Arkansas Adventure

You may think that I'm talking foolish, you've heard that I'm wild and I'm free...or maybe you haven't.  Either way, I've been on a little adventure through the Arkansas Ozark Mountains, and I've got a wild story to tell.  And it's free.

Incidentally, it doesn't involve Randy Travis.  Sorry.

But it does involve a catfish pond, a pumpkin thief, a tiny graveyard hidden deep in the Ozark Mountains, and a van full of crazy ladies.  And an entire barrel of fun. 

That part bears repeating--A barrel-full.  Of fun.  I feel I've made my point.

It all started in 1933.  Sort of.  At least that's when a certain notorious ancestor of mine disappeared under questionable circumstances.  It was such a mystery that to this day, folks in our little town still speculate about it.  And that's all I'm allowed to say.  It's still a delicate subject in our family, but it's one that led a group of us across the Missouri/Arkansas line and deep into the Ozark Mountains on a quest for answers.

Here's where the wild and free part comes in.  Their names are Phyllis (my mom), Aunt Jane,  Aunt Virginia, and Cousin Julia.  These ladies love to cut loose and have a ball, and all I can tell you is this:  I haven't laughed so hard in years.  And you wouldn't believe the family secrets that were revealed--my ears are still ringing!  And I love it.

With me at the wheel, we headed south toward Arkansas--well, most of us did.  We picked up Julia along the way. 

Julia and her husband, David, live not far across the state line, so we made their home our home base.  They said they didn't mind...

Good thing, too, because I love visiting Julia.  There's lot's of fun things to do at her house.

Julia and David own and operate the shop, One Man's Treasure, which is a fantastic treasure trove of antiques and nostalgia items located on Hwy 65 not far from Harrison, Ark.  Every time I visit, they bring out their latest finds and let me ooh and aah over them.  I'm really good at that.

Here's a shot of Julia's house.

Just kidding.  This is her cute little cabin, nestled in the woods, near the banks of a catfish pond.

Let's peek inside...oh, it's so cute and cozy!  No wonder she likes to sneak away and play in here!

Mornings at Julia's house are spent sitting by the catfish pond, drinking coffee, tossing crackers to the fish, and letting your troubles float away.  Even though it was rainy, I wasn't gonna miss out on this.  It was so relaxing.

At least it was until we realized we had a pumpkin thief in our midst...

...who appropriately goes by the name of "Outlaw".  Outlaw roams free at Julia's house, he's not the type to be fenced in.  But this wild stallion was no match for an angry blonde.  She chased him out of the yard in no time flat. 

The dust was flying, or it would have been if it hadn't been raining.

Here's the pumpkins he was thieving from...see the bite marks? 

Outlaws will try to get away with anything!!

But they're fun to have around.

After the showdown with Outlaw, we hopped back in the van and headed south on Highway 65.  This stretch of highway meanders through the mountains, alongside quaint little towns that time forgot, and around long-abandoned homesteads.  Everywhere you look there's a reminder of the past, like this peaceful old barn with it's festive hay bales...

And this lively old pickup truck...that I really wanted to take home with me.

And these neat little rock cabins near the beautiful Buffalo River.  Can you imagine spending the night here, then canoeing down the river the next morning?  Oh, yesteryear.  Where did you go?

And then there was this not-so-little Victorian Mansion.  Stunning, even if it's seen better days.

When we happened on this spring flowing right out of the side of a mountain, I suddenly realized how thirsty I was.  And you know how I am with springs--I simply had to get me a sip.  The spring reminded me of the one my granny told me she drank out of as a girl, living in an Arkansas railroad camp in the 1920's.

Except ours was a little more modern.  It had a pipe.  

We traveled on past great antique shops like this one (too bad it was "shut"), and gorgeous scenery, through a rainstorm and narrow mountain passes, and eventually pulled up at the final resting place of our long missing relative, a tiny cemetery in a beautiful mountain holler.

Reaching our destination sparked a wealth of speculation that transported us back to the days of Model T's, moonshine stills, railroad camps, and smoke-filled taverns.  It was a world where life was hard, disappearing was easy, and survival was all that mattered--to some, at least. 

But it all comes to an end sometime...no pun intended.  But it did seem fitting that a graveyard was where we reached the end of our quest. 

Sort of.  If we could only figure out how he ended up there...it's such a mystery.

We haven't arrived at all the answers yet, but as always, the journey is really the best part.  Especially when it's through the Ozark Mountains with family like mine!