Week 9: Southern Hospitality
Summary: West Plains, MO to Memphis, TN 221 miles
June 1st to June 7th
To view map on google, click here.
Day 57: West Plains, MO to Hardy, AR 43 miles
Monday, June 1st
I woke up to what sounded like some domestic violence coming from the room above me. I got dressed and went out to see a lady wearing an A-shirt dragging three children down the hallway as a clearly intoxicated husband slurred cusswords after her as he made a drunken stumbled attempt to catch up. I gave the front desk guy a questioning look and he just shook his head at me. The woman entered a car and drove away while the husband retreated to his room. Good morning Missouri!
After eating a complementary waffle breakfast and getting all my things together I went upstairs and spent a few hours finishing my blog work from the previous week. I then set out back on the road again, hopping on highway 63. The highway was three lanes for the most part, alternating the center lane as a passing lane for either side. The shoulder was only existent on the side without the passing lane so I passed the hours by zigzagging across the road, following the shoulder. Really at no point during the day was I ever not either standing as I pedaled uphill or lazily coasting downhill. This hilly region of the country goes by the name of the Ozarks, and I had a great chance to exercise those climbing muscles I had developed on the Great Divide.
Although I initially held some reservations for this route (it wasn’t a typical bike route, it was heavily trafficked by semis, and didn’t always have a decent shoulder to ride on) it quickly developed its own unique majesty. Amidst the rising and falling of the hills that define the Ozarks, the trees took on a jungle feel, the foliage quickly becoming dense and ivy filled. The further south I traveled the more the countryside took on a rustic and vintage feel. The road signs, mailboxes, cars, and buildings were all slightly antiquated, with tinges of rust covering their edges. Everything seemed to be in various states of disrepair which, to me, didn’t make them broken or trashy, rather it gave these things a certain personality, a certain history.
At one point, just before passing into Arkansas, I stopped by at a roadside antique/souvenir shop. It was covered in all sorts of collections, memorabilia, and Americana. The outside was decorated with various knick knacks including license plates, road signs, and lawn art. The inside was filled with hot wheels, post cards, glass sculptures, comic books, Mountain Dew bottles, basically anything collectable. There was even purchasables hanging from the ceiling. Every inch of the shop was covered with eye catchers.
Roadside antique store.
Arkansas Flowers.
Mammoth Falls, AR.
Bow wow.
Von Allmen! My mother's last name.
The rustic look I was talking about.
Eventually, I did pass into Arkansas and made another pit stop at Mammoth springs where I bought a few postcards. The ladies at the visitor center gave me a few tips on places to stop during my southward journey, the principal of which was a bed and breakfast overlooking the Spring River. I spent my lunch that day at the Bigger's B&B. I set my camera up time-lapse the river while I ate my PB&Js poolside. It was a very relaxing afternoon. After experiencing a view of the river from above I decided I wanted a more personal look at it. I biked into the nearby town of Hardy where I found a Kayaking shop and a man named John pressure washing a deck. I asked them if they were running Kayak trips today and he told me they sure were. I spent the remainder of the afternoon with John kayaking the spring river.
John was a true Arkansan. With no teeth to speak of but a huge heart to make up for it, we spent the trip down the river talking about family, about faith, about the greater issues in the world. He was a kind soul and I wish him the best. The trip down the river was a smooth one, peppered with some rope swings, a few trees to jump off of, and some casual rapids. The “rapids” were really just little waves, but they were enough to knock me off my kayak at one point, but the water and the air was plenty warm, and I didn’t mind taking a dip.
I spent that night at a nearby campsite, drinking a few brews with John and his friend Jessica while we counted fireflies (or lightning bugs as they called them). Although I didn’t make many miles today I didn’t care. It had been a different kind of day, a good kind of day.
Spring River
Bigger's Bed & Breakfast. Beautiful lookout and lunch spot.
John, my river guide for the day.
A day on the Spring River.
Day 58: Hardy, AR to Lake Poinsett, AR 87 miles
Tuesday, June 2nd
I spent the night fighting more allergies and the occasional train which passed less than 100 ft. from my campsite. Despite a restless night, I woke feeling refreshed and ready for a long day on the road. I packed camp quickly and made it to the Corner Booth where I had breakfast with John and his employer Rocky. It was a Southern kind of breakfast conversation, talking cars, and river height, and Baptist ministry.
Morning sunrise in Hardy, AR.
I was on the road by 7:30 and I steadily left the Ozarks. Pretty soon the jungles which had surrounded me turned into rice and corn fields. I can’t say how many dead, run over Armadillos I passed since Missouri, but they were literally in the hundreds, about one carcass every ¼ mile. The frequency of their appearance peaked today, I have yet to see a live armadillo.
Eventually I passed over a heavy construction zone surrounding a large bridge. As I left the flagged area I hear a loud engine directly over my head and look up to see a biplane zip across the treetops not 100 feet above. It made several passes before banking and flying off into the distance. The bridge marked the full transition from forest to farmland and I now was on flat ground again. I saw glimpses of more biplanes throughout the day as they dive-bombed farmer’s fields and dropped their payload of pesticides. I had never seen a crop-duster before. Ever since my childhood, growing up watching my favorite movies Hook and Rocketeer, I dreamed of flying, and seeing these planes soar low and slow tugged on my heart and my imagination the way nothing else can.
Ravenden, AR.
Construction site.
Biplane and cropduster.
Arkansas.
Poinsett County is the largest producer of rice in the USA.
So many gorgeous flowers in Arkansas.
I would ride into the town of Jonesboro, AR to stop at a bike shop. Although my bike really didn’t need much maintenance my rear wheel could do with a good true and I wanted advice on how to enter Memphis on a bike. I went into Gearhead Cycle House in town, which is apparently a really famous cycle shop. The folks there were incredible; they were super nice and welcoming and conversant, were generally interested in my trip and well-being. While one guy took a look at my rear wheel, which ended up needing replacing, another gal helped me plan my route into the city. During all this I was talking about seeing the crop dusters and my desire to go flying when another customer overheard me. He introduced himself as Wes, a pilot by profession, and wrote his information down on a card while offering to take me flying on Friday. He even mentioned that we could fly “inverted.” I couldn’t believe my luck. I told him he would hear from me for sure.
My wheels spokes were pulling out.
With the advice from the bikeshop, I got off Highway 63 and took more rural and residential roads south towards Lake Poinsett State Park, my campsite for the night. Oddly enough, this was the week the cicadas came out. Cicadas are an incredibly obnoxious insect which only hatch every so many years. They are only alive for a few weeks when they do hatch but they make sure you know it. They fill the countryside by the millions and make a horrendous noise which sounds like a house’s security alarm going off, but with an organic pulse, the noise undulating in waves. They are about the size of your thumb with large orange eyes and big thick wings. As I rolled into the state park I hop off my bike and brush about a dozen off my panniers.
The lake was fairly murky and I held an internal debate on whether or not it would be more sanitary to go to bed sweaty or to wash in the lake. I decided to take a quick dip and then rinse with a sparse amount of water from my bottles. Despite being in a heavily forested area, my allergies were kept at bay that night and I slept without the protection of my rain fly. I was actually dozing well before 8:00 and slept the night away.
On the road.
My route.
Viscious killers. Chased me for a ways, thought I was going to die...
Poinsett State Park.
Bedside view.
Cleaning off the grime with grime.
Day 59: Lake Poinsett, AR to Memphis, TN 91 miles
Wednesday, June 3rd
With a new rear wheel and a finely tuned biking machine, I quickly made it to East Memphis, with only the Mississippi river between me and the city. The road there took me through farmlands that were covered in a fine June fog which made the wheat fields glow golden. One particular farmer, working on some sort of tracker, whistled at me and gave me the universal sign for drink, with his thumb pointing to his mouth and his pinky towards the sky. He was clearly offering me some water which I gratefully accepted. He informed me that Poinsett county, the county I was riding through, was the largest producer of rice in Arkansas, and that Arkansas was the largest producer of rice in the United States.
Early morning beauty.
I love the growth.
One of my favorite pictures.
Rustic.
Cicada! These guys were everywhere.
Southern signs.
As I entered the more urban East Memphis I discovered that, unfortunately, there was no bikable bridges nearby, and google maps was trying to take me on a 100 mile detour just to get into town. I briefly tried hopping on a major freeway into the city but quickly determined that was one step below suicide. My brother Kyle, whom had been living in Memphis for the past year and a half, called me and offered to pick me up. I shot him my coordinates via a live GPS feed on my phone (technology these days… wow) and he was there within twenty minutes to pick me up and take me across the bridge into the city. To my dismay, I had been a quarter mile on the freeway away from a pedestrian path. Oh well, better safe than sorry.
Now, let me tell you something about my brother. I consider myself a fairly intelligent person, through sheer luck I even somehow made it into medical school. However, my brother makes me feel like a simpleton. He is an uber intellectual, capable of speaking multiple languages including French and Arabic and whatever else he fancies that week. He has degrees in history and theology and French. As I threw my bike gear into his trunk I had to shove aside a mountain of books in order to do so. What we do share is a ridiculous completion for quoting movies, particularly comedies. Within five minutes of the drive we fall into step and have entire conversations without using a single original thought, it really is quite impressive.
That evening we joined his good friend Bo, a local youth leader, at a student ministry group night at a pastor’s home. As the local youth played in the pool and ate hot dogs I met with some of my brother’s friends. Eventually we would all gather and listen to him give a short lecture on the Pentateuch, the first five books of the Bible. Kyle and I would then head home and I would crash on Kyle’s pull out couch. It was nice being amongst family again, so nice in fact that I would decide to stay through the weekend.
My brother Kyle!!
The only groceries I requested.
Day 60 - 63: Memphis, TN
Thursday, June 4th – Sunday, June 7th
OK, so this was an incredibly eventful weekend and although I describe briefly what took place I’ll let the pictures tell most of the story. My brother and I spent our meals eating out at various Southern restaurants including Chick Fil-A, Cracker Barrel, Corkey’s, Central BBQ, and the Bass Pro Shop. Thursday we vegged out at his house before meeting up with my friend Olivia, whom I had met at WSU but was now working with Memphis Teaching Residency (MTR). We went out to some of Memphis’ famous BBQ joints for dinner before going to the Rec Room, a bar/video game arcade full of projected TV screens and video games of all sorts.
My friend Olivia and I getting some Jerry's Snow Cones.
At the Rec Room.
I hate losing Jenga.
Friday Kyle and I started out the day by going to the Bass Pro Shop which was located in a giant Pyramid downtown. It was essentially a giant bayou theme park, complete with allegators, giant carp, and catfish ponds. After having lunch there we drove out to Jonesboro where we met Wes, the pilot who offered to take me flying.
First mermaid I ever saw with a butt crack.
I hopped in his RV8 experimental aircraft and we flew over Arkansas for the better part of an hour. We did barrel rolls, flips, dives, and flew 50 ft. off the ground through an air race track created as a river wound threw some trees. After landing the plane, Wes took my brother up for a spin. While on the ground I met with Floyd, a helicopter pilot, who then offered to take me up in his gyro copter. We skimmed the corn fields around the airport at amazing speed as the wind from the rotor blades whipped through my clothes and across my face. After taking my brother up Floyd then offered us a helicopter ride. We couldn’t believe these guys’ generosity. It was an adrenaline filled afternoon, a once in a lifetime experience. I left the airport that day with cramps in my cheeks from smiling so much. I couldn’t help but think what the odds were of running into Wes a few days ago at the bike shop. It was more than luck, it was divine. That night Kyle and I would go see Tomorrowland at the theatre, icing on a perfect day.
Video I made of our day flying using my GoPro.
My pilot Wes.
Flying inverted.
Didn't fly this guy, but liked the plane.
Experimental means privately built.
Kyle decided to hop in the plane.
Kyle giving the thumbs up.
Floyd and me.
Gyrocopter.
Floyd coaching Kyle on the flight.
Saturday Olivia took me to the Memphis zoo and we saw lions and tigers and bears oh my! We saw an exotic bird show as well as a sea lion show. That night my brother and I walked down Memphis’ famous Biel street before attended a free concert in the park which had incredible lighting and a stunning sunset to boot.
Look at the human in its natural habitat...
It's dead?
Hungry Hippo.
Parrot sang the entire song Old McDonald.
I lost rock, paper, scissors so I had to take the plunge.
Biel Street.
Walking in Memphis... on Biel Street.
Concert at the park at Levitt Shell.
Sunday we went to church at River Oaks Reformed Presbyterian Church where we saw Bo, Kyle’s good friend and assistant pastor, lead communion. We also stayed for Sunday school and learned a little Apologetics 101, how to approach apologetics from the appropriate, Christian world-view. How being Christian isn’t about becoming good enough to not need Jesus, but about how being Christian is declaring that we’re not good enough and therefore need Jesus, and how that way people will be much more likely to give you a break when you screw up.
We spent the remainder of the day reading books (Kyle), napping (both of us), and blogging (me). It is going to be so hard to leave here. It has been the longest I have spent in any one place since departing Washington, but as I write this I feel the stirrings of restlessness. It is time to get back on the bike. Nashville, here I come.
A taste of my diet this weekend, good thing I'm biking across the country.