We Didn't Speak, We Only Moved and Were Moved Across the Landscape

What happened the next morning set a pattern which we couldn't shift for weeks: a late morning wake up, leisurely breakfast, coffee and conversation, before hitting the road in a semi-panicked stated around mid afternoon. If you know either of us you'll know we're kids and this new found freedom equated mostly to dreamy lie-ins at first. It wasn't a choice so much as an irresistible routine of later and longer adventures into the night followed by the inevitable bleary eyed mornings.

Despite this 'scooter lag' we still did a fair bit of cool stuff and by 'did' I mean saw. Sandy gave us a load of freedom but also in some ways limited us to two wheeled activities as we didn't have the energy or equipment after four hours on the road to, say, go hiking huge distances. This meant that most of the amazing things we did were actually what we saw, smelt, heard or felt on the bike. And boy did we witness some things!

A lonely gas station on the isolation that is the plains of the Delta farmland.

After a local frozen smoothie for lunch in a cute cupcake diner we set off north, crossing the Mississippi border without any hitch and keeping the wheels rolling. Past Port Gibson, Jackson, up the snaking mass of brown that barrels eternally from Minnesota down to the mouth of New Orleans, and into Greenville where we admitted we were pooped and searched out a spot for the night. Greenville by the way, for anyone considering a visit, isn't worth a piss stop. The name is a twisted joke when you arrive to grids of billowing litter, sirens calling out and third grade fast food joints skulking beside the four lane highways. Our field to pitch up was next to some radio aerials, opposite a drive through bank. We searched for some decent food to raise our spirits, in the end finding ourselves in Subway. Finally we found a decent cafe to get a hot chocolate for desert, but they were closing so we were shortly back outside amongst the dross. We got a free hot chocolate though which was kind of them. Getting an early night we vowed to leave immediately upon waking.

We bolted into Arkansas the next day, in search of humans with souls and good coffee. Crossing The Delta I found a depressing experience , with endless acres of dreadful lifeless soil and a brutal reminder of the vast deforestation that must have occurred previously. In our frowning stupor we inadvertently allowed the bag with our sleeping stuff to slip off the top box and melt enough on the exhaust to allow the sleeping bag to escape. Somewhere on that ghastly wilderness we left behind our sack of Walmart comfort. We were passed dangerously close by a crazed gesticulating woman who misjudged an oncoming car and nearly took us off the road. I wanted to get off this mad sad plain. We pulled way off the road to regroup and get our hearts ticking at normal pace and that's when we realised the bag had fallen out. Maybe she was trying to get us to pull over to give it back, maybe she was just a nutter - we'll never know.


Just before (or after, I forget) crossing the Mississippi River we took a route across gravelled dykes through wild wetlands. It was quiet and strange, and lovely. We were bumbling along at a steady pace on the loose stones, occasionally drifting precariously, but mostly just floating. In the physical sense, although quite free, we were still bound by the waters to our weaving road, but mentally we were unshackled. My mind drifted left and right, through treetops past marshes and down gently through grey sheet mirrors into murky unknowns. The physical freedom that travelling allows is trumped only by the mental freedom enjoyed. We didn't speak, but for a word or exclamation here and there, we only moved and were moved across the landscape.

A man at a very local shop gave us directions and we chatted about motorbikes, freedom, smelling the place you are in through a helmet. All the richness that two wheels can give you. He followed us out to our bike and seemed reluctant, with sad faraway eyes, to see us go. He spoke of his wife, the colour her hair used to be when they rode motorbikes together, how he would return from truck driving and she would have the bags packed and they would be gone... We left him there standing in the layby, his mind lost in decades past.

We came upon a town on stilts that was flooded in with the cars parked up on the raised road and the houses down in the water, all still functioning fine. This was a way of life so removed from the incessant cursed bustling of inner city life as to bear no resemblance at all. It was fantastic!


By now Little Rock was our target, specifically Kavanaugh Boulevard which turned out to be very 'hip' as the kids say. It's situated west of Little Rock town and South of Allsop Park which is a nice green space to enjoy. It's a kind of leafy suburbia, but with an injection of youthfulness and interesting independent cafés and shops that quash any possible dreariness. Mylo coffee house was our pick for refreshments and it was a good 'un. We spent our moneys on coffees and sweet fancies and smiled at trendy people. Falling into conversation with a friendly barista Aaron, when he noticed our helmets, before long we had a low down on the great points of Arkansas and a super recommendation on where to camp that night! He even offered a place for us to camp in his garden, but we were keen to get into some green space after our previous night. Great guy. We left Mylo buzzing slightly (with excitement of course!) and headed for the forests of the Ozarks.

Mylo is a sweet spot for kool kats.

Southern Arkansas is, topographically speaking at least, rather dull, but as you hit the hills which bulge upwards north of Russellville all that changes. The dreary flats ruck up into deep forested valleys and enchanted pathways squirrel away into the trees leading who knows where. The streams are astounding greens and turquoises and burning cold to the touch. The Ozark Mountains are in fact a "high and deeply dissected plateau" (thanks Wikipedia) covering southern Missouri, northern Arkansas, west into Oklahoma and touching upon Kansas. Spread over 47,000 square miles the Ozark highlands area is the largest mountainous area between the Appalachians and the Rocky Mountains. So a pretty amazing nature playground basically!

With the sun on our faces and the landscape before us, we had the best of times.

Hills upon hills looking across the Ozarks.
Realising we had a fairly essential item (the sleeping bag) missing from our sack.

We were getting jaded now by the impending darkness, a chill in the air and tiredness. We never made it to Aaron's isolated camp spot sadly, but where we ended up was brilliant enough. Just off the road but already into the woods, we had a jovial couple for campsite neighbours who would become great friends of ours in time. They began by feeding us so we should have known already they were great people! Scott and Linda were visiting from Kansas with a quad bike in tow to explore the woods together - how cool. They also had plans to canoe down a secluded river spot they discovered in the near future. We talked and talked that night, about adventures and nature and fun, and they said if we were ever in their neck of the woods we should stay over. The kindness of strangers just amazes us and really inspires to do likewise. We would take them up on their offer in a matter of days!

Our beloved shop with defrosting facilities.

Scott and Linda were gone early the next morning, or perhaps not even that early, but before we emerged at 10:30 at least! We had the camp to ourselves and I decided to have a bucket shower under the tap which was a big mistake. A cold spell had come in overnight and although the sun was out it was bitter. Bearing in mind we were still sporting our Florida summertime clothes, we were less than comfortable. We put on all we had, which was a pair of jeans, a jumper and a waterproof each and got on the bike to go explore. Great Odin's raven - it was cold! I was blue and shaking uncontrollably five minutes in. I hadn't been this cold since racing a bicycle in Belgium in hail in spring. Aby wasn't that happy either. It was rough. We stopped as soon as we could at Hankins Country Store and defrosted on the wood burner, absentmindedly browsing items so we could stay longer. It was a fascinating little place, built in 1922 with hunting trophies on the walls and old woodsman's tools hung up. Eventually we had to move on though and we were hungry, so we headed further up the road to The Cliff House Inn overlooking the Grand Canyon of the Ozarks. They had hot drinks, we weren't in the wind anymore and the view was amazing!

True happiness in the warmth of the Cliff House Inn, with a view of the Grand Canyon of The Ozarks behind


We also noticed on our way in a pair of Honda Goldwings, great big touring motorbikes, and when we sat down we were next to the couples on them. They struggled to understand the insanity that was our inadequate clothing. After talking a bit they wished us luck and headed off but moments later Carrie rushed back out of pity to tell us they could give us some extra motorbike clothing later in the day. We were so damned happy! That very afternoon we met up in a McDonalds car park down in Russellville for what felt like some kind of shady transaction but was actually the exchange of some woolly jumpers. Don gave me an old jacket of his, some waterproof trousers and some thermal socks and undershirts. Carrie gave Aby some brand new motorcycle boots(!) a bike jacket, thermals, socks and waterproof trousers. We couldn't believe our luck really, that amount of stuff would have set us back so much.


A brief conversation later and we all headed back for a tour of their awesome house which Don built himself, plenty of chat about travels, Aby took advantage of a hot shower (smart girl) and a sandwich dinner. I can't express how great they were, and so in love - it was really sweet to see. Finally it really was time we got going, being already dark and bitterly cold out and us having a half hour ride back to our camp. They gave us a spare bag and straps for all our new winter kit and we hummed back up their mysterious driveway and into the night.

DMD

No comments:

Post a Comment