Vignettes: 329'13

Vignettes

 

329'13

Good Friday sound check

a little late tonight, a front house party with Earl and them.

Can see and hear them the time or two the door to the back opened

no admittance while they prepare, the band.

A good night to rock and remember

the songs of the formative years.

McMurtry remembers Middle Earth as I remember it

flyover, crossroads between coasts.

The aged red bricks of George's

75 plus years of experience, standing sentinel

to the changes to this corner.

Frisco depot across the street, long past its usefulness

its form endures the death of its function.

The line is Ar Mo today, lays a good bass line for the performers as it passes.

Down the hill from the university,

Dickson has sizzled lately, though, it literally sizzled by

McCulloch's order in the dark days of war.

Passing armies, brigands, outlaws, westward trekkers, native peoples driven from home

driving true natives from these their homelands.

Trails, homesteads, hideouts, gristmills

industry, agrarians, pastorals, handiwork,

loggers, bankers, railroaders, charlatan curers, drummers.

 

Good Friday on Dickson, a good crowd for a holiday weekend

McMurtry's band is in good form

rather sparse crowd, not complaining.

A great night for live music a treat after the storms of the morning postponed sunrise,

turned into a pleasant spring day.

Few are from here, come from somewhere far away

McMurtry sings about our home like no other,

this ain't Levelland, but you can see it from here.

Life and death at a crossroads bar,

the future's present and past,

it's all alive here.

The street that could easily have died from neglect and blight

the heart of culture in the second cultural capital of Arkansas.

The many faces of Dickson: war on the east end, wars ravages for its entirety 150 years ago,

Colleges west and east ends,

warehouses, private houses, drug stores, churches, graveyard tucked behind,

restaurants, a courthouse, frat house, Old Main, a sampling of life in toto.

Has been a great year of entertainment at George's,

nice to have great touring bands so close to home share their music here.

American music, self-examining, pragmatic levity in the sound-byte age,

music expresses idea like no other medium.

It is far too late or early in this case to spend more time in reflection,

sleep is the prescribed remedy for a racing mind.

Ryan Bingham is the next George's experience for me, unless I attend the Blues shows next weekend,

not sure, but a strong possibility. 

Have never liked the Blues scene here, spoiled by Helena's past,

took me time to embrace culture of my hometown,

much easier to be critical from afar,

sad to see it suffer impoverished, nearly forgotten.

Glad to be in Fayetteville.

BB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kansas fun

My last opportunity to travel long distances has come and gone. So sad not to be able to travel full time, but life intervenes. This trip to the Plains had a solemn duty in mind, which could easily have led to an embarrassing arrest. My wife's father died in 2002, but his dog, Troubles, a Boston terrier, lived another 9 years, before Mrs. _____ had the dog put down. My wife's sister wanted to bury Troubles' ashes above her father's plot. Oh what fun! A graveyard within sight of some busy roads of Marysville, KS, an old crossroads in the northern part of the state isn't the best place to take a shovel if you aren't the gravedigger. My wife's sister was having trouble breaking the drought-parched earth, so I had to dig the hole in our gray activity, but the Tuesday Morning urn had an ample resting place for the ashes of Troubles, back with the human he loved so much.




We survived the incident with no trouble from an angry sexton wondering why three folks in broad daylight were digging a hole in a graveyard. The final touch for the solemn occasion was to glue a Boston terrier figurine on Doc's part of the headstone he'll share with Mrs. _____ when her time comes. Not sure how she'll react to a plastic figurine on her headstone. She still knows people in the hometown who would report the fact. She'll get over it; these are her children's works. Our trip for that day would lead us to another Pony Express station, a reproduction of Rock Creek Station (Pawnee), near Fairbury, NE, where Bill Hickock committed a possible murder in his younger years over the purchase of the station. On our way, we passed Wamego and were trapped into taking a tour of the Old Dutch Mill displays. Too bad the Oz Museum wasn't open that day.



The western phase of the October trip this year took us through Lyons, Great Bend, and on to Hays for a couple of days. The Cornado-Quivira Museum in Lyons tells the story of the Santa Fe Trail and the Coronado entrada, which coincided with Hernando de Soto's entrada from Florida, passing through Arkansas encountering important Mississippi River villages Pacaha (Wapanocca?), Casqui (Parkin?), Aquixo (Horseshoe Lake?), and Quizquiz (Walls, MS?). Both parties wound up in Texas encountering Caddo tribes. The Quivira lived at Lyons in the 16th century and are a Caddoan tribe encountering Coronado who followed the rudimentary Santa Fe Trail, a migration route into the late 19th century. The museum had an excellent selection of books on the period and selections on more recent history of the region. Was a pleasure to compare notes on the expeditions of 1500s by the ruthless Spaniards. It was the true beginning of the end for native cultures in North America. Disease from Europeans and warfare with Europeans would last another 400 years until their virtual extinction.



The next town was Great Bend, passing by Ft. Zarah, named after Maj. Gen. Samuel Curtis' son who was killed at Baxter Springs, KS by Quantrill's guerrillas as part of Maj. Gen. Blunt's fateful trip from Ft. Scott to Ft. Smith. Curtis lead an expedition along the Santa Fe Trail after the native uprising of 1864 across the Kansas plains and founded this dugout fort. Had a great stop at a coffee shop in town and I suppose we were in the "office" of a very busy community activist. She bought a cup for a fellow who happened by and was a bank officer who supported an event she organized. Every town requires such people. Maybe I should have bought her a cup of coffee for her work to better her community. It was a good visit, but we reserved a room in Hays and continued the lengthy trip from Emporia, where we'd stayed for a couple of nights.



Hays is in the Smoky Hill River valley and was home to Ft. Hays in Frontier days. It was a good visit, then we visited the Sternberg Museum, where the famous "fish-within-a-fish" fossil is displayed. The museum explains the natural history of this part of Kansas, which was the floor of a shallow sea millennia ago. We would not be able to go as far west as hoped on this trip, the Fick Fossil Museum is in Oakley, not too far from Colorado. I wanted to visit Colby and Goodland as well as Pueblo ruins to the south and the Ft. Wallace site. Till next time.



A real treat of the trip was visiting Salina, though we pushed on to Abilene for the night to the east. We spent most of the day in Salina after a quick visit to Kanopolis and Ft. Harker and Mushroom Rocks State Park. While in Salina, we witnessed a fuzzy headed, fuzzy bearded fellow in mirrored shades, a likely candidate for being up to no good, driving a white1980s vintage Mustang GT. The shady character was turning onto a busy highway from a side street with a mattress wedged under his car. What on earth could he have done to manage that? It looked more like the boxed springs of a bed. He was skidding his wheels a bit because the bed was lifting his car as he attempted to turn. He made a wide turn onto the highway as folks were trying to pass the mattress which protruded about six feet into the passing lane as he turned. Last I saw of the fuzzy, mirrored shades 70's refugee. But the mattress or boxed springs was in the middle of the road with what appeared to be about 5 quarts of oil saturation when we passed by again. Maybe he removed his oil plug with the massive road obstruction. Not sure what that dude was on to run over a mattress in broad daylight on a quiet side street.



Downtown Salina was a treasure. The century old buildings, the towering grain elevator , Mokas coffee shop, the Stieffel Theatre, the Thursday night art crawl, and the beauty of downtown Salina will certainly earn another visit by my wife and I, perhaps next year. I loved what I saw of this town. The Smoky Hill Museum, around the corner from Cozy Inn, the quirky little burger joint where the slider was born was a fun visit. The Museum had a great selection of books on Kansas history and was a free museum, which is a treasure for the community and I would recommend a visit. On to Abilene for a night's stay. On our way to Abilene, an important terminus of the Chisholm Trail until the rail was spurred to Newton to the south.



Abilene is most famous for the Eisenhower Presidential Library, but I wasn't there for 20th century history just yet. Abilene's Old Cow Town is a joke, much like Dodge City's joke of a "tourist attraction". The treasure of Abilene for this trip was the American Indian Art Center. I've never seen such a selection of books about veritably every tribe in North America. In the least, every region had selections on the shelves. I could have bought at least 50 books in this place and still have a bunch I wish I'd bought. The art and jewelry selections were cool too and my wife bought a decorative piece. I must return there next year, hopefully. Maybe next time I'll visit the Eisenhower Library.



The final weekend of our journey took us to Clay Center, not far from the Nebraska border. From there, we traveled to Concordia to see the National Orphan Train museum, dedicated to remembering the estimated 200,000 children shipped to the Plains and middle America from the east along the train corridors. It was a sad place, but offered the stories of their finest successes. Many of the featured orphans survived a hundred years of life and relatively happy lives. However, the museum didn't avoid the failures, such as the children returned to the benevolence organizations which placed them for ridiculous offenses, such as reaching for a handful of jelly from a cellar, or childless couples who adopt a child, then return the child once they conceive their own offspring. The next day, we visited Manhattan on game day against Mizzou. I always love visiting Aggieville and visited the Dusty Bookshelf, where my wife's father would buy his western fictions. I found a few good books about Nebraska and not a single Kansas Historical Quarterly. I was hoping to score a number of valuable historical periodicals on Kansas history, as I find a good selection of used Arkansas Historical Quarterly periodicals at Dickson Street Bookstore here in Fayetteville. It's always fun to visit Manhattan and game day with some much needed rainfall in the region made for a good day, plus my wife's sister and Bob wanted to try the Cozy Inn slider joint franchised in Manhattan, I suppose. The Salina Cozy Inn didn't mention the location at Aggieville, so more oniony burgers, don't even ask for a cheeseburger, for the week.



The trip back to Fayetteville took us through Emporia, again. We visited my wife's mother before our return. We bought a lot of books and enjoyed the visit to the Flint Hills and the Plains. The only sad commentary was the discovery that Tallgrass Prairie had scrapped their bookstore, although they were building a new visitor center and we were told the new gift shop wouldn't be the bookstore they once had. I love that site, but I'm disappointed. At least Town Crier, a bookstore in downtown Emporia, had some of the selection the Prairie once offered. Much fun. I love this state, as I love every state I have visited over the years. Some states I enjoy more than others, but I always manage to find something good about a place to overcome the shortcomings. Can't wait for my next trip next spring. Arkansas, Mississippi, Tennessee, and Alabama are likely places for that week of travel.

The Plains

Vacation time again.  The Kansas Plains await.  Not sure exactly where I'm going, but I want to see Hays, Great Bend, McPherson, Oakley, Colby, and Goodland.  Museums and historic and natural sites abound in the region and I'm looking forward to buying books at their shops.  From Emporia, we hope to visit Lawrence, Junction City, Abilene, Topeka, and Atchison.  Probably will need to cut some destinations from the schedule, but not too many.  I must see the Kansas Historical Museum in Topeka to check out their book selections.  If not, I'll make up for it at the other bookstores.  Most of the historic sites and museums in Kansas have some thoughtful people selecting and buying the books to sell.  Ft. Hays, Ft. Riley, Ft. Zarah, and Ft. Riley are the military sites I want to see.  College towns are always attractive to me and Lawrence is no exception.  Manhattan is a neat little town where Kansas State University sets and I've been through there a few times.  Lawrence, however, is more reminiscent of Fayetteville and I enjoyed my last visit.  My late father-in-law called KU campus Snob Hill (he was a K-State grad), but he liked the town. 

I had so much fun in central Tennessee last spring, but missed out on spending much time in Oxford. We ate lunch at Ajax and had a book-buying binge at Square Books and Square Books Jr. before heading over to West Helena to visit family, but we wanted to spend a few days visiting Mississippi sites.  We may spend our 2 week vacation on the Plains next year because Nebraska, Wyoming, Colorado, New Mexico, and Montana are high on my list of visits.  I need to buy some books on the mining industry because my railroad study now requires understanding the history of mining, particularly in the West.  There's a salt mine museum in Salina I would love to visit; never enough time or money for everything I want to do.  My wife needs to find outlets to sell her purse designs in the West because her purses with scenes from the Plains have sold.  It seems to me we need to find some fairs and festivals where she can set up and sell her portable works of art. 

The Prairie Grove Clothesline Fair attracts buyers of Western art locally and she needs to sell her wares there for sure.  The ideal for future vacations is to bundle book-buying sprees, historic site and museum visits with sales opportunies for her functional artwork.  We're exploring some 30 day vacations in the future, but we're still learning to plan the perfect North American vacation.  I need to follow the SFT all the way to Sacramento, down the American River by steamship to San Francisco some day.  My study of the SFT has been a rewarding experience and I'm hopeful of a spectacular conclusion that I'll treasure forever. Planning and executing a vaction plan requires time and effort.  This vacation has required several weeks so far.  Facebook has been an invaluable tool in checking out potential sites to visit as well as the state atlases.  I'm ready to buy an rv and travel the roads of this continent.  Canada is definitely on the list with their interesting 19th century history on their western plains and mountainous regions.  Can't wait!

Fear/Pity

Saw a black cat outside his door. Did he own the cat? Not sure. Every day since his body was found in the woods near his apartment, the cat crouches outside the door where the fella' living there would give it water, milk, or table scraps. The property owner wasted no time in hammering the "For Rent" sign on the front lawn and removing the bowls that had been set out for the cat. Before his obituary posted, the sign was in the yard.




Not from here, he just lived here. Most folks come from somewhere far away in this boomtown. The region has benefited from the largess of some huge global corporations. Many were brought here despite their wishes in an economy which requires keeping the job you have. Very few jobs offering actual retirement plans these days are to be found. Not sure what brought this fella' to town, possibly the university. Always a lot of frustrations and broken hearts in a town where a major university is located. Grad. programs attract the folks with the most to lose in failure to receive the degree. A whole life's planning could be flushed down the toilet.



The property owner must have been relieved that the troubled renter ended it all in the woods and not in the apartment, like some. No need to clean up or disclose such events, limiting the pool of potential renters who get "creeped out" by ghosts and such. Not sure if I'm not sympathetic to the "creeped out" sensation. No one wants to be in such a state as to want to do mortal harm to oneself and the possible presence of a wandering spirit could promote unrest in the future inhabitants of the apartment. Folks like Albert Camus have written about the ethical ramifications of such an action. I agree with his thoughtful assessment in Myth of Sisyphus, The Rebel, or The Plague. Death needs no help in doing its dirty work. Humans who aid and abet death are guilty of complicity in an evil act. Sound thoughts from one of the world's treasures, his life cut short in an automobile accident. He survived the Nazis and their Vichy co-conspirators while in North Africa during World War II only to die on the peaceful roadways in France years later. Had the poor hopeless fella ever read Camus or the passages in the Bible where Haman hung himself or Judas? These were desperate men reacting to their existential duties in the grand scheme: Mutual arising (Zen and the art of Occidental/Oriental fusion).



Nevertheless, kitty misses him. It's certain his family back home miss him too. Why? The storm and stress of life claims another relatively young victim. Compassion and love are required for folks who feel the need to die in this manner. Life is worth living and worthy of defense from the inevitable. Fear, pity, and longing were too much to bear for yet another soul. Adieu.

Middle Tennessee

I can't believe the vacation has ended and I'm back to the grind of mere survival again.  Luckily, we missed all the really bad weather around Nashville, where we stayed for 8 days on West End on Vanderbilt campus.  Had a lot of fun in Middle Tennessee where the historically significant sites abound.  We took several side trips in the Nashville vicinity.  Dickson, TN, for instance, has a wonderful new museum dedicated to its railroad past.  Grant ordered the completion of that stretch of the rail during the war. Tennessee state parks are a true rival of the wonderful parks in AR. Tennessee state parks are well-maintained and exhibit a lot of pride and concern for publicly-owned places.  I will be back if I live so long.

Pinson Mounds in Jackson is where we began the vacation.  Saul's Mound is a spectacular piece of remaining evidence of pre-entrada life in North America.  The nature trail was in a sad shape after the first wave of bad storms for that region, but a ranger had cleared the worst obstructions on his own time(Thank you!).  It was a beautiful Sunday morning and was nice and cool, but still warm enough for my wife to take several shots of a snake in the grass.  Along the I-40 corridor are signs for the TN historic sites, like Parker Crossroads, Johnsonville, and several others.  Really enjoyed all the little side trips on the way to Nashville.  My goal on this trip was to follow Maj. Gen. Cleburne to his death at the cotton gin at Franklin, TN, so I was eager to get there ASAP.  Franklin is reminiscent of Fayetteville, but with much more wealth accumulated.  Carter House, Lotz House, and Carnton Plantation are must-see locations on the south of city center.  The bookstores and the staff are knowledgeable and helpful to the cause of understanding the past.  10,000 Americans reported as casualties in 5 hours is a horrible thought to behold.  A shameful waste of America's best citizens and recent arrivals.  The Civil War was a horrible occasion that I had to temper with a visit to a pre-Civil War historic site, the James K. Polk ancestral home at Columbia, TN. 

Interestingly, Polk's presidency is considered to be the beginning of the end of the the unified nation, since he launched the war with Mexico that opened the rest of the continent to European and African settlement.  The newly settled areas, wrestled permanently from native inhabitants and the Mexican government, would want to organize as territories and states where the issue of legalizing or banning slavery would become an issue.  The slavery v. abolition factionism had existed since the very beginning of our democratic republic.  The issue raged from 1788 to 1865 when ultimately the issue was resolved through bloodshed.  Nevertheless, Polk house was still a respite from the gruesome actions of war.  The widow Polk remained in the home throughout the Civil War and she was on neither side.  Her husband was the president of the entire United States. Understanding the Mexican War is important for understanding the Civil War, so I begin that series of readings with a visit to Polk's home. 

A great bookstore at the site boasts the friendliest guides and a pretty house and grounds to tour in a beautiful town that cast a broad shadow over  Helena's past.  Lucius Polk was a Confederate brigadier general Helena claims, though he was from Columbia vicinity.  Gideon Pillow, a Columbia native, owned two plantations in Helena and his brother Jerome Bonaparte was a resident during the Civil War, where he looked after the plantations requisitioned by Maj. Gen.(later) Curtis where the Union authorities housed freed slaves (contraband, as described in the day) and put them to work on Pillow's lands.  Lt. Gen.(post Civil War) Sherman mentioned the Pillow complaints in his autobiography and was appalled that a Confederate general in rebellion against the U.S. would petition a U.S. general on campaign against the rebellion to enlist his aid in receiving compensation for mules and other assets lost in the Union war effort to subdue his rebellion.  Jerome had taken the oath of allegiance by then, so he was allowed to stay.  Gideon Pillow was a political player of note among the Jackonian proponents of the national Democracy.  He was instrumental in the nomination and subsequent elections of James K. Polk and Franklin Pierce (a brigadier general during the Mexican War along with Pillow).  St. John's Church at Ashwood was built at the point where all the Polk plantation property lines met.  It's a nice church and graveyard.  I've been reading about Bishop Leonidas Polk (killed at Kennesaw Mountain and nephew Lucius was severely wounded again) who presided as Missionary Bishop of the Southwest, then Bishop of Louisiana in the Episcopal church.  He was also credited with founding the University of the South, though it opened after his death.  Helena's history, despite my absence, is still rather important to me and Columbia, TN was important to pre-Civil War Helena's history as well as the nation.  Nashville to Columbia was a crucial stretch of road where there was a large accumulation of wealth that was home largely to Jacksonian Democracy advocates.  Memphis was a center of Whig advocates and the mountains of Tennessee were Johnson country.  Andrew Johnson would certainly have an interesting run in American political history.

My wife and I spent a great deal of time along the old pikes extant during the war.  I will begin studying the Battle of Nashville that was scattered through various locations  and will be a bit more of an effort to study, so I will have to return someday.  Plenty of reading on the subject should lead me in the right direction.  The catastrophe of the Army of Tennessee in the last days of 1864 and the poor leadership of Lt. Gen. Hood is sad to ponder on a strictly human level.  Certainly, the politics of the war boiled down to moral issues, under a cloud of legal issues, but the humanity lost and scars that remained are important to me to remember. So many suffered the most shocking of reversals and ends during the conflict. In northwest Arkansas, there were no battles fought on the scale of Franklin and Nashville, but the human toll was nearly unbearable in the power vacuum that resulted from small numbers of occupying troops and the lawless wilderness full of bushwhackers and "guerrillas" who claimed allegiance to both sides of the conflict.  Misery and death were widespread throughout the battleground states. 

The Civil War was important to me in this trip, but not so much from my wife's perspective.  Cheekwood Gardens and Museum is one of the gems of the region.  A visit there will keep you busy for an afternoon.  I've tried my hand at gardening and my yard still looks as if it was once carefully maintained(careful embellishment).  When I've had time, digging in the soil and promulgating life was an enjoyable exercise.  Life is preferable to death in my view, and I hope most humans feel the same way.  We must have taken hundreds of photos of the grounds (no photography in the galleries, however); Rebecca probably took at least 90 percent of the photos.  Nashville has been a cultural center of the Middle South for generations and a city of such prestige should have its share of great museums and botanical gardens.  I regret not making it to Frist Museum, the Tennessee State Museum, Fisk University (Crystal Bridges?), the Parthenon, the Vanderbilt museum, the Hermitage,....(the list of regrets could be rather long, after several months of visits for Tennessee because there are so many worthy activities and sites)

Ernest Tubb Records, Ryman Auditorium, and the thoughtfully mixed architecture of downtown,  ranging from mid-19th century architecture to modern glass and steel high-rises, were fun destinations we visited.  It's nice to see the riverfront predominated by the old, while spires in the sky are tucked behind the old districts enhancing the view.  Urban "renewal" hadn't destroyed the past as effectively as cities like Memphis and Little Rock.  It was unbelievable to fathom the thought that the old Ryman was nearly demolished.  What a tragedy that would have been.  It must be holy ground because it experienced a miracle in its survival, and those gorgeous stained-glass windows beam today in the sunlight.  The banks of the Cumberland were tame during our stay, but not so long ago the place was under water.  Hardly noticed evidence of the disaster.

Centennial Park is a beautiful part of the west end of the city and was full of life, particularly joggers from Vanderbilt and surrounding neighborhoods and we were happy to take a walk and take lots of pictures of the arboretum on the grounds of the Parthenon.  Natchez Trace Parkway is a truly remarkable biking magnet for the intense roadriders.  It would be a bit of a challenge for folks like me who get all their mileage in the saddle of a mountain bike.  I will need an actual roadbike to have a great time on the Trace.  I enjoyed hiking practically every hiking trail from the northern origin to near the AL border during our stay.  There were hundreds of photo opportunities along the Parkway.  The Trace all the way to Natchez is a month long visit in the least to do everything related to the Parkway.  The sidetrips to the neat towns and historic sites could require a visit of several months.

Things happened and our trip had to be cut short, however, I'm not complaining.  We had to cut through Helena to see family and my brother, who had taken ill during our trip.  I decided to avoid I-40 the day of our return from Nashville and opted to take I-65 south to Hwy 72 through AL and MS to Hwy 278 because no rain was expected and it was a beautiful drive.  We just missed the worst of the rain as it reached Nashville.  The day after we passed through AL and MS, the tornado outbreak destroyed much of the lovely sun-splashed landscape we saw as we drove the previous day.  At least we got to visit a favorite city of my wife and I, Oxford, MS.  I love Ajax and 208 on the square.  208 has the best duck soup next to the one my wife made with pure duck stock (not chicken or beef or any other stock or broth).  Ajax had excellent home-cooking along with some really good cheesy grits.  Square Books and Off Square Books are favorite bookstores.  I usually stock up on Hannah, Faulkner, and Welty, but only had time for several photo books and Barry Hannah novels I hadn't seen stocked anywhere in Fayetteville.  Not real proud of our first graduate of the MFA writer's program at UA apparently, since the new UA Bookstore on Garland didn't have any of his books in the UA graduate or professor's section of the shelf.  Sad.  One of the great Southern fiction writers of our day should be on their shelf. 

On our way back to Fayetteville from Helena, we were caught by one of the weather systems that nearly destroyed the Southeast, but all the tornadoes had been spotted north of I-40. We still encountered some harsh winds at Brinkley.  Rebecca was born and raised in one of the worst tornadic regions, KS, and she was deeply troubled about this storm, but we made it.  No hidden tornadoes at nightfall twisted us to death at least this time.  We have a penchant for driving through floods and tornadoes on our return trips from vacations.  Hwy 166 and Route 66 in southern KS and SW MO was flooding on our way back from Dodge City a couple of years ago, but we made it to AR before a stretch of road we followed south from Joplin was closed because of flash flooding.  All-in-all we had things happen to our vacation that was suited to saving our necks in harsh weather, so no complaints about cutting our vacation short in Tennessee.  I missed Old Stone Fort in Manchester, Stones River Battlefield in Murfreesboro, and Chucalissa Village in Memphis.  I had planned trips to Parkin, Wilson, and Wapanocca to see entrada sites, but another day I hope will lead us to those historic places. 

We took a lot of photos, bought a bunch of books and enjoyed the cultural center of the Middle South and I was glad to have taken this trip.  Tennessee, Mississippi, and Alabama are calling my name.  I must visit every possible site in all those states, including my home state AR before I draw my last breath, or my life's mission will have been a failure.  We missed all the decent live music of Nashville because no one we like was performing, except Marty Stuart at the Opry with god-knows-who.  Lady Gaga was performing whatever ritual of screeching at the moon (I'd rather hear Hank Williams howl at the moon) with canned noise she describes as music at the Bridgestone; we opted to no-show (just like Goerge Jones) that venue for the evening. 

We remedied our dearth of live music performances by pre-ordering tickets to Billy Joe Shaver and Lucinda Williams at Fayetteville, so we had a musical treat to top off our two weeks of bliss-away-from-home on our last Sunday night of vacation.  Just an old chunk o' coal down at Green Gables hawkin' them tables honky tonk heroes like me wacko from Waco is my love still in Helena eatin' sweet potato pie I changed the locks on my front door born and raised in Pineola from Nagacodoches that's in East Texas not far from the border but he told everybody he was from Lake Charles... a great night for words and writers and excellent musicians.  Two weeks well spent.  If only we lived longer, worked less, and could play more with limitless funds.  Ah, the life of leisure.  Live life every day. 

Fayetteville, May 8, 2011

BB

Buffalo River memories

Dr. Neil Compton, through the 1960s fought to save the Buffalo River from dam-nation, as planned dams in Searcy County would have turned the river into a lake.  Thankfully, his efforts were not in vain.  Some of my best memories were created along the river throughout my lifetime.  I have certainly received the benefits of Compton's struggle to save the crown jewel river of Arkansas which attracts paddlers from throughout the Midwest and the world.  I know for a fact that one Dutch citizen has paddled the river, since I paddled tandem on a church trip with an exchange student (Raymond Frenken) from Central H.S. in W. Helena in the 1980s.  Certainly, more folks from around the world have ventured to our state to enjoy nature at its best in that river valley.

When I lived in W. Helena, my family and my church took several trips to the lower section, usually taking out at Rush Landing, a ghost-town from mining days the National River protects.  I enjoyed all the trips in those days and I was eager to see more.  At this point in my life, the only section of the Buffalo I haven't paddled is the prettiest and most remote below Boxley, the Mt. Hersey to Gilbert section.  The most remote section of the Buffalo is actually referred to as Hailstone River, beginning at the confluence of Reeves Fork and Big Buffalo Creek near Fallsville, near the intersection of Highway 16 and Highway 21 in southern Newton County.  The beginning of the Buffalo is a beautiful section to experience.  It is approximately a 15 to 20 mile stretch in some wild water and some unseen dangers, like a cave that opens on river left at a hairy drop.  One of our flotilla corkscrewed his boat at the drop and exited the cockpit, but he and his boat veered away from the hazard.  Several fellows were awaiting other paddlers with rescue ropes at the ready, so those folks were certainly thinking of our crew.  He didn't need a rescue that time.  It was a long section that is difficult to catch at optimal level, so I'm fortunate to have had the opportunity to paddle that day.  Our trip ended in the willows near Boxley where one of our crew who was in an inflatable kayak popped a hole in it and lost his boat.  When I spotted him, he was hanging on to a tree in the rushing water.  He climbed out and walked to the road through a pasture.  If he'd lost his boat farther up river, he would have needed to climb a rock wall to get out.  He was lucky. 

Most of my trips have originated at Ponca low-water bridge.  It is a pretty section and offers hiking and horseback trails I have hiked in the past.  I had to stop for a black bear while driving to the Centerpoint trailhead before my wife and I hiked.  We didn't see him on the trail fortunately. I've hiked many of the trails like Cecil Cove Loop, the Buffalo River Trail, Hemmed-In Hollow Trails (including Goat Bluff--a gorgeous trail that challenges those afraid of heights on some bluff-hugging bottlenecks), and Lost Valley (not actually along the river, but near Ponca).  My first love is the water, however, so most of my experiences are in the river.  I have fished the river from Boxley to Carver and at the confluence of the White River and the Buffalo at Buffalo City.

The most memorable trip I've ever experienced was a three day paddle and camp trip from Ponca to Carver.  Our first night along the river was spent at Kyle's Landing right on the river and suffered through rain and lightning through the night.  We kept a close eye on the river level, so not a lot of sleep that night.  At our campsite, glow-in-the-dark wood chips lit the trail from the river to the main campsite.  I was told a fungus rendered the wood chips so easily visible in darkness, but I never checked the fellow's account.  At Ozark Landing the next evening, we spent the evening trading stories with some campers employed as state parole officers. The group were unwinding along the river including a native Canadian who loved the scenery of northern Arkansas and relocated to Ft. Smith.  Luckily, we were out early enough each morning and avoided most of the novice paddlers who pack the river and clog the rapids with overturned canoes. 

Buffalo River was a good fishing site years ago.  The last time I fished there, runoff from logging operations muddied the waters and I haven't been back to fish.  I camped with an acquaintance on a sandy shoal on the Ponca to Kyle's stretch and found a hole that hid me with a giant boulder stuck in the river from a flood and I was up to my chest in water and caught one smallmouth bass after another.  The next time I fished that spot, the boulder had been pushed down river or to the bottom of the pool.  I love to catch smallmouth and have caught my share in the the Buffalo and in the East and Middle Forks of the upper White River over the years and the next catch is always a thrill.  Near Buffalo City, trout can be caught, where the Buffalo meets the cold waters of the White River. 

My favorite time of year on the Buffalo is winter.  The leaves are off and the scenery of the mountains is uncovered.  Hiking in winter is always fun. Most of my paddle trips over the years are in winter, because that's when the water levels are optimal.  The only bummer to me is the Buffalo can be closed from Ponca down river by the rangers.  The day I paddled the Hailstone section, the water level was just flowing over the bridge at Ponca.  They don't close the Hailstone section in high water fortunately.  Through the years, my favorite whitewater river has been the Mulberry River in Johnson and Franklin Counties, but for the scenery and the access to trails and the river,  the Buffalo is a true gem.  It isn't the most challenging river in the Ozarks, so I recommend the river for practically any skill level.  Ponca is a bit much for most casual paddlers and they should expect to flip at places like Gray Rock (where "traffic" jams of overturned boats is the biggest hazard for are casual paddlers there in droves.  People were upsetting on riffles where no one expects overturned boats.  A boy in an OU cap flipped just in front as I was trying to pass him before the next rapid, which required some staging, but he didn't make it through the "kiddie riffle" unscathed. Too much fun at his expense. I retrieved one of his lost possessions and handed it back to him.  Another fellow flipped farther down river and an acquaintance retrieved and returned his cooler and floppy hat, but not the contents which fell out of the cooler.  We had replenished our cooler stockpile, which was getting dangerously low.   My wife and I camped at Buffalo Point shortly before I began dating her and we spent our honeymoon at a resort at Ponca and hiked to the Hemmed-In Hollow waterfall, so the Buffalo valley is special to us.  It was nice and chilly that day for the 5+ mile round trip.  My first hike to the waterfall was in the dog days of August and the uphill climb out was sweltering, but water was flowing despite the drought. 

Kayaking has afforded opportunities to see some of the most beautiful sites of the Ozarks.  I've paddled Frog Bayou, Lee Creek, Mulberry, Little Mulberry, Big Piney, forks of the upper White, Illinois, King's, War Eagle Creek, and several little creeks that flow into those rivers.  The Buffalo is the one EVERYONE should experience from Ponca to Buffalo City.  If your skill level is adequate, definitely find an experienced crew and paddle from Fallsville to Boxley or Ponca (6 miles below Boxley Bridge).  The Buffalo River Handbook, by Kenneth L. Smith, and the hiking guides of Tim Ernst are must reads.  The handbook provides historical content as well as geographic and tourist information.  The civil war was a desperate time for Buffalo River valley inhabitants and families were divided.  For instance, the Villines clan of Boxley Valley, which boasts future country music star Merle Haggard among its members, was on one end pro-Union and on the other end pro-Confederacy.  The bushwhackers made life nearly unbearable in northern Arkansas and life was cheap. Peace groups sprang up throughout Arkansas and many of those men fled to the backwoods of the Ozarks to avoid conscription in Confederate or Union armies and some likely became bushwhackers themselves. Lawlessness was rife and sustenance was scarce, sending most folks to flight.  The civil war activity of either army in this region was a logistical nightmare lacking rails or good roads.  Many a marching soldier was shoeless or became so after not a whole lot of marching in the Ozarks.  Bare-footed troops with the lower pants legs shredded by vegetation on the roads and trails they marched were common sights. 

Whitewater paddling has been mostly replaced by lakes and big rivers (Beaver Lake and Table Rock Lake are fun to paddle and offers plenty of mileage and waves).  Mad River Synergy 12 footer has seen as many miles and pleasurable experiences as my whitewater Prijon Tornado by now.  The  Prijon has seen thousands of miles between my ownership and one of the great paddlers of the Ozarks who paddled in the boat before I purchased it.  What a great boat.  The only time it failed me was because of its length.  My wife dropped me off at Boxley, one day, and I was going to paddle a quick trip to Ponca.  I was scouting a rapid that had a tree down, so I grabbed the eddy and scouted.  The water was rather high, so the eddy was flowing upriver rather quickly and I broke out of the eddy at a bottleneck and the bow of my boat hit a tree on the opposite shore and I rolled it.  I swam furiously through several swift pools hanging onto my paddle and tethered to a spraydeck and never caught it until I reached the big pool right below Ponca.  My wife saw my boat floating upside down while waiting for me at the low water bridge at Ponca and didn't know what to think.  As she saw it, I had climbed out of the river and run along the fields where the elk hang out through the briars and cane stands along the riverbank and yelled out to her, so she wouldn't think I drowned.  I ran to the bridge, ditched my spraydeck, life-jacket, and paddle and swam as fast as I could to catch the boat before it went through another rapid which would have made it impossible for me to catch through that section.  I caught the boat at the tail end of the pool.  Short lesson in that incident: Never paddle a river alone.  You never know what might happen. 

I have enjoyed the Ozarks and the Buffalo River the past couple of decades and I feel fortunate that Dr. Neil Compton fought to save this river from the dam project.  Many natives of the river valley weren't so happy about the result at the time.  They wanted the dams and they wanted a lake.  The gorgeous ancient scenery is too rich to be flooded in my opinion.  Thanks again, Dr. Compton for your service to Arkansas and the world.

Labor Day thoughts

Lately, my historical studies have focused on Civil War-era Helena with the Sesquicentennial of the Battle of Helena July 4, 2013 approaching.  I was fortunate to have received a copy of the Book of Common Prayer from the pastor at St. John's in Helena (Father Travis Frank).  I'm trying to understand the mindset of the Bishop who presided over the Southwest prior to the Civil War, so I have been studying the Episcopal faith.  Lt. Gen. Leonidas Polk was brought to the faith in the "Burned Over" region of upper NY state during the 2nd Great Awakening while a cadet at West Point.  Polk, upon graduation from the Academy, opted for the priesthood instead of military service, so he was not part of the war effort in Mexico.  I'm trying to finish the BCP before my Plains vacation so I can begin study of the Baptists and Methodists of Helena in that period.  My grandmother attended the Episcopal mission on Cherry St. shortly after her family migrated to Helena from Cotton Plant and it was a thrill to see her siblings and she on the baptismal record there.  My grandmother was also a member of the historic First Baptist Church in Helena where the old Ft. Curtis set during the war.  The church was extant during the war along Perry St. (I'm operating strictly from memory, so be kind if I'm mistaken on that one) closer to the center of town.  Ft. Curtis was actually the fringe of town in those days.

Reading through the BCP on Labor Day evening before I turned in, I read a collect For Labor Day (#25):

Almighty God, who hast so linked our lives one with another that we all do affecteth, for good or ill, all our lives: So guide us in the work we do, that we may do it not for self alone, but for the common good; and as we seek a proper return for our own labor, make us mindful of the rightful aspirations of other workers, and arouse our concern for those whom are out of work; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen (BCP, page 210)

No wonder William Faulkner loved the BCP.  We tend to forget that mundane things like our labors are actually in service to the common good as much as for our own financial well-being.  It's nice to believe that rolling the rock up the hill only to have it roll all the way down the hill to start the whole process over again can have more of an impact than on our own affairs and families.  Folks who work as police, soldiers, firefighters, and social workers aren't the only ones serving their fellow human beings.  We should all labor with the knowledge that no matter the task, we should all consider our labors as edification for others and that we all serve God.  In my job, I need that kind of encouragement. 

On Facebook, I see children of firefighters, police officers, medical personnel, state and Federal employees, and the military who followed the calling of their parents to serve America, humankind, and God and I want to personally thank all these folks in honor of Labor Day and to urge you all in the faith (stealing from the Pauline epistles).  And thanks for all of you who labor for the common good outside the service sector.  Hopefully, all Americans who wish to labor for the common good will find a job worthy of their efforts.  I'm happy to be able to pay my bills and collect enough money for music, books, and travels, so I'm truly grateful to God for His mercy.  I could be one of the unlucky who have been booted from their jobs, their homes, and their good dispositions.  Everyone deserves to feel needed and have a job to occupy their time and fill their wallets for their personal pursuits.  Economic times like these have a tendency to divide Americans cumulatively and their individual families, so let's all pray that better economic times are ahead for the sake of us all.