Nimrod
Lake, Arkansas
July 26, 1995
AT HOME
IN THE HEARTLAND
Bidding
farewell to our friend Miriam Pederson in Flagstaff at the end
of June, we made use of I-40 to get to Holbrook, Arizona. As we left
town, we passed Terry & Brad Thode who last crossed our path
when they rescued the broken Phoenix near Arco, Idaho, in October.
Holbrook
is the watering hole for people who want to visit Petrified Forest National
Park. It has one of the few remaining tepee motels in America, each
one with an air conditioner hanging out one side.
At the
entrance to Petrified Forest, we had to sign a pledge that we wouldn't
take anything away with us when we left. The stone trees are slowly
being carted away, chunk by chunk, a process that started a hundred
years ago when the first visitors exported petrified wood by the trainload.
Go see it before it's all been made into bookends. The Painted Desert
is also worth a journey.
Interstate
40 took us to New Mexico next, but we veered off after Gallup. A winding
road took us through Smith Lake, Seven Lakes, and Ambrosia Lake, which
means you'd think we'd have gotten a view of nine lakes in all, but
names can be deceptive. We didn't see even one. Maybe they're there
in the winter. Maybe they've been carted away, like the Petrified Forest.
If you've
ever driven across the United States by a southerly route, you know
how largely Texas figures into the experience. Having enjoyed its greatness
on numerous other occasions, we decided to see if we could make it to
St. Louis without touching it. We angled north from Tucumcari and drove
through the Oklahoma panhandle where the Black Mesa, the state's highest
point, is located.
In Dodge
City, Kansas, we stayed at the Gunsmoke Campground and checked out Marshall
Dillon's stomping ground. We have a hard time getting used to the idea
that Kansas is the West, but "West" was a moving target when
Dodge City was born. We found out that Kansas City is "West,"
too, and so is St. Louis. Now we're wondering about Newark.
This is
wheat mowing season, and there is nothing quite like meeting a combine
convoy on a narrow two-lane road in a driving thunderstorm. After a
brief stopover in Wichita, Kansas, where we met Mac McIntyre,
we headed north searching for the elusive cellular telephone signal
we needed to transmit an article to a publisher. The "X" spot
turned out to be in front of a commercial bakery in Hutchinson. The
Phoenix doesn't stop anywhere for long without attracting attention,
and it was our good fortune that the bakery's manager, Bill Ahlgrim,
came out to say hello. He gave us a private tour of the Rainbo bakery,
where countless hot dog buns were being prepared in time for the Fourth
of July. The machinery was awesome, and the smell overwhelmingly mouth-watering.
In Kingdom
City, Missouri, near the charming and historic town of Fulton, we visited
with Wayne & Jackie Hollinshed at Crooked Creek, where the
trees and stream were lovely, and the number of bugs mind-boggling.
Our next stop was St. Louis.
St.
Louis had been our destination for the Fourth of July for two reasons.
One was that we'd heard the fireworks at the Gateway Arch on the river
were terrific, and the other was that the Mensa Annual Gathering, at
which we were scheduled to give a talk, began there the next day.
The St.
Louis RV Park is conveniently located close to downtown, and we took
up residence there for a week. Rick & Joyce Burba were superb
hosts, and Marvin was thrilled with the open field across the street
where he could run free. We also had a room in the convention hotel.
The fireworks
at the Arch, shot from barges on the Mississippi, were the perfect way
to celebrate the Fourth. Our friend Paul Bethe joined us.
Our talk
at the Mensa gathering went well. With the help of the Chief Concierge,
Jeanne Venn, we parked the Phoenix in a loading zone, and played
host to thirty or so Mensans who visited it after hearing about our
travels and seeing our slides. "Where do you keep your books?"
was the most-asked question. Book storage is indeed a challenge for
us, and we have gotten very good at recycling reading material as we
go. Whenever we get a new book, we give an old one away. We never have
more than about ten at a time.
St. Louis
is a wonderful city, and the Gateway Arch, which we could see from our
hotel room, is magnificent. We had expected a landmark, but were not
prepared for a work of art. The light changes constantly on its reflective
surface, and its height of over six hundred feet makes it far more impressive
than any postcard can show. Downtown St. Louis is full of fabulous architecture
including Union Station, which looks more like a castle than a train
depot. The old courthouse is beautiful, too. Add good food and jazz
to the setting, and you get a great city to visit and enjoy. Vicarious
traveling companions who joined us there are Gary Flor, Harold Messler,
Simone Van Egeren & Richard Lederer, Dan Gilmore, Ellie Bast, Karyn
Pidgeon, Ruth Crowther, LaVena Kay Kidd, Geri Neemidye, Dan Babcock,
Lois Sugar, Lee Arhelger, Jon Applegate, Brad Baucom, Roberta Nell,
Jana Bickel, Ranford Russell, and Elna Tymes.
Springfield,
Missouri, was our next stop, and from there we headed to Carthage, a
lovely town full of picture-perfect Victorian houses. We visited the
Precious Moments chapel. It's a sort of theme park featuring those little
ceramic "collectible" children with the tear-drop eyes. The chapel has
wall murals depicting Bible stories. All the characters are Precious
Moments children.
Another
man-made wonder in the area is Bass Pro Outdoor World, which claims
to be the world's largest sporting goods store. We have no doubt that
it is. It has a lake and waterfalls and live ducks and the largest live
bass in captivity. It has hundreds of freeze-dried animals placed in
life-like poses in artificial forests. It has a McDonald's and a beauty
parlor. All this, and the largest inventory of sporting goods anywhere.
It'll fascinate you even if you're a couch potato.
At Kimberling
City on the edge of Table Rock Lake, we discovered an Episcopal Church
in an unusual store front location. We attended a service Sunday morning
and met Mark, Janet & Maxwell Levitzke and many other members
of the friendly congregation. They've just bought a new church building
and invited us to come back after they move next month.
Branson,
Missouri. Five years ago it was just a dot on the map. It's still a
dot on the map, but suddenly it's become a household word. It's where
you go for country music. There are theaters everywhere you look, and
shows all day long. The town claims a population of under 4,000, but
it gets over five million visitors every year. Branson's definitely
not a small town any more. It's a phenomenon. We were guests of Sharon
& Bob Klein at their KOA in the heart of the action. They have
created an amazing tree-shaded oasis only a few steps from the hustle
of the strip.
After three
days and three shows, we moved south to Arkansas. Near Bentonville,
we stopped at Beaver Lake and enjoyed dinner with Dale Bush.
Dale makes exquisitely beautiful wood kaleidoscopes which can be found
in galleries all over the country. e travels a lot, and we were glad
to catch him at his home base. The next morning, he gave us a tour of
his shop, Big Muddy Woodworks.
It would
be easy to develop an addiction to the orange French toast served by
Jean Rowe at Aunt Clyde's Cafe in Rogers, where Dale treated
us to breakfast the next morning. After stuffing ourselves, we drove
through the town of Eureka Springs, a scenic resort town in the Ozarks.
A drive down highway 7 took us by Dogpatch, U.S.A., through Booger Hollow
and over the Buffalo River.
We're now
at Nimrod Lake, where we have been treated to two nights of spectacular
lightning storms. Marvin has proven inconveniently adept at picking
up hitchhiking ticks. The removal of same is not one of our favorite
activities. Tomorrow we're headed for Hot Springs National Park, not
too far from Little Rock.
Thank you
for the wonderful mail (both e- and snail) and gifts of postage you've
sent. A few more folks who joined us on the loopy path of the Phoenix
this month include Gerry Garner, Tony Jacoy, Gayle Hackamack, John
Russell, and Jim & Marge Laris. We look forward to sending
you this journal as we travel. For us, home is not defined by physical
location, and it's by writing that we maintain a feeling of community.
Megan
and Mark
