon awakening, I was not to sure anymore about the time for the story teller, and put my head down and moved down the road. Must have been road watching, as I managed to miss the sign for Ingalls. Realized it when I turned north on highway 18.

When Gary Cannon pulled into the water stop 12 miles south of Pawnee, he asked, "Do you know how to make a dead goat float?" When I admitted that I had no idea how to make a goat float, he said, "Half a glass of Coca Cola and two scoops of dead goat." I concluded that he was having a moment of delirium from the heat.

Speaking of strange things, while we were loading luggage in Guthrie on the last day, I spotted a bag with a canoe paddle strapped to it.

John Wente wrote: The only thing that I recall as being out of the ordinary was on the day from Pawnee to Stillwater, Gary and I stopped at an intersection to let the others riding with us catch up. Just as we stopped, Gary spotted a doe down the side road. I didn't see it, but a few seconds later it came back out of the trees and just stared at us until the others arrived, then it ducked into the trees again. Guess it was wondering what manner of strange beasts we were.

This lady on the tour who shall remain nameless had a flat and while we were looking at her tube, I mentioned that it was a snakebite flat. She started dancing around and yelled, "Oh my God, you mean a snake got that close to me!"