We entered Arkansas and in short time was coming across some really great photo opportunities of old dilapidated wood shacks and shanties. Yet all I could do was catch a fleeting glimpse as the narrow twisty Ozark mountain road offered no shoulder to pull off onto. It was very exasperating to have to let so many great pictures go uncaptured. The first point of interest was up a tortuous grade and really wasn’t worth the effort. Once off the mountain and onto the flatlands again the next two points I failed to find - one a small city park and the other a cemetery. How hard could that be? My luck seemed to be running low this day.
I even asked the woman in the service station directions to the park. Once I got going though I realized I had paid little attention to what she told me for I was captivated with her southern drawl. This happened again when I pulled off the side of the road to what once was a motel but now are permanent residences. I wasn’t sure if I was on the right road to a campground. Outside one of the “rooms” sat this woman with 7 little girls running around. She was rather large, wearing dirty shabby clothes and missing more teeth than she had but she was so polite and kind - she must have said “sir” at least 3 times in addressing me. The little girls, all barefoot wearing a hodge-podge assortment of clothes, were so excited that the Little House on the Highway stopped to talk with them. A couple of them were jumping up and down squealing with delight. I loved the moment. Then when checking in at the state park campground the young girl had the strongest southern speak of them all. I had to tell her with all respect, I could listen to you talk all day. I love it. My next Goofy-Things-to-See tour has to be through the south.
This place doesn’t compare to some I missed out on but I’ll take what I can get even if it is upscale in style. Seen in Ozone, Arkansas which was no more than a fly speck on my map and lived up to that in real life.