Oklahoma Scavenger Hunt
To understand Oklahoma is to listen—first, to the wind. It moves across open prairies and jagged mesas, stirs dust in ghost towns and cornfields, and carries stories sung in Choctaw and Cherokee, in English and Osage, in fiddle tune and church hymn. This is a land shaped by movement: of migrating tribes, of cattle on the Chisholm Trail, of oil booms and Depression busts, and of Route 66 travelers chasing westward dreams. Here, the soil still remembers the dust that once darkened its skies and the water that windmills coaxed from its depths.
Oklahoma is a mosaic of many beginnings: from ancient mounds and military outposts to sleek glass towers and geodesic domes. Its capitol wears an oil derrick like a crown. Its tallest building rose a full century after statehood. And in between, the state raised cowboys and folk singers, astronauts and All-Americans. It’s a place where Black Wall Street rose and burned, where a New Deal seeded arenas and armories, and where resilience found form in bronze statues, rusted wind vanes, and quiet rows of empty chairs.
In these 100 destinations, you’ll glimpse Oklahoma’s character: brash and gritty, poetic and proud. You’ll walk from a sod schoolhouse to a steel skybridge, from the whispered sorrow of Washita to the thunderous cheer of a downtown arena. No one story defines this state, but each clue you follow will carry a spark of it.
The photos and stories collected here are a fast and fun way to learn the explanations behind the quirks, the traditions and the secrets that make Oklahoma uniquely Oklahoma. Why did Phillips 66 gas stations look like English Tudor cottages? Solved. How did Charles Colcord’s hunting dogs help him build Oklahoma’s tallest skyscraper? A mystery no more. Where did miners in Oklahoma’s Gold Rush go to shop? Identified. Where was the last surrender of Confederate troops in the Civil War? Revealed. Why was Route 66 in Afton built only nine feet wide? No one knows.
He sang of the Dust Bowl, injustice, and pain, With verses that rattled like wind on the plain. Where do his ballads and papers reside, Now shelved near the archive of Dylan's own stride?
Long before statehood or white men had come, A culture of mounds grew grand in the sun. Shells from the Gulf and fine beads in the clay— These hills held the secrets of a people’s way. Their traders and priests left no written reply, Just silent earthworks where old spirits lie.
With gilded allure and a Spanish facade, Poncan's grand arches still earn a nod. A Boller-built gem for dreams on the screen, With painted lobby art once lost in between. Now lovingly lit and opulently redone, It hosts stars and echoes the silver screen's fun.
Waite Phillips struck oil, then riches amassed, Then built this grand Gothic to make the wealth last. Its Deco details and golden crown high, Mark Tulsa’s ambition against a blue sky. Inside, his suite on the twentieth floor— Still waits like he left it, in legend and lore.
He blasted from both sides, with pinstripe-clad pride, The Commerce Comet could switch-hit or slide. Where does a statue of Mickey stand tall, Near the high school field that once saw his first ball?
A bottle on top of a building so tight, It stood in the fork of a three-way bite. From trolley stop corner to dairyland claim, Its milk bottle roof brought mimetic fame. Though tiny in size, it's tall in renown— A Route 66 legend in bottle-topped crown.