Curuthersville to Oklahoma City - Day 2

My day began with a walk on the Mississippi dike which butted up against our RV site.  

Stationed along the trail were nature notes to describe the flora and fauna of the area such as the bright green squirrel tree frog and red mulberry trees. The river side of the dike was a tangled jumble of driftwood, boat parts and human debris, past deposits from a river that would prefer to wander rather than be confined to its people-defined pathway.  

The Arkansas road delivered scenes of turmeric colored rice fields  and swamps. Harvesting sent plumes of dust rising from unseen tractors, sunk below the horizon.

Amid the jumble of debris, accented with kudzu, bloomed a large white trumpet-like flower. From where I stood, it looked like a giant morning glory. I couldn't see it very well.

The Arkansas road delivered scenes of turmeric colored rice fields  and swamps.  Rice harvesting sent plumes of dust rising from unseen tractors, sunk below the horizon

  

As the temperatures stretched over ninety, we drove on.  A rest stop provided some well-maintained beauty in the form a flower-garden kept up by a Arkansas Department of Transportation employee. Here is a teaser photo. The rest will be up in a couple days at www.beyondmygarden.blogspot.com 

While in Arkansas we wanted to sample the local barbeque so we utilized my new Droid phone to see what the road offered. I found Clyde Brothers BBQ located about 10 miles of Route 40. We at at Clydes where a friendly waitress took our order then delivered a pungent spicy blend of chopped pork and vinegar alongside a small bag of Frito corn ships.

 While we ate, a warm breeze blew across my arm from a hole in the window beside our table. I probably enjoyed the experience more than Jeff did. As people who know me know, presentation is important to my dining experience.

The clientele, waitresses, faded wallpaper made up for the  sour BBQ tha was definitely not our favorite. It was in Clydes that I watched a man eat whle rice clung to his pant like tiny cocoons. 

Rice, cotton and millet fields gradually give way to Arkansas hills and it feels more like home. I leave Arkansas wanting more. I want to come back and go into those hills that we barely glimpsed but Oklahoma won’t wait.

 We crossed several more fivers some  designated a bayou, black bringing to mind slithering snakes clinging to trees just above the water line. One interesting river took us alongside the remains of an earlier metal bridge, one that lifted up to let oats pass underneath.

With Oklahoma came mega churches . . . 

. . . rolling land and a bright sunset just as we rolled through Oklahoma City to rest at the Council Road RV Park. Good night. I look forward to another day tomorrow as we head to Amarillo Texas, home of the 72 ounce steak.

Good-night.