3/26/99 | Song of the south

some folks say

We pretty much followed the Red River back and forth between Texas and Oklahoma. A detour so we could drive through Windom, TX disappointed us; not even a wide spot in the road, just a few houses off the divided highway. The Talimena Skyline Drive through the Ouachita National Forest in Oklahoma and Arkansas was quiet and scenic.At a gas station in Mena, an old man caught me studying the map and said, "Yaw should go ta Betty Jean. It's way high and right nice." We deciphered his recommendation and headed for Petit Jean State Park. We stretched our legs on a hiking trail there which led past cliffs which any rock climber would immediately peg as ideal for top-roping. The visitor's center had a sign prohibiting rappelling, but when we asked about climbing, the ranger shrugged: "Nobody's asked us *that* before." I guess there are no climbers in Arkansas.

What there are in Arkansas, by the way, are churches. More churches than I've ever seen before in my life. And they all have cutesy little sayings on their message boards out front:

LIFE IS FRAGILE -- HANDLE WITH PRAYER
LOW ON FAITH?  STOP IN FOR A FILL UP
IF YOU LIKE OUR SIGN, YOU'LL LOVE OUR SERMON

saw the ghost of elvis

We had a rude shock crossing into Tennesee. Up to now, we'd been on small roads through small towns; but the Mississippi only has bridges in certain places, and the most convenient place on our route was I-40 into Memphis. It turned out to be a decent stop, though, as the visitor's center is right across the bridge, and they had maps and information and a place to park while we wandered around Beale Street for a while. Elvis Presley Boulevard took us past Graceland and out of town into southern Tennessee.

We spent a morning at Shiloh National Military Park, the site of a major Civil War battle, then headed for Lynchburg to meet friends at the Jack Daniel Distillery. The distillery tour was a hoot; clearly they select their tour guides based on hick accent, wrinkled face, and how well his beer gut fills out his overalls. Our guide was a good ol' boy with carefully imperfect grammar and speech that cried out for subtitling, but he knew his facts and figures and did Mr. Jack credit.

You can't actually buy JD (or any alcohol, for that matter) in Lynchburg, but you can get breakfast for two for under $8, including tip. Whattadeal.

pardon me, boy

Winding roads led us to Chattanooga, which was a lot prettier and hillier than we'd suspected. Our route went through the ritzy community of Signal Mountain, which had many elegant houses and some rather unusual ones: I almost missed a curve staring at a pure-white flying saucer which had apparently landed on a lot and sprouted a driveway.

We were in need of a shower and laundry, so we opted for a real campground. As we drank our cocktail hour drinks, we noticed an RV pulling in across from us with the Washington state plate AMPLPWR. "I wonder if they're associated with Ample Power Technologies?" mused Britt. When I passed by on my way to the laundry room and saw them outside, I asked. I got not only confirmation, but also an invite for some wine and conversation after dinner. They were surprised that we knew of their small company, but we recognized them because we have a copy of one of their books, Wiring 12 Volts for Ample Power. (Unfortunately, it was packed too deep for us to pull out for an autograph!) Ruth and David, if you're reading this, it was a pleasure meeting you; and for everyone else reading this, check out their website at www.amplepower.com.