Wandering down out of the Ozark Highlands on a southeasterly bearing, it might have been easy enough to just slide over to Memphis and follow the interstate system. A particular loathing has grown significantly for that route though. It is as homogenized as it gets, at a high speed.
The expedition headed immediately southeast towards a little known spot in Arkansas relevant to the history of the state before it was a state. Indeed, relevant to many the western states before they were even states.
Little more than a marker in a swamp, Louisiana Purchase State Park commemorates the planting of a survey marker. It is not just any survey marker though. This boulder in a swamp preserves the initial point of beginning for surveys of all land acquired in the Louisiana Purchase of 1803. It is puzzling why such a location was chosen, when plenty of wide open solid land surrounds the area.
Continuing across the massive floodplain of the Mississippi River into a state by the same name, the remainder of the day moved lazily down the road, like the the barges on the Mississippi River. The seven and a half driving hours for the day bypassed all the major metropolitan areas. Indeed, US-49 seemed to bypass pretty much everything, except the heat. The radio confirmed that it was 44°C near Webb, mockingly following that up with news that there would be a low of 42°C overnight.
Skies became increasingly cloudy near Greenwood, just as the journey turns into the southern pine belt. It proved a little cooler there too; a chilly 38°C. Humidity in both of these instances stood at the precipice of raining, without ever going there. Stepping out of air conditioning into this pea soup equal only to being slammed in the chest with a sledgehammer, while trying to swallow a gallon of water.
Pine forest consumes much of the landscape after that point. Two-lane highways begin to twist and wind their way through this land mass. It is amazing that this far south, even after all the years, this part of the world maintains one of the highest percentages of forest cover in the nation. Then again, with the heat they experience regularly, maybe not so surprising. Storm never quite caught up, though made a gallant effort, apparently raging everywhere around. The most witnessed firsthand on this outing amounted to little more than a few splatters here and there.
Arriving at camp for the night unscathed, accommodations were found satisfactory, and a quick journey into Laurel for sustenance proved successful. Some friendly folks dining nearby at the bar asked if we had come to see the related to the HGTV series "Home Town." They appeared amused and somewhat relieved that we had no idea what that was all about and immediately offered a few interesting alternatives. Though a few suggestions seemed interesting enough, our destination was the beach though. The only real purpose for stopping in this town was to enable a three hour journey to attain that goal.
The journey back to camp seemed much longer than the dusk travel into Laurel. Everything grows right up to the side of the two-lane blacktop here. Additionally, a settling fog and shadows challenged expedient navigation. At camp, the night stood blissfully absent of human intervention. Frogs and crickets set the tone for the night. One little tree frog came inside for a brief visit, but had to be evicted after attempting to scale the walls.
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