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.
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| today's route |
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:
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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.
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