Arkansas is the South of the Midwest and the Midwest of the South.

Jimmy Peacock

It was time for the last hurrah. It was years in the making. It was time…

for Arkansas. 

Catherine and I had been planning this trip since last year. More like we’d been talking about this trip since last year. We spent about an hour planning it one afternoon at work and sat back wondering what we were missing. The agony of planning our separate Canadian trips earlier in the year had really left us reeling. How could planning a trip be so easy? How could the process go so seamlessly? Surely something was wrong. 

In reality, it’s because Canada is a mess and they have a recycling bin in every hotel room and the worst deer signs ever.  

So, we quickly planned our trip, booked some hotels, and sat back and waited. While we were waiting, not much happened besides: Emma quit her job, had interviews every day, I quit my job, started a new job, quit that job, got engaged, planned my wedding, accepted another new job, and wondered whether I would find time to pack my bag before leaving. What did Catherine do while she waited? I’ve no idea. All I remember is that she was sulking and having withdrawal because she decided not to read any Amish books until we listened to Wanda on the trip. 

Somehow we all managed to get packed and throw our bags into Claude’s trunk by 6:30am on Monday, November 6. Yes, it was one day before the election day that was to determine the garbageosity of the people of Ohio. As we drove away, Emma remarked “It’s so weird to be going on vacation in November. This is so weird.” 

We turned on The Hawaiian Quilt once we were closer to Kentucky and it was everything I remembered it to be: terrible. A plane took off and another one landed as we drove past the Louisville airport. Eventually we made it to Mammoth Cave National Park and took some pictures with the sign! This was my second time visiting and we had tickets for the Domes and Dripstones Tour. We were hustled onto a green school bus and driven deep into the woods. The bus stopped and the doors opened. People started to get off and walk into the woods. I looked at Catherine and said, “This must be where the firing squad is waiting.”

Thankfully, all that happened was a descent into a sinkhole and a ranger beginning his presentation. Our tour guide ranger was quite entertaining and told us the story of Earl and how he was lowered into the cave by his uncle, who wanted to make big bucks giving tours. 

Finally, the ranger opened the door and we began our descent. This was an unexpectedly thrilling tour. We descended some twenty-seven stories down into the belly of the earth on rattling metal stairs drilled into tight spaces, sometimes hanging over a black, bottomless pit. Everyone was gripping the handrails. Occasionally, I would see cave crickets on the walls. I’d highly recommend this tour to anyone (besides small children) going to Mammoth Cave. The ranger said usually he has over 100 people on the tour, but our group was much smaller. We went on a Monday at 11:00am, so try for an odd time so your tour isn’t crammed. The tour’s final stop was the impressive Frozen Niagara formation. It’s huge. As we stepped back into the light of day, I said, “I never thought I’d be sad for a cave tour to be over, but now I am.” 

We tucked into our packed lunch – chicken salad on croissants. We kept exclaiming, why did we never think of this before? Why have we been eating wraps for years and secretly hating them? Why are we such fools? Here’s a hot tip: take chicken salad and croissants for a packed lunch instead of wraps. 

After a short hike to an overlook that turned out to be closed, we hit the road for our hotel in “Memphis.” It was actually in Collierville. Memphis is supposed to be pretty crime-ridden and a lot of the hotels had concerning reviews, so we found a hotel on the extreme outskirts of the Memphis metropolitan area. This part of the drive, between Mammoth Cave and Collierville, was simply the worst. The only meager excitement we got was driving through Nashville, which is not that exciting. I almost lost my marbles on this portion of the drive. “I feel like I’ve been driving for six hours and made no progress, but I’ve only been driving for two hours!” I shouted when I reached my breaking point. Finally, we pulled into a Cracker Barrel and stopped for a square meal. Catherine had called ahead and been assured that there would be no wait when we arrived – which you know means that there was a wait when we arrived. We waited and were finally seated. We got our food eventually and ate it. That’s all I have to say. 

I fell asleep and woke up in Collierville. We dragged our bags into the hotel (which was in a very nice neighborhood. The Fairfield Inn, Collierville.) and when we entered our hotel room, the TV turned itself on. Emma and I stared at it and Catherine loudly said, “TLC.” The TV wasn’t listening though, so it just sat on the menu. She had to use the remote (and she was having a great time with the remote) to turn on her beloved TLC later that evening. We were all disproportionately wrecked by being in Central Time just after Daylight Savings had ended, so we turned out the lights early. 

I roused the next morning to the sound of someone shuffling around in the hallway outside our room. I didn’t pay much attention, but then realized that the shuffling was happening closer than I’d thought. In fact, it sounded like it was in our room! I opened my eyes and watched as a dark figure slowly advanced into our room. I gasped loudly and the figure and I stared at each other. Finally my eyes narrowed and I said, “Is that you, Emma!?” It was her. I told her I thought it was someone breaking into our room and she said, “That’s the heart attack of a lifetime.” 

After this excitement, we shuffled down to the breakfast room and ate while trying to determine if an Asian businessman was wearing his shoes right or standing on the back of them while he was walking around?? He was standing on them??? I have no idea, man. 

We left the hotel and motored to the State Line Big John, which I had found as a tip on Roadside America (browse that website at your own risk, kids). This is a statue of a guy on the border of Mississippi and Tennessee. We took some pictures but did not exit the car as it was sketchy. 

After we got into Mississippi, it was pretty rural pretty quick. It was super flat and open and almost reminded me of South Dakota in some ways. It also had an air of mystery and danger. A plane took off basically from a cotton field about 2 feet from the road. There were random houses in a row in some of the fields. A huge casino loomed in the distance, almost mirage-like, but most of the side roads were acting like entrances to this place. There were a lot of gas stations that didn’t seem that bad. Finally, it was determined that we needed to stop for gas and the bathroom, and of course after that point all of the gas stations seemed like murder hotspots. 

We were headed to Moon Lake overlook so I just picked the only station en route to that and added it to our trip. Emma thought some car was following us for a minute. We pulled into the gas station and nervously laughed. The building was a low box, the windows and doors were all barred, and the clientele seemed shady. I hopped out of the car, ran around and threw the pump into action, and rushed back to the car. We watched some farmers pull up and walk in like it was Mayberry, leaving their dog in the bed of the truck. It probably wasn’t actually that bad, but we didn’t feel overly safe. 

We quickly decided we were not using the bathroom at this place and headed on to Moon Lake. This overlook was really cool! There were trees growing in the lake, which I think is fed/used to be fed by the Mississippi River. There was a sign on the dock that said, “No Diving. Swim At Your Own Risk.” We found this odd, but later learned that alligators can be present in any body of water anywhere in Mississippi, so I guess it made sense. 

We left Moon Lake and crossed the Mighty Mississippi into Arkansas! We pulled into the (quite nice) visitor’s center and used the bathroom. The woman here engaged us in conversation and asked where we were headed next. “The Monument in the Swamp,” we declared. She clucked and shook her head. “They just ripped the road out of there this morning. You can’t get to it.” We blinked and I said, “Is…is there any other swamp we can go to?” She stared at us then muttered something, the only word we picked up on was “cottonmouths.” I said, “Since we can’t go to this swamp, we’d like to see some kind of swamp while we’re here.” She seemed utterly confused on why three girls would want to go see a swamp. “We don’t have swamps in Ohio,” Catherine offered. Finally she began to get the idea that we wanted a swamp, so she pulled out a map and showed us where some were, cautioning us not to go into the swamps because of the cottonmouths. We said, okay, and she then proceeded to give us 9678 other ideas for things we simply had to do in our day and a half in Arkansas. We had to go to this place where you – yes you – can mine crystals! And then there’s this dam that creates the most beautiful waterfall! And Hot Springs is one of her favorite places on earth. 

She flipped through the Hot Springs guidebook and triumphantly presented us with what she said was her favorite page. “It’s the coupon page,” she said, smiling proudly as if it were her child at their first flute recital. There was a coupon for every activity we could have wanted to participate in down to the crystal mining. We said, “wow!” “how neat!” “so helpful!” and accepted the coupon book as if taking a newborn into our arms. We began to back away slowly, hoping to get away before she could start telling us where to go in the Ozarks. On the way out, I grabbed the free Arkansas Feral Pig Manual for 2023 for some light reading on the road. Once we were out of there, we took some time to collect our thoughts. We decided that we would head to the Monument in the Swamp just in case she was wrong and the road wasn’t torn up. It wasn’t out of the way so what had we to lose? 

We drove through Arkansas about 10 miles to the unassuming turnoff for Louisiana Purchase State Park. I must say, Arkansas has put some money into their state park entrance signs and I like it. Anyhow, we drove down this road for about half a mile and were greeted by a crew of road workers and a road closed sign. There was no advance warning of the closure. We somehow turned around on the one lane road and Emma and I switched drivers in the middle of the road. 

The drive to Little Rock was pretty basic. We went through some towns and some fields. Probably cotton fields, but we did learn that Mississippi grows sweet potatoes and Arkansas grows rice. 

We saw a massive church in Little Rock and I think it was Presbyterian. Either that or Pentecostal. Little Rock seems pretty nice. As we drove to Pinnacle Mountain State Park, our next stop, we saw many deluxe mansions. Once again we noted the fancy sign that greeted us at the border of the state park. We made our way to the Visitor’s Center where we were going to eat the last of our chicken salad and Emma was going to call some job people to see if they were ghosting her.  As soon as we got out of the car, some old guys who were walking through the parking lot greeted us with, “Nice day for a hike!” We nodded and smiled back at them and began the time consuming process of heading into the Visitor’s Center which always includes shuffling around the car while taking things in and out of your backpack and deciding whether or not to change into your hiking boots. While we shuffled, a woman walked through the parking lot. We barely looked at her but she chirped, “Nice day for a hike! Have a good time!” We looked at each other and continued going through our stuff. Finally, we were able to gather our crap together enough to carry our coolers to the picnic tables. One of the old guys from earlier was milling around the parking lot again and was quick to tell us in an excited voice, “There are some nice spots down there for your picnic!” We thanked him for the tip. Later, Emma said, “I just want to tell these people you don’t have to talk to us just because we’re here.” 

We picnicked then checked out the Visitor’s Center. They had a pretty nice museum area and I bought a tshirt. We then got back in the car and headed to our hike, the Pinnacle Mountain West Trail. I wasn’t too thrilled with the prospect of this hike as it promised a rock scramble. After Old Rag last year, I’ve pretty much signed off on all future rock scrambles. Emma and Catherine convinced me that it wouldn’t be that bad, and we set off. We spoke with some women on the way up who explained to us that there are signs telling you you’ve reached the next “level,” or the next 100 feet up. The hike gains about 750 feet in about ¾ of a mile. To be honest, it wasn’t that bad. Once we hit the final bit to get to the very top, the rocks were smaller and seemed pretty treacherous. We picked our way to the top and hung out there for quite a while. You could see downtown Little Rock in the distance. There were butterflies flying around, and a helicopter went past.

We headed back down. Catherine said, “Nice day for a hike!” to someone. Then we hit the road for the moment Catherine and I had been waiting for – Hot Springs!

I ordered pizza to be ready when we got to town and we made the trek from Little Rock to Hot Springs, about an hour I believe. It wasn’t a bad drive. Once we arrived in the town of Hot Springs, it was about what I had pictured. A bit run down, except for the National Park area and the downtown. We picked up the pizza and got to our hotel, the Gold Inn, only to find a cryptic message on the door. Eventually Catherine got ahold of them and we got into our room. It was one of those that at first glance is nice, but if you look too close you find things. At least it was clean. I talked to Derek on the phone then hung up and sadly found out Emma had heard from the job and found out they hired someone else. Rude! The next blow was finding out that Issues 1 & 2 both passed in Ohio. What a dumpster fire.

The next morning, we arrived at Hot Springs National Park. We strode up to the sign and Emma said… “Oh, I didn’t know this was a National Park!” Catherine and I simply stared at her in disbelief. Finally we made her take our picture with the sign and said she didn’t deserve her own picture with it. Just then a ranger came up and offered to take a picture with all three of us in it and we grudgingly allowed it. 

Part of me doesn’t want to recap Hot Springs just so it can be a wonderful surprise for you when you go there (because believe me, you will go there). Basically, there is hot water everywhere, a bathhouse to tour, many bathhouses to admire, a Grand Promenade to walk, and actually some hiking trails. There’s also a place to fill your water bottle with the spring water. We thoroughly enjoyed our visit to Hot Springs National Park and you will too, when you go there. And you will. 

After this, we were hungry and I was excited to motor to Mena, Arkansas to go to The Ouachitas for coffee and lunch. Adventures of A+K on Youtube visited here and it was the first restaurant I was going to on their recommendation. It was really nice! Emma and I bought tshirts and after we ate our lunch we got coffee to-go. It was delicious! Quite a nice surprise in this unassuming town. 

After lunch we got turned around by the GPS but quickly course-corrected and got onto the Talimena Scenic Byway! This is a 52 mile long road that starts in Mena, Arkansas and ends in Talihena, Oklahoma (although I never saw this town so the road ending there is a myth). This road is like a mini version of Skyline Drive in Shenandoah. The surprising and awesome thing is that for much of it, you’re right at or above the treeline! The pictures just don’t do the views justice. Do yourself a favor and do the Talimena Scenic Drive. 

Halfway through this drive we found ourselves in OOOOOOOKlahomawherethewindcomessweepingdowntheplainoklahoma. Yes, Emma turned that song on and it was stuck in my head the whole drive through the state. I felt almost the same way about Oklahoma as I did about Iowa last year. A general sense of “ah, I could live here and like it.” Nothing we saw was that grand or amazing, but the place seemed nice, comfortable, and conservative. The speed limits are high. The space is wide open, yet there are plenty of neighbors. It was a good time. I’ll be going back someday, maybe in a Uhaul. 

Sadly, we had to leave the safety and comfort of Oklahoma and head back into rough and ready Arkansas. We were staying in Fort Smith and wanted to stop at the Fort Smith National Historic Site, of course! 

We arrived about 30 minutes before closing time so the old guy ranger let us in for free and told us he liked to see our smiles as we entered the building. We walked into the jail area and a minute later a child walked in and was so startled by us that he yelped. 

Upstairs was the museum and it was quite a museum. Apparently all the action happened at Fort Smith back in the day. Over 80 unfortunate criminals were hung. The prison conditions were supposed to have been deplorable, however I’ll admit I didn’t read those signs that close. 

We headed out of the museum to check out the Gallows. This is a reproduction, but you can go up and under it to see the contraption under the floor which would drop open to complete the hanging. Quite chilling. We wandered the rest of the property but the sun was setting and we felt unsafe being out after dark so we plunged back into the car. 

Though none of us wanted to do anything but get to the safety of our hotel, we went to Walmart. It ended up being way nicer than we expected. Our hotel was also in a nice, safe area. If you can’t tell, we weren’t overly impressed by Fort Smith, Arkansas. We spent the rest of the evening in our hotel room, watching TLC clips on YouTube (once again the hotel didn’t have TLC…).

The next morning, we packed up all our earthly belongings and threw them once more into the trunk of Claude/Clyde. Today, we were headed for the Ozarks. A very pretty drive indeed, and it was peak time for the leaves even though the fall foliage prediction map told us we were past peak. 

We made it to our first stop of the day, the Boxley Valley Historic District. This didn’t end up being a stop because it was just a valley you drive through and try to spot elk. If you think we saw any, you don’t know us. The only one we saw was stuffed in the Elk Education Center, where we stopped to get a map. We walked out of this building into a rainstorm. We’d been advised not to do our planned hike, the Centerpoint to Goat Trail, as it would be dangerous if wet. After talking it over in the car, we pointed Clyde towards the Centerpoint to Goat Trail and threw caution to the wind. 

It ended up being totally safe on the cliffs as they were protected by an overhang. The views from the cliffs were beautiful and the rain added an air of mystery. We snacked and then headed back to the car. This was a SLOG as it was uphill for 3 miles through the rain. It was one of those experiences that makes you vow to never hike again. Finally, we made it to the car and decided to go back to the Elk Education Center and tell the woman that told us not to do the hike that we’d done the hike. Maybe we were all just a bit loopy at this point on the trip, but this is exactly what we did. Three drowned rats advanced into the Elk Education Center, loudly announced, “We did the Goat Trail,” and proceeded to the bathroom. 

After this, we decided we were satisfied with our one and only hike in the Ozarks as the rain was still pouring down. We headed to our tiny haus in Mansfield, Missouri, and the route took us through Branson. To be honest, I was underwhelmed. I was expecting it to be like Gatlinburg, but all I saw from the interstate was a billboard for the Dixie Stampede and a Home Depot. 

Surprisingly, Missouri is actually a lovely state. I felt at home, safe, and carefree in Missouri. We finally pulled into our tiny haus and it was Emma’s dream come true. It was nice to have somewhere to spread out after all our hotel nights.

After getting settled, we headed into town to one of the only restaurant options: Vaccaro’s Pizza and Pasta. This was a typical small town Italian joint. Big portions, low prices, and interesting conversations happening in the next booth. Catherine was cracking up over an old man who wouldn’t stop talking. 

We made it back to our haus without incident and I headed to the shower, where I stepped in and found I could barely stand up straight without brushing my head on the ceiling. I turned and found myself at eye level with the shower head. It was an interesting experience. (But nowhere near as hilarious as Tekarra Lodge.)

On our final night away from our homes, Catherine chose a wonderful show for us to feast our eyes on: Amish Mafia. All I can say is: someone shot up a volleyball to show who was boss and there was a Mennonite mud party. 

The final day of our trip was perhaps the most looked-forward-to. We were going to Rocky Ridge Farm! But first, the cemetery. Laura, Almanzo, and Rose are all buried here. The drive to the cemetery from our tiny haus was strangely similar to the drive to the cemetery in De Smet. Down a gravel road, through some farms and cows, around a bend, then suddenly we were in the town. 

After our cemetery visit, we made our way to the visitor’s center to buy our tickets for the tour. Both the Rocky Ridge farmhouse and the Rock House are tourable on this property for $17. We looked through the museum for a while before our tour and an old woman basically made Emma her honorary granddaughter. Finally, it was time for our tour. The farmhouse was first and it was very enjoyable. Here’s some pictures: 

Next, we decided to take the walkway to the Rock House which the guide assured us would only take about 5 minutes and get us to our tour in time. It ended up being almost a mile and took us the full 10 minutes; we ran the last part and just made the tour. We joined a family that were definitely homeschoolers on this one and came this close to asking them to confirm it. Their son, who was about 8, saw a dry-looking book on the shelf about Henry Ford and exclaimed excitedly, “Mom, take a picture of this so we can find it on Amazon!” 

After the short tour of the Rock House, we went back up the path to the visitor’s center and finished going through the museum. This was quite possibly the nicest Little House museum we’ve been to yet. They had so many of the real items owned by the Ingalls family mentioned in the books. Here are just a few: 

We perused the gift shop, made our purchases, and hit the road. At this point we had decided not to go to “The Arch” because Emma and Catherine had already been there and I had lost my desire to run around a big city. We picked up some coffee and McDonald’s and hit the road. It was a pretty uneventful trip home. The next day I woke up feeling refreshed and relaxed and wondered why I didn’t feel like I needed a vacation from my vacation. It was a nice feeling, though. 

All in all, the states we visited can be summed up like this: Mississippi feels like the South, Arkansas feels like the South, Oklahoma feels like the West, and Missouri feels like the Midwest. I liked Oklahoma and Missouri best and would like to go back to Oklahoma out of all of them. I don’t think we would have felt as unsafe had there been a guy with us in Mississippi and Arkansas. It was a fun trip, and likely the last weeklong trip we’ll take together for a while. It’s been a good ride.