My month in Arkansas

My take on Arkansas

where I went this month

Arkansas's land
Arkansas - The Natural State.

They chose their state nickname well.  Nature is almost entirely what this state is about.  Diamonds and mountains and national rivers and Mississippi Delta lands.  Forests and farmland and pasturage.  Hot springs and Mammoth Spring.  It's a beautiful state and, except for a lack of ocean access, has just about everything Nature could give.

You can see I tried hard to get around the state, and the only glaring hole is in the central west, where the Ouachita Mountains are.  I skirted them, but I wanted to see more and just ran out of time and energy.  Otherwise, I pretty much covered the various landforms and districts, so I know whereof I speak when I say it's beautiful here.


Arkansas's people
The people here seem to be much like the land they live on.  They're resilient and self-reliant.  They're almost all happy - actually happy - with where they're living.  The most usual reason I got is that they like their neighbors, think they live near great people.  Although I got a few saying what they liked best is their surroundings - the trees and mountains, how green everything is.

They're mostly friendly, though usually in a slightly reserved way - not volunteering much but happy to respond to requests for help.  From what they've told me, I think their reserve is entirely for strangers and that they're not at all reserved with their neighbors.

They're proud of their state and are quick to point out to me any natural wonders they think I shouldn't miss.

But the dark side of that is embodied in the history of Central High School.  Yes, it was long ago, but I saw plenty of reasons to believe the Southerner's Lost Cause hasn't completely died here.  Few Confederate flags, but there were still a few.

Arkansas is a very religious state, with only 14% saying they're non-religious.  I'm not convinced that translates into what I think of as Christian charity for those who aren't WASPs, because Arkansas seems so conservative.  It was a 2-party state, though, not all that long ago when Bill Clinton was governor and easily carried the state in his bid for president, so it might well swing back again in time.  Right now there are large pockets that are intolerant politically, which means to me they're also intolerant socially.

A mixed bag, I guess, is what the people here are about.  And I suppose there's nothing wrong with that.

This is the month that the coronavirus shoved itself into the nation's consciousness, and my posts reflect the changing climate.  From the state park ranger early in the month who thought the reports on the virus were overblown, through the gradual closing of public facilities, and on to empty grocery shelves and the folks who seemed to think "social distancing" didn't apply to them.

Frankly, I find those last to be more scary than anything else - people who don't think anyone needs to keep a distance from them and thoughtlessly invade farther than a 6' area around me.  They seem like the kind to be most likely to carry the virus, than those who are trying hard to avoid it.

And that certainly includes all those pious folks who go to church on Sundays in large groups, apparently believing worshiping God in public means God will protect them.  In fact, some seem to believe whatever happens is God's will and the government's just trying to confuse us.  Arkansas is, after all, squarely in the Bible Belt.  Fortunately, I also saw quite a few instances of churches who knew reality when they saw it and were following all the CDC's guidelines literally, not as they chose to interpret them (there were some of those, too).


Driving in Arkansas
I well remember when I was a kid that Arkansas had terrible roads.  In those days Texas had some of the best roads in the country.  I'm not at all sure Texas still has good roads - it's been 2 years since I've been there - but I can say that Arkansas's roads are really good.  I don't know where they got the money, though maybe from their state income tax, but they've obviously made an investment in their transportation system.

Most of the drivers here are reasonably polite, are sensible enough to pass me when I slow down and move over for them to do so, and don't tailgate.  I found some exceptions, of course, but even though I spent most of the month on back roads, I still found it comfortable to drive here, which is something I never expected.


What I didn't see that I wanted to see
Thanks to this virus, as the month went on I began to miss more and more places I'd hoped to see.  Even outdoor places like Mount Magazine, the state's highest point, scared me because I figured lots more folks would go there, thinking they're safe outdoors (even in a crowd).  And of course all the indoor museums and things began to close.  I listed most of what I wanted to see in the individual posts.  In addition to those are a few other places:
  - Stuttgart Agricultural Museum - Stuttgart bills itself as "the duck and rice capital of the world";
  - Arkansas State Museum;
  - Toad Suck State Park - just because of the name;
  - the Arkansas & Missouri Railroad makes a round trip between Winslow and Springdale; I'd expect the scenery to be lovely on that route, and I love train rides;
  - War Eagle Mill is a working grist mill in the mountains southeast of Eureka Springs, operating since 1832 but closed now due to the virus.

I would have been able to see more if I'd had better luck picking up a wifi signal in more of the state.  Not having that ability left me with massive numbers of posts to catch up on, meaning I needed to spend more time sitting in a campground just to make up for that lack.  But I guess that's what rural America deals with.


My conclusion
I liked Arkansas a lot.  I found the countryside comfortable to be in and beautiful to look at, and found the people to be pleasant and helpful.  There was something, though, that I can't quite put my finger on about the people - something about the slight reserve I felt in them.  In a way a little clannish like Kentucky seemed.  Nothing wrong with that at all, but not as welcoming as I'd hope for and found in other states.

But for a place to come back to and relax and enjoy Nature, it'd be hard to beat Arkansas.

Arkansas - Days 29 - 31

Harrison Village RV Park
Sunday, 29 and Monday, 30 and Tuesday, 31 March 2020

I spent these last 3 days of the month in the campground, trying to finish up the blog posts and do chores before starting a new state.  Things like laundry, shower, changing the sheets on my bed, shuffling around the notebooks I have for each state, figuring out where I'll be staying the first night or two in Missouri and how to get there - like that.

When I was working on plans for Missouri, I learned that they've closed all their state campgrounds.  Most cities have also closed their recycling facilities, which means I'm going to have to start storing stuff in the basement again.  That's such a nuisance, but the alternative (throwing stuff in the trash) is worse, to me.  At least at this point.  I may feel differently in a month or so.

Anna called me on Saturday to be sure I was all right.  She told me about the severe tornado that had hit Jonesboro the day before, which I hadn't heard of.  After she called, I looked online at the weather and news videos.  It went through right where I'd been just a few days ago.  I can't believe I was so lucky and am very glad to hear no one was seriously hurt, though what a shame about their property.

Sunday was sunny and warm, except for a fairly constant wind.

I succumbed - yesterday I saw a pizza being delivered to another camper.  I've seen that done before but always assumed it'd cost too much.  This time I went for it and got a small thin crust pepperoni.  It was really good, and I tipped the driver heavily in recognition of the hazards he's running.

And here I am, late Tuesday afternoon, very tired from having gotten so much done today.  The dogs are relentless, wanting to go for walks every time I enter or leave the RV.  I've taken them out 3 times already today, but I know they get bored senseless staying inside all the time.  I wish I could put them outside on long leashes like I used to, but Dexter's already broken 2 of them and I just don't have the energy to try again.  Maybe this summer I'll be able to find a leash he's less likely to break and we can go for it.  But in the meantime, they're stuck inside these 4 close walls unless I take them out.  A real shame.

I'm not sure I ever posted a photo of the Arkansas state license plate, so just in case I didn't, here it is.

There are specialty plates, of course, but this is what I see most on all vehicles.

Arkansas - Day 28 - Little Rock and points northwest

Harrison Village RV Park, Harrison
Saturday, 28 March 2020

route in Little Rock

today's highway route

Sightseeing in Little Rock
I heard an interview on the radio with a man who owned a restaurant, talking about the agonizing decisions he was having to make trying to be able to afford to continue paying his staff while not being able to open his restaurant.  He'd finally let his customers know he was open for take-out only and offering family meals at 50% off.  He asked folks to consider using some of the savings by adding a tip for his workers.  He said he was gratified when his business started picking back up, and he was able to keep his staff employed, but more importantly he was stunned by the size of tips people were leaving.  He said one person even left $500 at each of his 3 restaurants for the workers.  He said, "We bet on our community and we won."

I passed Philander Smith College and was curious about the name.  I know the word "philanderer" as someone who reneges on their marriage vows, though I don't remember it being used as a verb.  But this school was named in memory of a person Philander Smith, who died in the 1800s when names like that were more common than they are now.  It's a historically black college and, as far as I can tell online, they're still holding classes despite having cancelled graduation and closed the dormitories.  They claim they're taking all reasonable precautions by providing additional hand sanitizing stations around campus.  If this is true, to me it doesn't speak well about the level of common sense of the administrators here.

Little Rock Central High School National Monument
I found 3 explanatory signs outside the museum run by the National Park Service.  I'm posting those signs in pieces to make it easier to read them.

Here's the Cliffs Notes version of events: In 1957, Arkansas (like many Southern states) was still refusing to integrate its schools, in defiance of Brown v. Board of Education.  Little Rock authorities wanted to do it gradually.  Local activist Daisy Bates thought that wasn't good enough and convinced a group of 9 black students to try to integrate Central High School.

Ark. governor Orval Faubus used the Ark. National Guard to stop them.  Pres. Eisenhower called in the famed 101st Airborne Division, who escorted the kids into school and patrolled the halls to protect them.

the quote reads: "Any time it takes 11,500 soldiers
 to assure nine Negro children their constitutional rights
in a democratic society, I can't be happy."
Daisy L. Gatson Bates

The Little Rock Nine - note that, though they're just kids,
they have courage well beyond what most adults will ever know

In 1958, Little Rock voted to close public schools
rather than integrate them, and then blamed the closures
on the federal government

Central High School today

This school is gigantic, by the way.  That building extends a long way behind and beside what you can see in my photo.  Ten years ago, it had more than 2,400 students - larger than most towns in Arkansas.

detail from the front of the school

As I was walking the dogs around the museum up the street from the school, a park ranger came out while Gracie was rolling around in the shrubbery.  Instead of yelling at her, as I expected, he said she looked like she was having a good time.  He told me the museum would open in half an hour, which certainly surprised me, but I'm not really comfortable being in enclosed places with strangers these days, and anyway the signs had given me as much information as I wanted.

There's also a memorial across the street that we walked around a bit.

More Little Rock sights
About a mile from the school is the State Capitol.  I got lucky and came the day after the legislature had adjourned from its special session, so there was no traffic and no parked cars.  Made it easy for me to get a photo.

This building is notable for being an exact 3/4-size replica of the US Capitol building.  It was built around the turn of the 20th century using prison labor.  You can see a piece of my RV in the photo - though I got out and took several others from different vantage points, this seemed the best of the batch.

A couple of miles from the Capitol is the Clinton Presidential Library.

It was built at the beginning of the 21st century and seems to me to exude drabness, rather than presidential grandeur.  I think the design is cantilevered, though, and intended to project a forward-thinking appearance.  Maybe I just need to take an architectural appreciation class.

I heard on the radio about the death of the Rev. Joseph Lowery, Civil Rights icon from an older generation.  NPR recalled part of the benediction he delivered at Barack Obama's inauguration:

Lord, ... help us to work for that day when black will not be asked to get back, when brown can stick around, when yellow will be mellow, when the red man can get ahead, man, and when white will embrace what is right.

You have to smile at this, as the new president and most of the audience did, but of course those on the far right didn't see the humor - or anything else good about either his prayer or, probably, about the inauguration itself.  What a shame.

On down the road
The City of Little Rock has several locations for recycling drop-off, including one in the town of Maumelle to the northwest.  That location said online that it was one of the few open on a Saturday and that it was still open despite the current restrictions.  So we drove out there and sat outside the gate waiting for it to open.  Waited in vain, as it turned out.  We waited 20 minutes after the opening time, and I finally decided maybe they were no longer keeping Saturday hours or maybe they curtailed them.  Anyway, I put most of my recyclables in a plastic trash bag, wrote "Recycling" in several places on the bag, and left it beside the gate.  I'd never have done it except the radio had just this morning listed off a couple of the recycling locations that had been closed, and this wasn't one of them.  I hope it turned out okay.

While we were waiting, I noticed a beaver lodge in a pond not too far away and thought that was nice.  I hope that means this facility is being operated in an environmentally responsible manner.

I saw wisterias that had climbed trees and were 2 stories tall.  Really beautiful.

Back on the road, I saw cows and horses in various fields we passed.

I confess I'd never heard of Hungry Hungry Hippos until I heard a radio item about a nursing home that was in virus-imposed isolation, so to keep up morale the staff instituted a life-sized version of the game using residents in wheelchairs as the hungry hippos.  I imagine everybody had a blast. 

Many smaller towns along this road: Mayflower, Pickles Gap, Twin Groves, Damascus.  Also some larger ones, with Conway, pop. 58,908, topping them all.

Actually, I think this road is one of the most scenic I've been on in Arkansas, which is saying something.  Occasionally I get a view of mountain valleys with fields down below and streams running nearby.  I see many hills in the area, many curves in the road, which goes up and down hills regularly.  Cows graze in fields on mountainsides and down in the valleys below, looking as if they fell off the mountain where they had been grazing and just took up where they left off.  I saw green crop fields and yellow ones.

March in Arkansas is a purple month - there are purple flowers everywhere of all kinds - wild flowers and weeds and cultivated plants.  It's just lovely.

My trouble today is that I got very little sleep last night (or the night before, for that matter) and I'm finding it almost impossible to stay awake.  There are no rest areas along this road, no shoulders, and the towns are too tiny to provide anywhere for me to pull over and try to wake up.  This turned out to be especially dangerous when I found myself on a 7% grade, with advisory signs for trucks to use lower gears, and with a runaway truck ramp.  It wasn't just a steep downhill road but also had many curves.  I had to focus all my attention on staying awake so we wouldn't fly off the mountain at a curve.

I'm pretty sure we're going through the Ozark Mountains here; I've been feeling for quite a few miles as if we were climbing, which turns out to be accurate.  Little Rock's elevation is 335' and Harrison's is 1,040'.  So yeah, we've been climbing.

In the middle of nowhere, I found a gas station - national brand - selling regular for $1.19 for cash customers.  So of course I stopped.  Cheap gas is the one bright spot in the news these days.

I passed the tiny town of St. Joe - Heart of the Ozarks Since 1904.

I saw a couple of homemade signs for Generator George, who "sells peace of mind, not just generators."

I passed a business called Anything In Stained Glass.

And I had a wonderful view of the Ozark Mountains which, of course, I was in.

In the town of Western Grove, pop. 384, I saw 2 churches nearly across the road from each other, one with a sign that said "Pray for our Nation" and the other with a sign that said "Pray for our Country."  I hope they're both referring to the virus and not some other threat they perceive.

And so to this campground, just south of the town of Harrison, where I've stayed before.  I couldn't get the same campsite I had before and it took me some time to find another that was mostly level and in a location I thought would be fairly easy for the dogs.  When I mentioned to the campground owner that I'd still like my old slot if the folks left early, he told me they'd come up here from Little Rock to try to keep the wife safe from the virus. 

Her husband says she's got a long string of serious illnesses and absolutely cannot get that virus.  I think they came up here as soon as it became known the virus had started showing up in Little Rock.  The owner says she never leaves the camper they've got, which is even smaller than mine.  The husband sits outside from time to time, but they have a wheelchair for her and even if she felt safe coming out, which she doesn't, this campground has no paved roads - they're all gravel.  Not a good surface for a wheelchair.  Makes you realize how very lucky you can be and not know it.  I hope she manages to stay safe.

Arkansas - Days 25-27 - North Little Rock

Downtown Riverside RV Park
Wednesday, 25 and Thursday, 26 and Friday, 27 March 2020

my route on Thursday

We had a variety of weather while I was here, but the wind never stopped blowing.  It reminded me often of being at the coast.  The wind here felt just the same strength as the wind at the seashore does.

Wednesday was sunny and warm - like up in the low 80s warm.  By Friday it was still warm but I couldn't feel it because the wind seemed to suck out the warmth and it was overcast most of the day so we couldn't get direct sun.  I'd heard that a severe storm system was moving eastward from the Plains states, and that Oklahoma had gotten softball-size hail.  I got lucky and didn't get weather anything that bad.

This campground sits directly on the north shore of the Arkansas River, which is obviously carrying a LOT of water southeast.  It's very near Riverfront Park, where there's a submarine that can be toured and a sculpture for peace and hope.

Beacon of Peace and Hope

the irony is that the mural (background) is really
(though likely unconsciously) racist; it's an old mural
but was refurbished as recently as 2001

Riverside Park is part of the Arkansas River Trail, which is a 14-mile loop along the river in North Little Rock, across the river on a pedestrian bridge, along the river in Little Rock, and back across the river on a different pedestrian bridge.  The cities have repurposed old railroad bridges into pedestrian bridges and now boast of being the only place in the country with 4 of them.

The one that goes directly to the Clinton Presidential Library from North Little Rock was immediately next to our campground, so I saw that it was lit with colored lights at night.

the bridge in the daytime

the bridge at dawn

I waited too late to take the photo at right and the daylight was already happening.  Those green lights alternate intermittently with purple lights and the colors can be intense during the darkness.

I determined to get a photo while it was still dark, only to learn on Saturday morning that the lights were occasionally red.  They'd been green for the previous 3 nights we'd been there, but I guess weekends are special.

I wanted to walk the dogs along at least part of the trail but was afraid to.  The first time I took them out of the RV park for a walk along the river, a jogger ran by with her dog, and shortly I saw them going across the bridge.  After that I was sure with my luck we'd meet one or more dogs if we tried it and end up with a mess.  My poor dogs have no idea how many wonderful things they aren't getting to do because of their personalities.  It's really frustrating and really sad.

Not that there weren't lots of dogs in the RV park, too.  But the other owners weren't any more interested than I was in engineering a meeting, so we all managed to stay apart.

Between the RV park and Riverside Park is a quarter-mile-long area that's not developed - it's almost a mess, in fact - but lots of locals go there to fish in the river or just sit in their cars and watch the river flow by.  So we mostly walked along that area, while I tried to keep Dexter from eating poop from the resident Canada Geese. 

Speaking of Canadians, my first night here the campground was completely filled with a large group of Canadians.  They were part of a group of RVers who'd been traveling in the US and caught by the coronavirus problem.  They told me they'd been ordered to go back to Canada (though I wasn't sure if it was the US or Canada doing the ordering).  They seemed to be just fine with going back, though, since Canada started taking reasonable precautions long before the US did, and since Canada's got a better health care system for this sort of thing.  They were all gone by 10:00 the next morning.  Wonder how much trouble they'll have at the border.

This was a weird campground in several ways.  There were a few small grassy areas at one end and between the campsites and the river.  Otherwise it was all concrete and gravel.  I would have appreciated it more in a heavy rain (no mud) than in the bright sunshine.  There was a constant high level of noise from the bridge taking I-30 across the river.  It was just a few blocks from the RV park.

This photo shows the one grassy area in the campground, the I-30 bridge, and the Little Rock skyline.  You can see how close the bridge is.

The campground had no picnic tables and no fire rings.  All the electrical outlets were 50 amp and I was very thankful I already had an adapter for my 30 amp RV.  There was a metal security fence surrounding the campground everywhere except along the river.  Since that hiking trail wrapped around it, I can understand the need for security, but it still felt prison-like, what with all that concrete and all.

And then I discovered the reason their shower rooms had a closed sign on them.  I'd thought maybe they were closed for cleaning or for a plumbing problem, but when they stayed that way for a couple of days I finally called the office (the only way to contact them since their door stayed locked due to the virus) and asked.  She said the owner had told her either close the bathrooms or close the campground.  When I pointed out that nobody had said anything to me about that at any point before I actually came there, she said well, everybody has a shower in their RV and we provide the water and the sewer connections so it shouldn't be a problem.  But my shower is nonfunctional because of housing Lily's litter box and I told her so (leaving out the bit about the box) and she offered to let me find some other place to go and give me a refund for my remaining time.  Instead, I negotiated a reduced rate for my remaining time there, which she didn't like but agreed to - well, I didn't like having so few of the amenities most campgrounds routinely provide either.

So I was left to cobble together cleanliness efforts - wash my hair in the kitchen sink, take a sponge bath in the bathroom - all in cold water because I turned my water heater off 2 years ago and didn't want to try turning it on now.  Good thing it was 80° outside.

And to top things off, I started seeing ants inside the RV.  First time since last fall.  This time, though, I took it seriously and tackled them from the get-go.  I had several boxes of ant traps I'd bought last fall but didn't use because they seemed to be hibernating, so I pulled them out and put them in all the places I'd put them last year.  And I cleaned all the surfaces in the kitchen more thoroughly than usual because I'd learned that ant think even a coffee ground is food.  And of course I killed every ant I saw.  I go out of my way to keep from hurting them outside, which I figured is their territory as much as mine.  But inside is a different story because it's my territory and I get to say who comes in and who doesn't.

Actually, that might not have been the topper, because on my last day or so here, I started getting surrounded by swarms of bugs that I decided must be termites.  Despite the constant wind, they seemed to like hanging around my RV - especially the doorway - and I had to be careful not to let them in when the dogs and I came back from a walk.  Now that I've looked them up, I'm thinking they might actually have been flying ants - which is almost worse.  It seems all ant colonies grow variant ants that, unlike the workers, have reproductive capability, and when the time is right to expand the colony, these variants sprout wings and fly off looking for a mate.  They congregate in swarms for protection.  Which is all interesting but doesn't make my life any more pleasant.  I still have that messed up screen door, and I tried to renew the tape holding the pieces of torn screen together, but the constant strong wind made it impossible.  I finally closed the door and turned on the AC.  A shame to waste that nice breeze.

Purple Martin

On a brighter note, the campground's put up several birdhouses, and it looks like a batch of Purple Martins have moved in to nest.  I was unsure of what they were because I couldn't see any purple on them at all, but the bird book says they just look purple in some kinds of light and are really black - which is what I was seeing.

House Finch

And once when I was out with the dogs I saw a sparrow-type bird that had a lot of red on its chest.  Something like in this internet photo.  It was perched pretty high up so I couldn't see it well, and I didn't see red on its head and did see more red on its chest, but I still think this is what I saw - a House Finch.  They nest in this part of the country.

And I saw a pair of Bluebirds out along the riverside, so I guess they're looking for a place to nest.  This is a nice time of year.

On Thursday we went out for a few hours of doing errands in North Little Rock.  I'd intended also to do some sightseeing in Little Rock but decided to hold off a day or two.  If I followed my original plan, I'd be spending all day running around from place to place and be really tired and not be able to spend any time at all on catching up my blog posts, which I was trying hard to do.  When I got here I was 10 days behind, thanks to so many days with no wifi signal.

So instead I went to a Kroger (surprisingly little choice in grocery stores in this populous area) and several liquor stores (terrible selection for some reason), stopping a couple of times at schools to walk the dogs.  I saw online that Arkansas had finally (this is Trump country, after all) closed all its schools so knew we could find parking lots to walk in without people around. 

At North Little Rock High School, the parking lot was edged by some kind of holly relative that was blooming,  The flowers were so tiny I could hardly see them, but I could smell them and so could the bees.  They were all over those plants, even to the point of mostly ignoring the equally sweet-smelling redbuds nearby.

I passed a redbud in one front yard that was covered in beautiful blooms.  It was also covered in Easter eggs that the family had hung from every branch.  There must have been 50 of them on this one smallish redbud.  It was really cheerful.

And the azaleas were blazing away, clashing with the redbuds for a riot of color.

Along one street I saw flashing yellow lights and a sign that said, "Speed Limit 30 MPH.  No Tolerance."  Never seen that one before, but it made me check my speed.

I saw 4 male Mallards and 1 female.  Two of the males started fighting each other while the other 2 kept walking after the female who was walking away.  It's that time of year.  But why weren't there more females around?

When I got back to the campground, I decided I'd wait until Saturday and drive around Little Rock then to see the places I wanted to see.  Of course, I'd wanted to go into the Clinton Presidential Library and the Museum for Little Rock Central High School, but both are closed for the virus so I didn't have to check their operating hours.  My drive back to Harrison is only a few hours, so I figured I'd just stay in the campground and try to finish as much of my blog posts as I could while I was on level ground and had a strong wifi signal.

Arkansas - Day 24 - to Gregory and Little Rock

Downtown Riverside RV Park, North Little Rock
Tuesday, 24 March 2020

Sadly for Gracie, we've had intermittent thunder since 3:30 AM and pouring rain.  Not much fun to drive in.

today's route

On the road
I heard on the radio that FEMA has established a website to deal with some of the myths about the coronavirus.  Good idea.

I heard an ad for a company called Tree Doctors - they don't cut down distressed trees but instead treat them.  Their motto: "We put the zap back in the sap."

Near the tiny town of Light, I saw a sign saying that was the future route of I-57.

The land is flat in all directions and I could see for miles if the visibility from clouds and rain were any better.  There's also a strong crosswind, making elevated bridges tricky to navigate in this high-profile vehicle.

These might be rice fields on both sides of the road, though all I can see is that most of them are quite flooded.

I heard on the radio that the areas where I spent the last couple of days - Black Rock, for instance - were under a severe thunderstorm alert from the Weather Service.  I guess I got out of there just in time.

I spent much of today's drive on US Route 67, which is the direct road from northeast Arkansas down to Little Rock.  But after the first 40 miles, I turned off first to State Route 17 (east) and then to State Route 33 (south), heading to the tiny town of Gregory.

There's a Tupelo (pop. 180) in Arkansas.

All the land I passed today was flat flat fields.

Near Augusta, I passed several signs that seemed to be advertising "New Quiet Cemetery."  I saw the signs on either end of an obviously long-established cemetery along the road, so I'm guessing some entrepreneur is selling plots in a new cemetery that will have the reverential atmosphere people seem to think is proper.

I heard a further warning by the National Weather Service of severe thunderstorms in different Arkansas counties than they mentioned in the previous alert.  They make it sound like a tornado warning, telling people to go to an interior room and to expect some roof and hail damage.  That sounds like more than a thunderstorm to me.

I passed a sign saying Delta King - The Soybean of the South.  Turns out it's a seed company that's been experimenting with producing better, more reliable products - especially soybeans.

I passed a white barn with a small sign on it that said, "Tamale Factory."  There were a few cars there - do you supposed it's been certified by health authorities?  I mean, it really was a barn.

Gregory

I was lucky and found the postmistress in the Gregory Post Office.  I told her Gregory was my maiden name (easier than the truth) and asked her to postmark a letter to my sister-in-law for me, which she was pleased to do.  And she said she was also happy to let me continue to park in her tiny parking lot for a bit while I walked the dogs and fed us all lunch.  Very nice lady.

This photo (above) is of the Gregory Store, which looks pretty closed to me, with the post office and my RV beyond it.  You can see how gloomy the weather was, still raining or at least drizzling most of the time.

Gregory Gin Co. (now closed)

detail from photo at left

Besides the post office, I don't think there were any businesses operational in Gregory.  Wikipedia says its an unincorporated community that's well-known for deer and duck hunting.

While we were eating lunch, I saw a bird fly by that I'm sure was a Flicker.

Yellow-shafted Flicker

The only difference between the Yellow-shafted and Red-shafted Flickers is that the first has bright yellow under its wings and tail and the latter has red ditto.  And the first is common in the eastern US, while the red is ditto in the west.  But both have that white base on their tails that you can just barely see in this photo - but it's the only one I found on the internet that showed it.  It's easy to see when they fly.

Back on the road
We continued down Route 33 and passed the town of Dixie and a sign saying "Dixie Plantation," though neither was apparent.

Water continued to be deep in the drainage ditches, with lots of ducks everywhere.

The land's still flat in this area, even though it seems to me like we're quite a ways from the Mississippi Delta area.  Most, but not all, of this land is plowed.

Visibility continued to be only about a half mile, thanks to the persistent mist and/or rain.  A dreary day, weather-wise.

I heard Andrew Cuomo, NY's governor, say on the radio that the rate of illness in NY state is now doubling every 3 days.  That's a seriously frightening number.

At the (apparently non-existent) town of Little Dixie, I turned right on State Route 38 to head back to US Route 67.  If I'd turned left instead, I'd have reached the town of Cotton Plant.

I passed Sandhill Cemetery, and I mention it because it's the 2nd one with that name I've seen today.

I'm guessing the White River is navigable in this area, because the bridge I went over was extremely high, and abruptly so.  There I was, riding along straight flat land, and suddenly the road rose up high in the air and came back down again just as suddenly.  I spent at least 10 minutes online trying to find out more about that bridge, with no luck at all.

The radio station I was picking up gave listeners the EAB Ag Market Report (I think that stands for something like East Arkansas Broadcasting).  Their stations boast they have the most farmer listeners in East Arkansas.  Anyway, I learned about commodities prices for May and June markets - such as for beef and rice.  When they moved on, it turned out to be an oldies station, which was fun.

Then I heard them say, "East Arkansas broadcasters remind that in times of trouble, local businesses have been here for us, so now we should support our local businesses.  It's the East Arkansas way."

I saw lots of signs today reminding motorists that "Road Unsafe When Under Water."  But I was once again lucky not to encounter any underwater roads.

In Hickory Plains, one church advertised a parking lot drive in church service.

I passed a little Citgo station at a crossroads in the middle of nothing but fields, but they had gasoline at $1.59/gallon.  So I stopped and filled up, which I discovered later was a good move because that was the cheapest gas I found for the next 4 days.

Across the little intersection was a convenience store with a sign: "Try our new loaded mashed potato pizza."  Sorry, but that sounds absolutely ghastly to me.  I'm Old School on pizza too and am really fond of plain ordinary pepperoni or sausage with mushrooms.

Along this very rural road, I've been passing lots of small farms with at least 2 horses in every yard.

On the radio they said today in history, the Exxon Valdez hit a reef in Prince William Sound, Alaska.  The next morning, my husband Pete and I made an appearance on Good Morning America to talk about this catastrophic event from the Alaska fishermen's point of view.  But Juneau was 4 hours behind New York City, so we had to stay up all night to be at the local PBS station to be streamed (new technology in Alaska, when we were used to getting programs on a one-week taped delay from the Lower 48).  And we could only hear New York, not see them, though they could see us.  Odd sensation.

I finally made it back to US Route 67 and made it to a shopping center in North Little Rock, where I got a call from tonight's campground.  The manager wanted to be sure I'd gotten her email with the GPS information.  When I told her I hadn't gotten a wifi signal in days so hadn't seen her email but it didn't matter because I didn't have GPS, she was aghast.  How could I find the campground without GPS! she asked me.  So I told her when I'd last had a signal, I'd looked it up on Google and written down the directions and it looked pretty easy.  She was obviously very skeptical and warned me they were charging my credit card today for my reserved stay.  Could it be possible she really didn't remember a time before GPS when we all managed to get somewhere new?  She sounded like she was my age, not some teenager born with a smart phone in her hand.  Weird.

I was in the shopping center because I'd called last week to order a couple of books from Barnes & Noble, and they'd told me my order had come in and were holding it for me.  I often watch the movie Denial about Prof. Deborah Lipstadt being sued by a British Holocaust denier for saying in one of her books that he was a Holocaust denier.  So I ordered the book where she first said it and the book where she talked about the trial experience.  Just curious about what the movie left out.

In North Little Rock, I saw cherry trees and wisteria blooming.  We're coming up on Nature's most charming time of year.

The campground lady might have been surprised to know that I did get lost when I was following Google's directions but got found again easily when I pulled out the AAA map.  When I got to the campground, the map fell out of the cab when I got out to check in, and a nearby camper scoffed that I was using a paper map and said he much preferred technology.  To each his own, but I just don't see why people - especially those my age who should remember a time before all this fancy technology - are so scornful of the methods that worked just fine for a hundred years.

Arkansas - Day 23 - The Great River Road in Arkansas

Crowley's Ridge State Park, Paragould
Monday, 23 March 2020

Last night as I was taking the dogs on their last walk for the day, several boys about 10 years old stopped their bicycles and asked to pat them.  I agreed, but I've been wondering since if that's something I should do in these weird times.  People often ask to pat the dogs, who certainly enjoy it, but I've worried that these people could infect my puppies.  Online information about the coronavirus says there's only been one case in the whole world so far of a dog that has reportedly gotten the virus.  Scientists know so little about it yet that they can't say for sure, but they don't think dogs can get it and really don't think a dog who's carrying it could infect its owner.  Such weird questions we're having to ask these days.  I want to keep my babies (and me) safe but don't want to deprive them of affection they enjoy.

I had a delayed start to today's drive.  When I stop at a campground and open the drawers in the kitchen, I don't close them again fully until I'm ready to drive away - trying to save wear and tear on those latches that seem to break easily.  Today when I'd done everything else to get ready for the drive, I closed the drawers and found another latch had been broken.  For a change, it was on a different drawer from the one that's always broken before, which was the only bright spot (if it's a bright spot).  I put the few pots and pans I've been using in that drawer because it's the deepest and heaviest and most out of the way.  All of which made replacing the latch more difficult, but I've gotten it down to a routine.

Fortunately, I had a spare latch so all I had to do was empty the drawer, turn it upside down, replace half the latch, replace the other half in the cabinet frame, turn the drawer rightside up and replace it in the frame, and reload the contents.  It was just harder because the drawer was so heavy and the pans were bulky, and I'd never cleaned around it because how many of us do pull out all our drawers and clean behind them.  Well, it's all clean now.  I'll need to stop at an RV place somewhere and get another couple of spare latches.

So we started out a half hour later than I'd hoped, but at least we got going.

today's route

I designed my route for today to finish the Crowley's Ridge Parkway south and then head back north on Arkansas's portion of the Great River Road along the Mississippi River.  As you can see from the map above, that road doesn't follow the river very well until the northern end of it.  I'd been afraid of flooded roads, because I knew some of the roads in northeast Arkansas had been closed for flooding.  But I checked IDriveArkansas.com when I had a wifi signal (not one in last night's campground either) and it said the coast was clear.  And they were right.

The road south to Marianna
The road continued with s-curves and lanes that were only 8' wide.  I know that's how wide they were because I had so much trouble staying in my lane (and constantly hearing that rumble from the corrugations in the pavement at the lane edges) that I looked in my rearview mirror.  And I saw that my rear tires on both sides were just inches away from the edges of the lane.  My RV's 8' wide, so I exaggerated - the lanes were actually 8½' wide.  It made driving very uncomfortable to be constantly failing to stay in the lane and dealing with that constant rumble from the road.

Still on the Trail of Tears today.

I saw a lot of Blue Jays and Cardinals flying around the road - along the sides and across the road in front of us.  Sure are pretty.

Not much traffic this morning, which I found surprising since it's a Monday.  Maybe people are finally starting to stay at home more.

Just past Forrest City, pop. 15,371, "Jewel of the Delta," I passed a very large federal correctional facility.  I'm assuming the jobs there are part of the reason Forrest City has such a large population.

I crossed the L'Anguille River twice today on 2 different highways.  According to Wikipedia, that name means "the eel" and is pronounced "lan-GWEEL," which surprises me because that's how I was pronouncing it.  Although it also says the local pronunciation is "LANE-GEE," and I can't quite figure out how the one comes from the other.

Just after the first river crossing, I came to the town of Felton, which I know only because a sign said so.  I saw one house there.

I came to the town of Marianna, pop. 4,115 (though that may have dropped by nearly 600 in the last 10 years).  Instead of bypassing it, as Google wanted me to do, I drove into town looking for a BBQ place I'd heard was one of the best and worth the drive.  Jones Bar-B-Q Diner has gotten national kudos for its pulled pork and since I was in the neighborhood ... .  Except I couldn't find it.  Almost as soon as I tried to follow Google's reluctant directions, I discovered that the roads didn't do anything that Google said they would and they weren't named what they were supposed to be named.  Actually, some of them may have had the right names but there were no street signs to tell me so.  I ended up getting lost down a road so narrow I could barely turn around when I realized it wasn't getting me where I thought I should go.  I retraced my tracks and decided to just give up.  Even for good barbeque, there's a limit.

North on the Great River Road
Marianna's also where the Crowley's Ridge Parkway and the Great River Road meet, so off north I went.  In Arkansas, as in many other states, no one road is considered the Great River Road.  Instead, a lot of separate roads are strung together to create what should actually be called the Great River Route.  When I joined it, I was on US Route 79.

Many of the rivers I crossed were wide and full - even flooded.  St. Francis Floodway, St. Francis River, Cow Bayou, Cow Bayou Relief.  I saw lots of ponds, though for all I know they were flooded crop fields.  I saw lots of ducks swimming on various ponds and flooded drainage ditches.

Northern Shoveler

I'd swear I saw a Shoveler, though the bird book says Arkansas is only in its winter range.  With all the nesting activity I'm starting to see around here, I don't think a reasonable duck would consider this winter any more, whether I still need propane at night or not.  You can see from this internet photo they have unusually long bills; I saw the duck with the light behind it so I couldn't make out any colors - just the silhouette, so who knows.

I passed fields that I know were cotton fields because last year's plants were still standing - and they were flooded.  Lots of huge emerald green fields, apparently planted with some crop that was already growing.  Really pretty.

I finally started wondering if cotton's a perennial, so I looked it up and learned, to my surprise, that it is.  But it's grown as an annual in most places to help control diseases.  Apparently in the tropics cotton plants can grow quite tall - 6' to 12' if grown as a perennial,  4' to 5' if it's treated as an annual, which is the way I'm used to seeing them.

I passed a sign saying if I turned left, I'd come to Greasy Corner.

I'm guessing at this point I'm in Mississippi Delta country - the land is extremely flat.  So different from the center and west parts of Arkansas, which really aren't that many miles from here.

I've seen some Kingfishers at these ponds, but oddly, I haven't seen one egret or heron all morning.

I stopped for gasoline as I was coming into West Memphis and had an interesting conversation with the owner.  He was wearing a face mask and gloves, which seemed reasonable to me, but I asked him if he'd been getting a hard time from anybody, this being Trump country and all.  He said mostly people were okay but a few told him he was overreacting, that the virus was no worse than the flu, etc.  He told me he had relatives all over the world, including China and Italy and France, so he'd been hearing about this virus from its beginning.  His relatives had told him to take it seriously, and that's what he's been doing, and teaching his kids to do.  He said they'd had to drive down to Houston a few weeks earlier to get his son's passport renewed at the French Embassy there.  His kids heeded his instructions to touch nothing, but when he himself opened doors (for instance) without using his hands, people asked about it.  Most had never heard anything about the coronavirus, let alone the needed precautions.  The Texas governor has been following the president's initial line of "nothing to see here, folks" and has done almost nothing to prepare the state for trouble, despite Trump's changing message in the last week or so.

While I deplored the level of almost willful ignorance many people seem to be choosing, what I was most struck by was the idea of having relatives living in so many different parts of the world, and having a young son who needs to renew his passport at the French Embassy.  This is an international world we live in, and absolutely nothing stops at any borders any more.  There are no moats left in the world, and no drawbridges we can pull up to protect ourselves.  In the past, I've sympathized with the isolationist tendencies of many in the US, but I don't have to embrace 21st century technology to realize times have made that idea obsolete.

As an endearing side note, though, I saw several House Sparrow nests being built in the Citgo signs at the gas station.  In the C and G of one sign and the O of another.  Very sweet.

West Memphis is home to Arkansas State University's Mid-South Campus.  They seem to have a sizeable campus - now mostly deserted - so we stopped for a while to walk around and have lunch.

I never saw a sign saying I was in West Memphis (pop. 26,000+), but there were lots of indications I was.  Memphis, TN, was just across a bridge or two over the Mississippi River.  The downtown buildings were easily visible in the fairly near distance.

The West Memphis High School building was quite large.  I couldn't find a photo of it online, or even any information about it, but they might have a Facebook page which would have that sort of stuff on it.

Still going through West Memphis, I turned north on State Route 77 and came to the town of Marion, pop. 12,345.  I saw a sign for the Sultana Disaster Musuem.  I thought I'd misread it until I saw a second sign that said the same thing.  I'd never heard of the Sultana Disaster and looked it up, and it sounds like a museum worth visiting sometime.  Stories of the "Greatest Maritime Disaster in US History," per a Congressional Resolution, and the bribes and corruption that contributed to it, and the deaths of released prisoners from the notorious Civil War prison at Andersonville - it all sounds pretty interesting.

I'd stopped at that gas station back in West Memphis because, even though he was charging $1.94/gallon which I knew was more than some places charged, it was still the cheapest I'd seen today.  Not far after that, I passed 15 more stations (at least) that charged $1.79/gallon.  When you're buying 30 or 40 gallons like I am, that can add up to enough money to pay for an extra couple of gallons.  Oh, well.

I passed through many small towns today - Soudan, Brickeys, Hughes  (pop. 1,441), Sunset (pop. 198), Jericho (pop. 119), Clarksdale (pop. 371) - and they all look tired and like life and the highways have passed them by.  I'm guessing most of them are farming communities because I see little in the way of industry around here, except in the bigger places like Marion and West Memphis.

The land is incredibly flat around here, and I know I have a visibility of at least 1½ miles because that's the distance I covered from when I could first see the trucks on an interstate to when I reached it.  It looks like most of these fields are cotton fields, though I've heard rice is a common product around here.

At Turrell, pop. 615, I turned onto US Highway 61 - still the Great River Road - and saw a sign saying it's also the Americana Music Highway.

I found I was passing some very large fancy 2-story houses that were built on slab foundations level to the ground.  At that point, the ground level was the crop fields surrounding these houses - crop fields that were now pretty thoroughly flooded.  I wondered why on earth none of these home owners had thought to elevate their houses even a couple of feet.  If you were paying for a very fancy home, wouldn't it be reasonable to elevate it both for safety and for grandeur?  Momma's little 1928 house in Austin was elevated 3 steps' worth.  Why wouldn't these folks take that elementary precaution.  After all, the Mississippi River's not far away.  You just wonder what on earth people are thinking sometimes.

I saw hundreds of bales of cotton in the yard by Lee Wilson & Co., followed shortly by a sign saying "Welcome to Wilson, Ark."  Soon after that I passed the Producers Rice Mill Inc. and then another sign saying "Wilson (pop. 903).  I looked all that up and learned that Lee Wilson & Co. was a family-owned and -operated agribusiness (long before that was a word) from 1885 until it was sold in 2010.  For most of that time, they relied on enormous cotton fields, and established the company town of Wilson to house the workforce.  They also produced wheat, corn and alfalfa, as well as lettuce, spinach, cabbage, sweet potatoes and strawberries, as well as cottonseed oil.  Diversified, you see.  In recent years, they focused mainly on cotton, rice and soybeans.  Remarkably resilient, though apparently too reliant on cheap labor from freed slaves and, later, Mexicans imported for the seasons.  But 3 generations from its founding, the company's sale brought $150 million, so Grandpa's investment paid off.

That Rice Producers Mill, by the way, is part of a very successful farmers' cooperative that's been operating since 1945.  I'm thinking maybe those brilliant green fields I've been seeing might have been rice fields?

For some distance along this road I saw cotton bales stacked all over.  These were the round yellow Q-Tip lookalikes I've seen before.  That's a lot of cotton, I'd think.

By this time I'd decided Route 61 was the bumpiest road in the entire state of Arkansas.  I've been pretty impressed with the quality of the roads here - in general, of course.  Naturally there have been exceptions.  But Route 61 is downright unpleasant.  Rattles the RV and me and the critters and was close to giving me a headache.

I passed the Hampson Archaeological Museum State Park.  This museum preserves and presents information and artifacts from a civilization of farmers that lived in this area for 250 years, 1400 - 1650 AD.  They had their own art, religion, political structure and trading network.  It must have all been successful - the US still has 6 more years to go before we reach that mark.

Not far from here is the tiny town of Dyess, home of Johnny Cash and the site of the Dyess Colony.  This town was a New Deal creation - an agricultural resettlement community designed to give a fresh chance for hard-hit Arkansas families.  Johnny Cash's parents were among those who took advantage of that chance, moving there from western Arkansas when he was 3.  I wanted to go visit but saw online that these places are closed for the virus.  (An odd side note: his legal name was J. R. Cash; his mom wanted to name him John, his dad wanted him named Ray, and all they could agree on was those initials: J. R.  When he enlisted in the Air Force, they didn't allow initials as a name, so he called himself John R., and then Johnny when he started recording.  I'm not sure which is odder - his parents or the US military insisting he change his name.)

Today I've been seeing quite a few horses but no cows at all.

By the time I got to Osceola (pop. 7,757) I decided I'd had enough Great River Road for this state.  I never did get to see the river along here and the road wasn't going to get any closer for the rest of the way to Missouri.  But I'd have still stuck with it if it had been even ordinarily smooth.  The lousy road surface we'd started with had kept up all these miles and I'd had it.  Instead, I picked out a shortcut on county roads to get me past Blytheville and closer to Jonesboro.  Both the AAA and the official state maps told me the plan would work.

Unfortunately, the markers along the road didn't agree.  Not one of the alternate roads I'd identified showed up on directional signs, and I ended up a long way out of my way heading back south toward Turrell.

Even though I was heading a ways inland from the river, I was still seeing flooded fields and churches insisting on holding group Sunday services.  Wonder if there's a relation between the two.

I came to Mississippi County and for a few befuddled minutes I thought I might have somehow strayed into the state of Mississippi.  I really did get jounced around a lot on Rt. 61.

I passed what was obviously a large orchard, though I didn't recognize the bare trees and saw no blooms or even buds on them.  "Walnuts" is part of quite a few place names in this part of the state, so maybe it's a walnut grove?

I passed the St. Francis Sunken Lands WMA (Wildlife Management Area) and figured the name must have a story behind it.  Turns out it does.  This area of land became permanently submerged and became a swamp during the New Madrid Earthquakes of 1811-1812.  There's a fault line running from this part of Arkansas up through Missouri's Bootheel, and it became active over a 3-month period that winter.  It remains the most powerful earthquake (series) ever to hit the US east of the Rockies.

The effects were felt for about 5 times the distance as the 1906 San Francisco earthquake produced (by way of comparison).  When I was in northwestern Tennessee, I stayed at Reelfoot Lake State Park which was created by this same series of earthquakes.  There I heard stories of eyewitnesses saying they saw the Mississippi River running backwards from the shockwaves.

Back then, the damage was fairly minimal because this area was so rural, but times have changed - I saw fairly recent estimates by scientists that there's a 25% - 40% chance of a recurrence within the next 50 years (well, 35 years now) which could cause massive damage to the surrounding 7 states.

I finally made it up to State Route 18 at Black Oak (pop. 262) and stopped for a brief break at the empty Church of Christ.  They were using slightly more sense than some churches, according to the sign on their door: "To slow the progress of the current sickness the Elders have decided to postpone Sunday evening and Wednesday evening services until April."  Since they don't mention Sunday morning services, I assume they'll go on as usual, which is why I said their sense was only slightly better than some.

On the other hand, they have some pretty hyacinths in the tiny flower bed in front, the first I've seen this year.

More small towns and flooded fields and back to Jonesboro, where I'd stopped yesterday for errands.  I went on different roads this time and saw plants for Butterball, Unilever, Ryder, Stouffer's, Hytrol (conveyor belts, etc.), and ABB.  I looked up this last one and am still not quite sure what they do; their website says they're "pioneering e-mobility ... electrifying transportation, automating industries" and such like.  Which tells me next to nothing.  But Jonesboro is one of their many locations.

I heard on the radio that the Arkansas governor is calling a special session of the Legislature because of a recently projected reduction of state income of $353,000,000.  Arkansas, I learned, has a balanced budget requirement (which I think is a mistake in governments for just this reason - disasters that the government absolutely must respond to without regard for the money involved), so this level of shortfall had to be addressed quickly, he said.

At the same time, state health officials said they were now seeing community transmission of the coronavirus in Little Rock for the first time, and they expected that would soon show in the rest of the state.  Which means to me it's going to get much worse before it gets better.

I saw a sign saying I could turn to go to Goobertown, which is apparently a real - though unincorporated - town.

I got to tonight's campground and saw a Honda Odyssey parked near the office that had a bumper sticker saying, "Honk if a kid falls out."

Long day.  Lots of driving.

Arkansas - Day 22 - Crowley's Ridge in eastern Arkansas

Village Creek State Park, Wynne
Sunday, 22 March 2020

I was just packing up the loose items in the cabin getting ready to leave when David called.  He and Anna wanted me to know that if I started finding all the campgrounds were closing because of the virus, I could take a break from this trip for a month or two and come stay with them.  Very generous of them, since they invited not just me but also my 2 unruly dogs and my grouchy elderly cat.

The virus situation is changing so rapidly, I can't at all predict what's going to be happening at these campgrounds.  I can see why the owners might consider closing them, but I know there are a lot of people like me who live in their RVs for many months of the year.  Most campgrounds where I've stayed have at least a few folks who leave early each morning to go to work and come back late afternoon.  Closing campgrounds doesn't just shut down family recreation - it makes a whole bunch of people nearly homeless.  I mean, we can carry around our homes, but we can't just drive perpetually.  We have to stop somewhere every day.

Anyway, I thought it was wonderful of Anna and David to offer a Plan B to me.  A relief to know the option is there.

I'd already walked the dogs around the campground just before sunrise, luckily being early enough to beat the other dog owners out of bed.  But I was afraid to chance it on a walk before leaving, so I drove us all over to the campground recreation area.  And saw a sign at the playground saying, "Playground closed until further notice."  It would never have occurred to me to worry about germs living on the chains of the swing set, for instance, but it worried the campground staff.

This second walk was a bit of a battle, because there was a very strong wind and a light rain.  Not very comfortable.

today's route

My plan today was to follow most of Crowley's Ridge Parkway, to see if I can spot the geological significance of it.  The State of Arkansas says:

Left as an erosional remnant from the natural forces of rivers 40 million years ago, Crowley's Ridge stands 100 to 200 feet above the fertile plains of the Delta in eastern Arkansas.  ... [It] forms a narrow arc of scenic rolling hills extending from Cape Girardeau, Missouri, into the northeast corner of Arkansas down to the Mississippi River at Helena.

There's a whole museum about this anomaly in Jonesboro, but it is of course closed for the virus, which is why I was reduced to trying to figure it out on my own.  I'll say right here, I wasn't very successful.  The Parkway seems to run along the ridgetop, and on occasion I could see down below that level.  But I never saw signs that I was on a ridge where down below were the flat lands of the Delta.  All I saw was the ridge, with all the land along it being at about the same level.

I aimed first toward Crowley's Ridge State Park to see if they had any displays or handouts I could use.  It's about 30 miles from Lake Charles State Park where I stayed last night.

On the road
I passed a bird condo where every other box faced a different direction, so the sides that were blank on one side had holes on the other.  Allowed for the birds to not have confusion about which hole belonged to whose family.  Something like this, though they were all pushed up together, not separated:

     [○][  ][○][  ][○][  ][○][  ]

I drove past any number of signs today that read: "Road Unsafe When Under Water."  And I was lucky - not once did I have to choose between a road that was under water and turning around to find a different route.  In the Austin area where there are so very many low water crossings, authorities say, "Turn Around, Don't Drown."  And every year, some idiot thinks that doesn't apply to them and endangers the lives of First Responders when they try to rescue them, not always successfully.  Arkansas seems to be trying to remind drivers in rural areas of that.

The road ran alongside the Black River - in some places almost in the Black River (thus the need for those signs) - and I passed a house that had been on the edge of the river but was now almost surrounded by it.  The house itself was elevated fairly high and it didn't look in danger, but the yard around it was completely inundated.  These folks had a narrow walkway just barely above the water level that would take them out to their vehicles parked right by the road I was on.  They also had a camper parked out with their pickups, and I wondered when they'd decide it was time to get while the gettin's good.

The river was quite clearly well above its usual area, and areas on both sides of the road were swamped.  I passed a farm road that went into one of the farm's fields, but I could see only the beginning of the road.  After the first few feet, it was completely covered, and the water level was up past the bottom portion of the farm gate.

I came to the town of Portia, pop. 437, and thought of my uncle Tom who called me Portia after I graduated from law school, basing it on Shakespeare's character who acted as a lawyer in The Merchant of Venice, incidentally saving a man's life.

Today many of the fields I'm seeing are brown and orange - I think the orange is a crop that's been planted - some kind of grain, I think.  In fact, I saw a great deal of this during the day, with the grain in various stages of growth.

I passed the town of Light (no pop. sign).  They had what looked like some sort of grain facility there for a company called Sanders.  This company says it manufactures proprietary seed brands for several kinds of grain, including oats and wheat.  So maybe one of those is what I've been seeing.  I saw several Sanders plants today.

There's lots of flat land around here, and the entire horizon due east is defined by a row of low hills (well, they look low from here).

In Walcott, the parking lot for one of the churches was filling up, which I find disheartening.  Clearly these folks have been listening to Pres. Trump's early pronouncements that the coronavirus is no more serious than flu and the threat is way overblown by those who want to defeat him (i.e. the media and the Democrats).  Never mind that he changed his story recently, apparently.

I came to Crowley's Ridge State Park and found that all they have to offer (since the park's office was closed to outside contacts) is a leaflet that I quoted from above.  The Mr. Crowley in question was a soldier in the War of 1812 who was the first pioneer settler in this area.

I passed Lake Frierson, which was way overflowing its banks and was up to the roadway.

I came into Craighead County and saw a sign for Stained Glass Addicts near Jonesboro.

I saw a sign saying that portion of the highway had been adopted by The Fugarwe Tribe.  I finally decided it must be the name of a family (Momma used to talk about the family "tribe"), but I looked them up and found I was sort of wrong.  It's a motorcycle club that rides around and has fun and at some point on each trip, someone asks, "Where the fug are we?"  They're on Facebook, so this was all I could find out about them, though it's really nice that they clean up the highway.

I'm seeing more horses today, almost no cows, more grain.

All Dollar General stores are open.  Everywhere I've been I see them open.  Though in some places they function as a grocery store, so I guess that's reasonable.

Jonesboro
I came to Jonesboro, pop. 67,263, and saw a sign for the OMG Law Firm.

They have a nice Main Street - large, stately old homes and small, modest old homes all together along the street.

I stopped at a grocery store and then at the Baptist church across the street to use their empty parking lot for a rest break.  This church had signs on the door saying, "Church services and activities suspended until further notice due to coronavirus.  Sunday services will be streamed on our Facebook page at 9 AM."  That seemed an eminently reasonable way to deal with this situation.  It makes these cling-to-in-person-services folks look pretty rigid.

It occurred to me that Jonesboro was the largest place I'd be seeing for a couple of days, that the current temperature outside wasn't very high and was likely to be much lower overnight, and that I was running low on propane.  I quick like a little bunny got on the internet and found a U-Haul dealer who said if I'd needed to fill propane tanks he couldn't have helped me, but since my tank was permanent in my RV, I should come on down.  Nice guy; taking many precautions to minimize his risk of the virus but didn't seem too weird about it.  I was glad he could fill up my tank.  Gives a secure feeling.

I passed a realtor setting out an Open House sign.  I hadn't thought about it before, but this seems like an awkward time to be trying to sell a house.

Back on the road
Since Crowley's Ridge State Park I've been on State Route 163.  It's also known as Crowley's Ridge Parkway, and has been designated an America's Byway.  It's scenic, for sure, but it also has zero shoulder, very narrow lanes, curves and s-curves most of the route, up and down hills often, frequent though spaced out houses.  In other words, not an easy drive.

I passed a VFW hall that had a sign: "Closed for Corona."  Presumably they just ran out of letters for their sign, but with the VFW, it just might possibly mean the beer.

The occasional redbuds seem absolutely vibrant in the monotone landscape - still mostly bare branches and low clouds and gray day - all very pre-Spring.

At another church I saw a sign that said, "The signs are here for Jesus to return - Be ready."  And I remembered something I'd seen a few days ago where some preacher or other was saying no, this was not the time of Armageddon because the new Temple has not yet been built.  I guess I'm reassured.

Tonight's campground had a small display outdoors (they too weren't letting anyone inside their office) about the Trail of Tears.  I'm sorry I didn't have my camera to take a photo - it just didn't occur to me I'd see anything worth photographing in all this drizzle.  But I remember the sign said all of the land and water routes that were used in the forced eviction of Natives from their lands to the western areas passed through Arkansas.  The map below looks a lot like the one at the Visitor Center.

This would explain why I keep seeing road signs saying I'm on the Trail of Tears.  Most of the northern half of Arkansas qualifies.