October 24: Tchula to Wenger Mountain

We took our leave of our gracious hosts after breakfast with Barbara. I had gone out to take a walk down Lakeview Drive, enjoying the cool air and the sun coming through the trees lining the Yazoo River. Until I got to a big, barking dog. Or was it two? Not wanting to tangle with redneck dogs, I turned and walked the other way. Passed the Freeman's house and walked around the few blocks of the neighborhood which border a cottonfield. There I picked one small sample to show my kids. It stayed on the dashboard for the rest of our trip. I learned from the Freemans that once they saw otters in that field. My otter fan, AJ, now wants to visit them.



Mike and Barbara let us north out of town, pointing out the cotton gin and the place where the cotton producers leave their bales for market. I wondered how many Land's End shirts are in one of those bales?


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On north into Greenwood and a gas station we drove, stopping along the way to get pictures of swamps and cottonfields. Oh, I love this country! So cool to see the cotton along the side of the road with the swampland beyond.




We reached the Mississippi River and then the Arkansas border about noon, stopping at one of the much appreciated Arkansas Welcome Centers: along with brochures and maps from all over, one gets a free cup of coffee. But you pay for it by listening to the state employee singing the praises of their native son, Bill Clinton.

As we drove west across Arkansas we finished listening to Arvin's The Will. A good story.

Nothing quite prepared me for the finished interstate 540 from Fort Smith, across the Boston Mountains (we used to travel winding US 71), to Fayetteville and north. It was nearing the end of daylight, when the sun's angle makes all the colors more brilliant. And I-540 was cut with a wide swath through the mountains, so as to make grand vistas with every hill and curve, no close trees, only views of the mighty forests from afar. And the colors! Red and Yellow and Green in perfect proportion. I wish I had stopped (it never seemed quite safe) for a few photos. But it will remain in my memory as one of the highest lights of our journey.

We had been prepared for all the changes in Fayetteville, Springdale, Rogers, Bentonville, and Pea Ridge. We got off of the interstate at Walnut in Rogers as our gas tank was low. The changes along this road were indicative of the rest, and vast. Still we were able to pick out old landmarks. And I found my way just fine up toward Garfield.



Les and Mary Gay had to guide us with mileages and directions the last few miles as I had forgotten the way to Wenger Mountain. Once I passed Gateway I remembered about US 62 and Indian Creek. We arrived in time for a late supper of Mary Gay's homemade chicken noodle soup and homemade sour dough whole grain bread with sunflower seeds. She's the best.