Sunday, 15 March 2020
Beware the Ides of March! (Hope not. A week of Friday the 13ths has been bad enough.)
Woke up on Mt. Rich to continuing strong wind gusts and winds blowing at what I'm sure was at least 40 mph. I've been very lucky up here on the mountain to be able to get a wifi signal, but it didn't help me get an accurate reading on the weather on the mountaintop. The weather reports that claimed to be for Queen Wilhelmina State Park turned out to be identical to those for the town of Mena, 1000' farther down the elevation scale from where I was.
By this morning, there were only 3 campers left here, and 2 of us have dogs. About the usual proportion in a campground.
We were still completely socked in, still with about a quarter mile of visibility, if that much. Since I'd finally found a wifi signal, I hated to leave but have already made a reservation at Fort Smith for the night.
today's route |
The Ouachita Mountain range, where I am, is unusual in that it generally runs east-west. Take a look at this topographic map. https://en.wikipedia.org/Ouachita-topographic If you look at this map and think about the way the Rockies run, for instance, or the Appalachians, you'll see how that east-west business makes them different. I'll meet them again later this year in Oklahoma.
US Route 71 is the main artery in western Arkansas, and I stayed on it for most of today's driving. I crossed and recrossed streams and rivers all morning. At one point a Walmart semi came speeding (well over the speed limit) up behind me and tailgated me for miles before deciding he could pass me. I was glad to get rid of him. I realize western Arkansas is where Walmart got its start, but that doesn't mean they own the roads, too.
I passed a cemetery south of Fourche La Fave River and saw a sign that began, "To prevent conflict ...." If there'd been anywhere at all I could have turned around to go back and read that sign I would've. I looked it up on Google Street View and found it, but the sign is just too far from the road for me to read it. All I can see for sure is that the "to prevent conflict" is the 1st of 8 lines of writing on this sign. What on earth has been going on at that cemetery that's promoted so much conflict that they've had to post a sign for?
All morning I passed horses, cows, scattered communities and towns. I drove over lots of hills, though not high ones, and went around lots of curves. A sign reminded me I was on an Arkansas Scenic Byway, and I agree that even this time of year it's scenic.
I went around a curve and saw a man standing by the road out in front of a house. The man, who was tall and thin, was wearing a long flowing white robe and holding a staff taller than he was. He had lots of long gray hair and his beard was also long and gray. He had something on his head that made me think of a crown of thorns, though I'm sure that wasn't what he was wearing. It's still 3 weeks till Palm Sunday. He wasn't holding a sign and made no motions with his hands, so he wasn't trying to pass on an obvious message. He just stared at me. Very odd.
I saw a semi with a Texas license plate and the company name: Bubba Gump Trucking.
Just north of the community of Boothe, I passed a small cemetery with the sign B.J.F. Trotter Heirs Private Cemetery, circled by a chain link fence. It was right next to Cedar Grove Cemetery which was, presumably, for the local town to use. Boothe isn't even a real town and I can't find out who the Trotters were in this area, let alone why they needed to be so exclusive in death.
I started coming to an area where there were fewer hills, though still plenty of s-curves.
Up here, those beautiful white-blooming trees are starting to turn green already. They were gorgeous while they lasted.
Coming into Mansfield, pop. 1,139, I saw a big sign: "Home of Jacky Martin, 7-Time All-American Futurity Winner." Little Mansfield is happy to claim its native son, one of America's most successful jockeys of all time. After an outstanding career of more than 30 years, he was paralyzed from the neck down from a fall in a race. He died in 2015.
Near Huntington, I stopped by a gas station to check the map and saw an eatery called Hugs & Biscuits attached to the gas station. I had to look them up, with a name like this, and saw a lot of mixed reviews online. Oddly, everybody talked about the people (great owner, surly owner, rude waitress, drug activity), but almost nobody talked about the food. Sounds like there aren't many hugs being passed out, though. (Just as well in these days of social distancing.)
I passed a yard with 3 llamas (or some critter that looks like them).
I'm still finding hills - or maybe I just went through a flat patch and now I'm back in them.
I passed farms, cows, horses, tack shops, horse trailers for sale.
I saw something that told me Arkansas's the smallest state west of the Mississippi River. That would be contiguous states, of course, not counting Hawaii. But when I thought about it, I realized that's absolutely true and from here on out, I'll be having to work a lot harder to get around to most areas of any of the states I visit.
I saw a sign advertising Hideaway Pizza: "4 out of 3 mathematicians voted us best."
Fort Smith
And I arrived in Fort Smith, pop. 86,209 - Sister City to Cisterna, Italy. Wonder if they're in communication these days, and if Fort Smith can help Cisterna in any way with this pandemic.
Fort Smith is Arkansas's 2nd largest town; it's also one of the 2 county seats for Sebastian County. The other is Greenwood, and I can't seem to find anyone who wants to tell me why this county has 2 county seats at the same time. It's not like this is the Civil War era when states had 2 capital cities, or even a Hatfield-McCoy area where there's some major feud going on. Wikipedia just says that fact, of there being 2 county seats, and leaves it lying there for people to trip over. Like me. Weird.
Fort Smith is also where Judge Isaac Parker became known as the Hanging Judge in the last 25 years of the 1800s. He got this nickname when, of his 1st 18 trials, he convicted 15 and sentenced them to death. But this place had been a dangerous free-for-all until he came, so he at least brought some law and order to the area.
One of the main streets in Fort Smith is Jenny Lind Road, and I don't know why. Wikipedia says this town is one of many in the US to name roads and other landmarks after her - though she was from Sweden and lived most of her life in Europe, she did tour the US extensively in the mid-1800s. There are no recordings made of her voice, so her fame was strictly word-of-mouth. (I didn't know there's even a Jenny Lind soup, made with mashed rutabagas and sage and Gruyère and cream and raw eggs, beaten to the consistency of wallpaper paste. Yum.)
Fort Smith also has a Zero Street.
The Word of the Week at Ramsey Jr. High School: lucid.
I passed a Buddhist temple and learned that there are 4 in the Fort Smith area.
I passed Plunkett Piano Tuning. I swear.
I spent a little time in Fort Smith doing errands - groceries, laundry. The city's recycling department said online that I would find official recycle bins at several grocery stores, including the one I went to. If they're there, they're disguised or really hidden, because I looked and didn't find them. So I'll keep on and hope to find recycling somewhere else soon.
Back on the road
I drove past the small town of Alma, which I'd intended to stop in for a visit, but it was already mid-afternoon so I skipped it. The visit was in honor of its declaration to be The Spinach Capital of the World. Definitely not the only place to take that stance, and you'll want to take a look at this link to see information about a near feud with Texas over it, as well as some local color. http://arkansasroadstories.com/alma
Heading north I found a steep downhill drop on my way into Mountainburg, pop. 631. Maybe I'm heading out of the Ouachita Mountains now?
Tiny green leaves are beginning to appear on some of the trees. Makes a nice change from bare branches, which is still mostly what I'm seeing, of course.
I crossed Clear Creek, which isn't exactly clear, but it's not mud-colored like most of the rivers I've been seeing.
And then a steep uphill climb and a sign saying, "Crooked and Steep next 1½ miles." My ears popped.
Then steep downhill for the next 2 miles.
And we finally made it to the campground at 4:00 - much later than I usually arrive. I was surprised to find it almost full on a Sunday evening. Usually campgrounds empty out on Sundays. Lots of families were here, so I'm guessing Spring Break was showing itself.
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