2016 Arkansas & Oklahoma
Day One-Thursday, June 09, 2016
We board at 5:05 AM. As nothing has happened with the vacation yet, I’ll tell you about the week so far. Not much.
We did get “chosen” for the TSA Precheck. After paying $85 per person, I would have been upset if we hadn’t. It is good for 5 years, so if we fly about once per year, I think it will be worth it. At 4 AM, when we were going to go through security, I was not expecting a big crowd at security. I wasn’t disappointed. We would have gotten through the normal security in 10-15 minutes, counting the long walk through the queue. But, we were the only people in the Precheck line, and the walk was to the front was 1/8th. I didn’t have to take out my laptop, take off my belt or shoes. I just put my bag on the conveyer, emptied my pockets and was through in a minute. We will have another opportunity to evaluate it on the way back, but so far we both love it.
Our two flights, Denver to St. Louis and the St. Louis to Little Rock went very smooth. They might have been the smoothest flights I have taken. I’m sure flying that early in the morning helps. We picked up our rental car at the Bill and Hillary National Airport. The name makes me cringe, but compared to Obama, Bill Clinton was Ronald Reagan. That’s probably all the politics for this letter. I did like the airport, especially the rental cars being on site. Dollar got us out in record time.
We made a beeline for Esse Purse Museum. This one was definitely for Margo, but it was interesting to read how the economic and changing political times would influence fashion and a purse. The displays were arranged by decade to show those changes The Great Depression pushed women into something more durable, and even homemade. As women entered the workforce, hand bags evolved to be roomier and practical. There were at least a hundred total bags in the museum, and I found maybe one that Mom would have carried when I knew her.
We were hungry by the time we left and asked for a lunch recommendation. We got several, all in the Soma area (South Main), which is where Esse is located. The restaurant was called South on Main. I was not sure if I should deduct points for a lack of imagination or award them for hipness in their choice of moniker. When we stepped inside, I became sure. They got the points. It was roomy, and well air conditioned. The building had to be around 100 years old, and had lots of brick and plaster. Dominating one wall was a large stage and a giant poster for Thelonious Monk. I never heard of him, but it looked Jazz Age cool. We took the waiters recommendation of a Cuban sandwich, ham and pork shoulder with a Carolina mustard BBQ sauce. The sandwich was good. Margo loved the fries. I thought they were over salted and over spiced. That did not stop me from eating them all.
We did get “chosen” for the TSA Precheck. After paying $85 per person, I would have been upset if we hadn’t. It is good for 5 years, so if we fly about once per year, I think it will be worth it. At 4 AM, when we were going to go through security, I was not expecting a big crowd at security. I wasn’t disappointed. We would have gotten through the normal security in 10-15 minutes, counting the long walk through the queue. But, we were the only people in the Precheck line, and the walk was to the front was 1/8th. I didn’t have to take out my laptop, take off my belt or shoes. I just put my bag on the conveyer, emptied my pockets and was through in a minute. We will have another opportunity to evaluate it on the way back, but so far we both love it.
Our two flights, Denver to St. Louis and the St. Louis to Little Rock went very smooth. They might have been the smoothest flights I have taken. I’m sure flying that early in the morning helps. We picked up our rental car at the Bill and Hillary National Airport. The name makes me cringe, but compared to Obama, Bill Clinton was Ronald Reagan. That’s probably all the politics for this letter. I did like the airport, especially the rental cars being on site. Dollar got us out in record time.
We made a beeline for Esse Purse Museum. This one was definitely for Margo, but it was interesting to read how the economic and changing political times would influence fashion and a purse. The displays were arranged by decade to show those changes The Great Depression pushed women into something more durable, and even homemade. As women entered the workforce, hand bags evolved to be roomier and practical. There were at least a hundred total bags in the museum, and I found maybe one that Mom would have carried when I knew her.
We were hungry by the time we left and asked for a lunch recommendation. We got several, all in the Soma area (South Main), which is where Esse is located. The restaurant was called South on Main. I was not sure if I should deduct points for a lack of imagination or award them for hipness in their choice of moniker. When we stepped inside, I became sure. They got the points. It was roomy, and well air conditioned. The building had to be around 100 years old, and had lots of brick and plaster. Dominating one wall was a large stage and a giant poster for Thelonious Monk. I never heard of him, but it looked Jazz Age cool. We took the waiters recommendation of a Cuban sandwich, ham and pork shoulder with a Carolina mustard BBQ sauce. The sandwich was good. Margo loved the fries. I thought they were over salted and over spiced. That did not stop me from eating them all.
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That brought us to the two worst parts of our trip, and I hope the low points. We left Little Rock at around 2 PM and it was after 7 PM when we pulled into The Buffalo Run Hotel’s parking lot. That was good time, factoring in a stop, but I still hate long drives. The fact that I am defining 5 hours with a break, as a “long drive” should tell you something.
Check in was smooth, our room is good, and hunger was again tapping us on the shoulder asking for a handout. The casino has three places to eat and we settled on one before we left the hotel to walk across the parking lot to the casino. As soon as I walked in a big Loretta Lynn poster greeted us. Emblazed in large red letters was the word “Postponed”! I actually exclaimed out loud my surprise. I had checked Buffalo Run’s website the night before and it had said nothing. I asked about it and they said the Loretta Lynn’s grandson had died. I think she has had about enough heartache from her family. The casino has gotten Johnny Lee to take her place, so we will still see a concert and our tickets will be good on July 8th, if we can find our way back
We gambled at the casino the rest of the evening. I managed to hold my losses to about $50, which considering how quick I lost the first $40 was amazing. Margo lost about the same. I think we made back to the hotel about midnight. I should have been exhausted, but the two coffees I had around 10:30 had me only tired. I did not sleep very much, although when I did drop off, it was pretty good sleep.
Check in was smooth, our room is good, and hunger was again tapping us on the shoulder asking for a handout. The casino has three places to eat and we settled on one before we left the hotel to walk across the parking lot to the casino. As soon as I walked in a big Loretta Lynn poster greeted us. Emblazed in large red letters was the word “Postponed”! I actually exclaimed out loud my surprise. I had checked Buffalo Run’s website the night before and it had said nothing. I asked about it and they said the Loretta Lynn’s grandson had died. I think she has had about enough heartache from her family. The casino has gotten Johnny Lee to take her place, so we will still see a concert and our tickets will be good on July 8th, if we can find our way back
We gambled at the casino the rest of the evening. I managed to hold my losses to about $50, which considering how quick I lost the first $40 was amazing. Margo lost about the same. I think we made back to the hotel about midnight. I should have been exhausted, but the two coffees I had around 10:30 had me only tired. I did not sleep very much, although when I did drop off, it was pretty good sleep.
Day Two--Friday, June 10, 2016
Margo was up before I was and she ended up waking me at about 7:45 AM. That was much earlier than I intended to get up, but I felt pretty good. We are about to head out to place in Miami called Buttered Bunns Café.
Our breakfast at the Buttered Bunns was nice, and we will likely be back there in a few hours for Saturday breakfast. Our destination this past morning was the Downstream Casino. It is right in the Kansas/Missouri/Oklahoma convergence. I read somewhere that parts of the complex sit in all three states. We got there around 11 AM and gambled there until about 2:00 PM or so. I think I had lost another hundred by then and Margo was about the same. Downstream is about the biggest casino in the area. So big casino equals big losses.
My lack of research on really started to show today. I had neglected to notice that first; Route 66, the Mother Road, America’s Main Street, runs right through Miami, OK. Miami is pronounced My-am uh, by the way. I think it is an Indian word meaning “really damn humid” Anyway, with Route 66 being nearby, I should have looked for those attractions and such the highway used to be famous for. There are two in Miami, a 1929 gas station and Ku-Ku Hamburgers. Ku-Ku is a long extinct hamburger chain from the 1960s. At its peak there were about 200 of them. But, they all but disappeared by 1973 when Gene Waylan bought the one in Miami. It is still there and churns out some pretty good burgers and a really good malt. Just ask Margo, as she had one for lunch after the hard luck at Downwinds.
Our breakfast at the Buttered Bunns was nice, and we will likely be back there in a few hours for Saturday breakfast. Our destination this past morning was the Downstream Casino. It is right in the Kansas/Missouri/Oklahoma convergence. I read somewhere that parts of the complex sit in all three states. We got there around 11 AM and gambled there until about 2:00 PM or so. I think I had lost another hundred by then and Margo was about the same. Downstream is about the biggest casino in the area. So big casino equals big losses.
My lack of research on really started to show today. I had neglected to notice that first; Route 66, the Mother Road, America’s Main Street, runs right through Miami, OK. Miami is pronounced My-am uh, by the way. I think it is an Indian word meaning “really damn humid” Anyway, with Route 66 being nearby, I should have looked for those attractions and such the highway used to be famous for. There are two in Miami, a 1929 gas station and Ku-Ku Hamburgers. Ku-Ku is a long extinct hamburger chain from the 1960s. At its peak there were about 200 of them. But, they all but disappeared by 1973 when Gene Waylan bought the one in Miami. It is still there and churns out some pretty good burgers and a really good malt. Just ask Margo, as she had one for lunch after the hard luck at Downwinds.
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And the other research failure? Commerce, OK. Famous as the hometown of Mickey Charles Mantle. I knew that Mantle was from a small town in the border area of Oklahoma, but I had forgotten exactly where. I figured it out as we were driving past Commerce High School, home of the Tigers and saw this large statue of The Mick. As we drove past it, I thought that looks like Mickey Mantle, based on the home run pose the statue was enacting. As we drove past his name was carved into the side. “That’s Mickey Mantle” I told Margo. “Do you want to stop?” she asked. Hell yes. So we did. We snapped several pics of him and Mickey Mantle Field, which the statue presides over. The baseball field isn’t much, but the fences looked to be a generous piece of real estate from home plate. Fitting.
After lunch, we went to High Winds casino nearby I had hopes of just losing a small portion of my cash, going to the concert and then getting back to the hotel without having to do any damage to my vacation budget. Things worked out better, I walked about $50 richer than I walked in. Margo doubled that. We left at 7 PM, with intentions of seeing Johnny Lee at 8 PM. We got to the hotel, grabbed the tickets and I noticed I had the time wrong. The show was at 9 PM, with the doors opening at 8 PM. We had time for dinner. We really weren’t terrible hungry. Our lunch had been late, and the portions large. So we decided to head to the Coleman House Restaurant, inside the casino and at least have a dessert. I had read that the Coleman was modeled after the Coleman Theater back in town. They even played Charlie Chaplin films on a large screen inside. It sounded like something to see, so on we went.
But first, I was having second thoughts about Johnny Lee. He is a fine artist, but his music doesn’t run through my head. I paid $110 to see Loretta Lynn, and if not her, then maybe no one. So we went to the Box Office and they gave us our money back.
We ended up having a full meal at The Coleman. I had lasagna and Margo, a Chicken Fried Steak. She also had a concoction called a Lucky Monkey. Which they failed to bring promptly. I was deep into my salad when Margo wondered out loud where her drink was. I could not remember the adverb which described the primate, so I asked her “Which friggin’ monkey did you get? The way it came out tickled me a bit, so I laughed and I asked Margo “ Should I ask the waitress “Where is my wife’s friggin monkey?” That sounded more amusing and I actually started tearing up. Keeping on the theme, I said “Well, I guess no frigging money for me” Now Margo is cracking up. It was juvenile and silly, but is the most I have laughed in months.
Afterwards I gambled for about an hour or so, and then told Margo I was going back to the room. The casino was too smoky, my head and eyes hurt, and my chest was getting a little tight. Nothing approaching serious, just noticeable, and annoying. Margo played for another couple of hours and came back with $275 for the day. She started with a bit more than a hundred.
While I was back in the room I typed this (obviously) and did a bit more research on our general route. I discovered a few things that might be interesting to stop and see, but we likely won’t. And one that we will; The Precious Moments Chapel. The same guy that created those teardrop eyed figurines made a home for himself in Carthage, MO. And as a way of thanking God for his bounty he built a chapel and incorporated the Precious Moments motif and signature. He painted a Sistine-like ceiling as well. This is not doll sized. This is a real church and grounds. Now, I’m not into Precious Moments, but Jolene really is. So we have to stop so she can see the pictures and we get her something. Plus, it just seems to out of the ordinary to pass up.
But, that part of the story comes later. Time to head off to bed so we can get moving in the morning. Lots to do!
But first, I was having second thoughts about Johnny Lee. He is a fine artist, but his music doesn’t run through my head. I paid $110 to see Loretta Lynn, and if not her, then maybe no one. So we went to the Box Office and they gave us our money back.
We ended up having a full meal at The Coleman. I had lasagna and Margo, a Chicken Fried Steak. She also had a concoction called a Lucky Monkey. Which they failed to bring promptly. I was deep into my salad when Margo wondered out loud where her drink was. I could not remember the adverb which described the primate, so I asked her “Which friggin’ monkey did you get? The way it came out tickled me a bit, so I laughed and I asked Margo “ Should I ask the waitress “Where is my wife’s friggin monkey?” That sounded more amusing and I actually started tearing up. Keeping on the theme, I said “Well, I guess no frigging money for me” Now Margo is cracking up. It was juvenile and silly, but is the most I have laughed in months.
Afterwards I gambled for about an hour or so, and then told Margo I was going back to the room. The casino was too smoky, my head and eyes hurt, and my chest was getting a little tight. Nothing approaching serious, just noticeable, and annoying. Margo played for another couple of hours and came back with $275 for the day. She started with a bit more than a hundred.
While I was back in the room I typed this (obviously) and did a bit more research on our general route. I discovered a few things that might be interesting to stop and see, but we likely won’t. And one that we will; The Precious Moments Chapel. The same guy that created those teardrop eyed figurines made a home for himself in Carthage, MO. And as a way of thanking God for his bounty he built a chapel and incorporated the Precious Moments motif and signature. He painted a Sistine-like ceiling as well. This is not doll sized. This is a real church and grounds. Now, I’m not into Precious Moments, but Jolene really is. So we have to stop so she can see the pictures and we get her something. Plus, it just seems to out of the ordinary to pass up.
But, that part of the story comes later. Time to head off to bed so we can get moving in the morning. Lots to do!
Day Three--Saturday, June 11, 2016
Our day started back in Miami, OK and another breakfast at the Buttered Bunns. We both had French toast. I had strawberries with mine and I may have found my new favorite breakfast meal. It was all very good and I stuffed myself. We ordinarily would have headed straight out of town and towards Branson, but this trip I did not pack our Branson portion, as it was only the shows, parasailing, and the Titanic museum that were definites. Nothing else was important enough to us to plan out. That gave us extra time this morning and we started spending that time by heading south on Route 66 to a restored (partially) 1920 Marathon gas station. There wasn’t a lot to see, but still interesting to see the old pumps outside. We took a few pictures and headed north. We stopped again, long enough to take a few pictures of the actual Coleman Theater (named and built by a mining tycoon, who likely employed Mickey Mantle’s dad), the iron greeting gate, and a stop sign that is in the middle of Route 66. These were all throwbacks to the heyday of the highway.
That ended Miami and it was time to focus on the Precious Moments Chapel, an hour away. We took the back way, so we could stay mostly on the historic highway. It was much for laid back and quiet. Lots of fields and small towns. Joplin, MO was not small, but did have a lot of character. You see remnants of the old Route 66 in the form of a dilapidated amusement park and brick building whose construction date had to been measured in decade multiples. Once past Joplin we were close to Carthage, but the GPS sent us through the woods of the Ozarks, on roads that reminded us of Carter County. While we did not expect the Precious Moments Chapel to be in the city, we also did not expect to be out in the middle of nowhere. But, we rounded a bend, and noticed a stretch of manicured lawn and some concrete. A left turn uncovered a parking lot, and off to the right a nicely designed park. A pastel pink building peaked out between the trees and we were sure we had arrived.
That ended Miami and it was time to focus on the Precious Moments Chapel, an hour away. We took the back way, so we could stay mostly on the historic highway. It was much for laid back and quiet. Lots of fields and small towns. Joplin, MO was not small, but did have a lot of character. You see remnants of the old Route 66 in the form of a dilapidated amusement park and brick building whose construction date had to been measured in decade multiples. Once past Joplin we were close to Carthage, but the GPS sent us through the woods of the Ozarks, on roads that reminded us of Carter County. While we did not expect the Precious Moments Chapel to be in the city, we also did not expect to be out in the middle of nowhere. But, we rounded a bend, and noticed a stretch of manicured lawn and some concrete. A left turn uncovered a parking lot, and off to the right a nicely designed park. A pastel pink building peaked out between the trees and we were sure we had arrived.
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I was immediately impressed by how pretty the grounds were. There was just the right combination of trees and open space. It did not have the expansiveness of a parade ground, nor the clutter of a forest. There were flowers and statues, most with the trademark teardrop eyes of the Precious Moments figurines. Parking was easy, in the big divided lot. It was mostly empty and the whole place had a very relaxed atmosphere. There was no music playing and the few people we saw were all quiet and reserved. We made our way in the pink building, which turned out to me the Precious Moments Chapel Center. This acted as a starting point, with a gift shop, and then opening up to a kind of kitschy open area that reminded me of Casa Bonita back home. It had a very tall ceiling and one end of the room was dominated by a twenty foot tall Precious Moments figure kissing an equally tall goose. It was a bit odd, but in striking way, rather than off putting or throwing the room off. The left wall was two castle towers, and the right were cottages. All had Precious Moments figures, not like you would buy in the store, but small statue size. It all worked.
Margo and I took pictures and then made our may out the back to see the actual Chapel. You followed a stone path that wound around a bit until you were at the chapel. It was the same color as the Center, a light pastel pink, but like I said, it worked. It did not feel kitschy or forced. It felt serene and solemn, just like before Sunday service. We got there at exactly 1 PM and they were doing tours every top of the hour. We spent the next half hour listening to Sam Butcher’s , the artist who created Precious Moments, history, how Precious Moments came to be (Christian greeting cards), and how his success led him to create the Chapel. If you are a hard core Christian they place would feel like a pilgrimage. I fall into the lapsed Christian category, so I admired it for the talent and dedication that was evident everywhere.
I have said or alluded to it multiple times, but it worked. The place was peaceful. Not just the Chapel, but all of the grounds. There were no screaming kids. There was no piped in music. There was no one trying to sell you anything. Admission was free. The tour was free. They had a gift shop, but it was easily avoided, as was their diner. We stayed for nearly three hours.
Margo and I took pictures and then made our may out the back to see the actual Chapel. You followed a stone path that wound around a bit until you were at the chapel. It was the same color as the Center, a light pastel pink, but like I said, it worked. It did not feel kitschy or forced. It felt serene and solemn, just like before Sunday service. We got there at exactly 1 PM and they were doing tours every top of the hour. We spent the next half hour listening to Sam Butcher’s , the artist who created Precious Moments, history, how Precious Moments came to be (Christian greeting cards), and how his success led him to create the Chapel. If you are a hard core Christian they place would feel like a pilgrimage. I fall into the lapsed Christian category, so I admired it for the talent and dedication that was evident everywhere.
I have said or alluded to it multiple times, but it worked. The place was peaceful. Not just the Chapel, but all of the grounds. There were no screaming kids. There was no piped in music. There was no one trying to sell you anything. Admission was free. The tour was free. They had a gift shop, but it was easily avoided, as was their diner. We stayed for nearly three hours.
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The long stay at Precious Moments, meant that we were behind. But, Margo was perfectly happy with pushing Titanic off until Sunday, as we would still need to get to Branson, check into the hotel, and eat. All before our 7:15 show. We arrived in Branson around 5:30 PM. Our first stop was to pick up our show tickets. When you order them, they go through some sort of clearing house and you will call them at the Tourist Center. That gives them a crack at signing you up for a time-share as well. But, they were very helpful in helping us to avoid traffic. They had no shot at getting me to listen to their time share pitch.
We got to the hotel, checked in, and picked out Mel’s Hard Luck Diner as our dinner destination. It’s a diner style environment, but not really the 50s. The draw was not nostalgia, but the wait staff. They each took turn singing a well know country song. We heard some Pam Tillis, Patsy Kline, and a few others. The kids were all very talented and the food was decent, as well.
That left our show for the night; Baldknobbers. They are a variety show. It was not well attended. About 25% of the seats were filled. It was a decent show, but it was a step down from what I remembered from 15 or so years ago. They are on their 3rd generation of family performers, and I think the talent pool is getting diluted. They need some outside blood to liven it up. I enjoyed the music and sang along, but there was nothing to attract a younger crowd, and that well spell trouble.
That was pretty much it for Saturday.
We got to the hotel, checked in, and picked out Mel’s Hard Luck Diner as our dinner destination. It’s a diner style environment, but not really the 50s. The draw was not nostalgia, but the wait staff. They each took turn singing a well know country song. We heard some Pam Tillis, Patsy Kline, and a few others. The kids were all very talented and the food was decent, as well.
That left our show for the night; Baldknobbers. They are a variety show. It was not well attended. About 25% of the seats were filled. It was a decent show, but it was a step down from what I remembered from 15 or so years ago. They are on their 3rd generation of family performers, and I think the talent pool is getting diluted. They need some outside blood to liven it up. I enjoyed the music and sang along, but there was nothing to attract a younger crowd, and that well spell trouble.
That was pretty much it for Saturday.
Day Four--Sunday, June 12, 2016
I slept pretty well and was up at 8:22 AM. Margo was going to wake me at 8 AM, but let me sleep. Even after a McDonald’s breakfast and a 15 minute drive to the marina, we were still nearly an hour early for our parasailing appointment. As it turned out, it would not have mattered when we got there. The winch that controls the sail, on the boat was broken, and there would be no parasailing on Sunday. First Loretta Lynn and now no parasailing. We were very disappointed. So back we went to the hotel, to change out of our swimming cloths and in to shopping cloths.
After changing we now had time to kill and an adventure void to fill. What to do? I looked at a tourist map of Branson and saw something called Vigilante Ziprider, and checked out its website. You zip for over ½ a mile, reach speeds of 50 mph, and start from the top of a 170 foot tower. That sounded about right. So we drove over, while keeping one eye on the sky. Rain had been predicted and the clouds were looking like they were in the mood to keep the weatherman employed.
We got there, amid a few distant thunder claps, and I was sure I we were going to be told the attraction was closed. But, as we pulled in, we saw a zip chair launch, and then go behind a tree hiding from up its occupancy status. So there was hope. That hope was dashed five minutes later, and we were soon walking back to the car. So now we needed Plan C.
Well, with rain appearing imminent, an outdoor activity seemed unlikely, so I suggested the Ralph Foster Museum, on the campus of the College of the Ozarks. I had recently heard that they had the original truck from the TV show the Beverly Hillbillies. Now who could pass that up? Plus the museum, itself, was supposed to be pretty good. 15 minutes later we were pulling into a suspiciously empty parking lot. The one thing I hate about being on vacation, is that I never remember what day of the week it is. It is Vacation Day, every day, and they are all a alike. Nope, Sundays in the Bible Belt are special. There are not even many shows Sunday nights in Branson. So, of course the museum was closed.
Strike Three. I was very disappointed, disillusioned, and downright pissed at myself for not have done a better job of planning and laying out contingencies. But, we still had to figure out what to do. We were not far from the historic downtown or the relatively (2006) new Branson Landing, so lunch and shopping it was.
We ate at the Farmhouse Restaurant. The food was very good, but the wait was long. We probably waited 40 minutes for our table. I had Fried Chicken and it came out crispy and hot. The biscuit was a meal to itself, and the mashed potatoes were perfect. It was full, but still wanted a dessert, because the picture of the Apple Dumpling with Cinnamon Ice Cream seemed to have been made just for me. I still shared with Margo, who did not hold up her end the spoon.
The rain did find us while we were downtown. It poured for about 15 minutes. We ducked into a store to wait it out. We eventually bounced around to several stores, most prominently Dicks 5 and 10, a Branson institution. The store itself had narrow aisles and thousands of SKUs. We did not spend a lot of money, but I still walked away deeply impressed. Not by the merchandise, but by his collection of baseball memorabilia and World War Two prints.
I only noticed them, because they are above the aisles, after about 15 minutes in the store. After I did, I stopped shopping. He advertises on his website that his Baseball Wall of Fame is second only to Cooperstown. I believe him. He set up each of his tributes in a similar way; a three part collage, one with a large photo of the player, one with a smaller picture, and then one with his autograph. And Mr. Hartley has everyone. Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Ty Cobb, Nap Lajoie, Dizzy Dean, Hank Aaron, Joe DiMaggio, and on and on. There were dozens, maybe hundreds. They belong in a museum
His WW II print collection was just as impressive. Dick Hartley evidently has a fondness of aviation, because that was the theme. All the prints I saw were of famous aircraft or groups. Each one had the signature of the pilots associated with them. The prints were from a variety of artists, but all looked of similar styles. The Enola Gay, The Memphis Belle, The Flying Tigers, The Black Sheep, and German aircraft were all there. And everyone was signed by the pilots and crew. The prints themselves were beautiful, but once you added the historical signatures, I was blown away. Again, they needed to be in a museum.
After leaving Ed’s I was feeling better. The retail therapy had improved Margo’s spirits as well. Except for one quilt store that we made a stop in. I was taking a closer look at the stitching to see if it was factory made, and moved the fabric with a finger to get better light and a lady scolded me “Not to pick at it”. Margo glared at her, turned on her heels and we headed out the door. As we were walking out a lady commented on how much work somebody must have put into a similar thin, factory-made, quilt, Margo responded back plenty loud enough for the shop owner to hear “No, not really” She was not happy.
It was getting deep into the afternoon by now, but we had not made it to Branson Landing. This is a retail village set up by Lake Taneycomo, on the east side of town. It runs parallel to the lake, in a boardwalk type set up. It has shops, restaurants, kiosks, and a few street performers. It did not exist when we lasted visited Branson, so I really wanted to at least see it. So, after checking the clock, I figured we could afford an hour there before our show that night.
Branson Landing was fun. It had a nice relaxed atmosphere, except for the pushy salesman at a few of the kiosks. Margo mistakenly thought a display of brochures were maps of the outdoor mall, and ended up hearing a sales pitch for plastic patio furniture. $400 dollar Adirondack chairs? I can’t even think of a wood exotic enough to command that price. Then another one was selling Magic Skirts. Margo ended up buying one of those. Another was selling electronic massagers. We already have one that doesn’t get any work. But the brick and mortar stores were nice. They had a great variety and we ended up buying several things, including a dog toy for the granddogs.
We came across a place called Parakeet Pete’s, which operated a zip line that was designed to accommodate even grandmothers, which zipped you across Lake Taneycomo. That sounds more impressive than it is. The Lake is only about a ¼ mile wide at this point, and it doesn’t get much wider. They start you out going backwards, as you are pulled up the zip line to point on the other side of the river. The worst part of that is the sensation of you being forced forward, and potentially (but, extremely unlikely) and out of your seat. Once in place, you dangle for a few moments letting the suspense build and then you are released to zoom across the lake. It was fun, but really not bad at all. Our ticket was for two rides, so we did it again. The standard pictures taken on these rides turned out half decent, so we bought them.
We hit maybe another store or two and then found our way to our car. We had a 7:30 show we needed to make and it was past 6 PM when we left. We dropped off our purchases at the hotel and freshened up a bit. The humidity was killing Margo’s hair. Our show was Clay Copper’s Country Express. We had seen Clay Cooper when we worked with Paul Harris back in 2003, when we brought dad out to see everyone. We all liked Clay Cooper, so we thought we would give him a shot. We were not disappointed. The show was much better than Baldknobbers yesterday. It had higher energy, played a better mix of music, had better effects, better choreography, and had better talent as well. Maybe more talent is a better way to put it. Clay Cooper’s show had a 13 year old singer, Erzah Noelle, a 13 year old girl, that does a great “I Want to be a Cowboy Sweetheart”, complete with the yodeling. After seeing both shows, we would do Clay Cooper again. We would pass on Baldknobbers. It just seemed like a notch below.
After show he was out front having his picture taken with everyone that wanted it. You could use your camera or buy one’s his team was taking. We did both, got autographs on a couple of CDs, and spend a few moments talking with him. He seemed pretty genuine and we both walked out of there feeling like he had saved the day for us. We had a late supper at Denny’s and then back to the hotel for bed. We needed to get on the road fairly early, because I thought we had a two hour drive ahead of us.
After changing we now had time to kill and an adventure void to fill. What to do? I looked at a tourist map of Branson and saw something called Vigilante Ziprider, and checked out its website. You zip for over ½ a mile, reach speeds of 50 mph, and start from the top of a 170 foot tower. That sounded about right. So we drove over, while keeping one eye on the sky. Rain had been predicted and the clouds were looking like they were in the mood to keep the weatherman employed.
We got there, amid a few distant thunder claps, and I was sure I we were going to be told the attraction was closed. But, as we pulled in, we saw a zip chair launch, and then go behind a tree hiding from up its occupancy status. So there was hope. That hope was dashed five minutes later, and we were soon walking back to the car. So now we needed Plan C.
Well, with rain appearing imminent, an outdoor activity seemed unlikely, so I suggested the Ralph Foster Museum, on the campus of the College of the Ozarks. I had recently heard that they had the original truck from the TV show the Beverly Hillbillies. Now who could pass that up? Plus the museum, itself, was supposed to be pretty good. 15 minutes later we were pulling into a suspiciously empty parking lot. The one thing I hate about being on vacation, is that I never remember what day of the week it is. It is Vacation Day, every day, and they are all a alike. Nope, Sundays in the Bible Belt are special. There are not even many shows Sunday nights in Branson. So, of course the museum was closed.
Strike Three. I was very disappointed, disillusioned, and downright pissed at myself for not have done a better job of planning and laying out contingencies. But, we still had to figure out what to do. We were not far from the historic downtown or the relatively (2006) new Branson Landing, so lunch and shopping it was.
We ate at the Farmhouse Restaurant. The food was very good, but the wait was long. We probably waited 40 minutes for our table. I had Fried Chicken and it came out crispy and hot. The biscuit was a meal to itself, and the mashed potatoes were perfect. It was full, but still wanted a dessert, because the picture of the Apple Dumpling with Cinnamon Ice Cream seemed to have been made just for me. I still shared with Margo, who did not hold up her end the spoon.
The rain did find us while we were downtown. It poured for about 15 minutes. We ducked into a store to wait it out. We eventually bounced around to several stores, most prominently Dicks 5 and 10, a Branson institution. The store itself had narrow aisles and thousands of SKUs. We did not spend a lot of money, but I still walked away deeply impressed. Not by the merchandise, but by his collection of baseball memorabilia and World War Two prints.
I only noticed them, because they are above the aisles, after about 15 minutes in the store. After I did, I stopped shopping. He advertises on his website that his Baseball Wall of Fame is second only to Cooperstown. I believe him. He set up each of his tributes in a similar way; a three part collage, one with a large photo of the player, one with a smaller picture, and then one with his autograph. And Mr. Hartley has everyone. Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Ty Cobb, Nap Lajoie, Dizzy Dean, Hank Aaron, Joe DiMaggio, and on and on. There were dozens, maybe hundreds. They belong in a museum
His WW II print collection was just as impressive. Dick Hartley evidently has a fondness of aviation, because that was the theme. All the prints I saw were of famous aircraft or groups. Each one had the signature of the pilots associated with them. The prints were from a variety of artists, but all looked of similar styles. The Enola Gay, The Memphis Belle, The Flying Tigers, The Black Sheep, and German aircraft were all there. And everyone was signed by the pilots and crew. The prints themselves were beautiful, but once you added the historical signatures, I was blown away. Again, they needed to be in a museum.
After leaving Ed’s I was feeling better. The retail therapy had improved Margo’s spirits as well. Except for one quilt store that we made a stop in. I was taking a closer look at the stitching to see if it was factory made, and moved the fabric with a finger to get better light and a lady scolded me “Not to pick at it”. Margo glared at her, turned on her heels and we headed out the door. As we were walking out a lady commented on how much work somebody must have put into a similar thin, factory-made, quilt, Margo responded back plenty loud enough for the shop owner to hear “No, not really” She was not happy.
It was getting deep into the afternoon by now, but we had not made it to Branson Landing. This is a retail village set up by Lake Taneycomo, on the east side of town. It runs parallel to the lake, in a boardwalk type set up. It has shops, restaurants, kiosks, and a few street performers. It did not exist when we lasted visited Branson, so I really wanted to at least see it. So, after checking the clock, I figured we could afford an hour there before our show that night.
Branson Landing was fun. It had a nice relaxed atmosphere, except for the pushy salesman at a few of the kiosks. Margo mistakenly thought a display of brochures were maps of the outdoor mall, and ended up hearing a sales pitch for plastic patio furniture. $400 dollar Adirondack chairs? I can’t even think of a wood exotic enough to command that price. Then another one was selling Magic Skirts. Margo ended up buying one of those. Another was selling electronic massagers. We already have one that doesn’t get any work. But the brick and mortar stores were nice. They had a great variety and we ended up buying several things, including a dog toy for the granddogs.
We came across a place called Parakeet Pete’s, which operated a zip line that was designed to accommodate even grandmothers, which zipped you across Lake Taneycomo. That sounds more impressive than it is. The Lake is only about a ¼ mile wide at this point, and it doesn’t get much wider. They start you out going backwards, as you are pulled up the zip line to point on the other side of the river. The worst part of that is the sensation of you being forced forward, and potentially (but, extremely unlikely) and out of your seat. Once in place, you dangle for a few moments letting the suspense build and then you are released to zoom across the lake. It was fun, but really not bad at all. Our ticket was for two rides, so we did it again. The standard pictures taken on these rides turned out half decent, so we bought them.
We hit maybe another store or two and then found our way to our car. We had a 7:30 show we needed to make and it was past 6 PM when we left. We dropped off our purchases at the hotel and freshened up a bit. The humidity was killing Margo’s hair. Our show was Clay Copper’s Country Express. We had seen Clay Cooper when we worked with Paul Harris back in 2003, when we brought dad out to see everyone. We all liked Clay Cooper, so we thought we would give him a shot. We were not disappointed. The show was much better than Baldknobbers yesterday. It had higher energy, played a better mix of music, had better effects, better choreography, and had better talent as well. Maybe more talent is a better way to put it. Clay Cooper’s show had a 13 year old singer, Erzah Noelle, a 13 year old girl, that does a great “I Want to be a Cowboy Sweetheart”, complete with the yodeling. After seeing both shows, we would do Clay Cooper again. We would pass on Baldknobbers. It just seemed like a notch below.
After show he was out front having his picture taken with everyone that wanted it. You could use your camera or buy one’s his team was taking. We did both, got autographs on a couple of CDs, and spend a few moments talking with him. He seemed pretty genuine and we both walked out of there feeling like he had saved the day for us. We had a late supper at Denny’s and then back to the hotel for bed. We needed to get on the road fairly early, because I thought we had a two hour drive ahead of us.
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Day Five--Monday, June 13, 2016
Up the next morning at 8:22 AM. Margo set an alarm and turned it off. We both slept in. We got showered and packed up and headed out, only about 15 minutes later than I had planned. But, when I programed the GPS for Eureka Springs, it only said it should take an hour. When I commented on that to Margo, she confirmed that is what she came up with the night before when she looked on Google Maps. Yet one more error in my planning. This has to have been the worse job I have done since forever. But, at least this one worked out in our favor. With an extra hour we weren’t counting on, and the fluff that was already built in to that day’s schedule, we independently came up with the idea of going to the Ralph Foster Museum on the College of the Ozarks campus. We both still wanted to see that damn hillbilly car.
We pulled in about 9:30 and I was sure with the way my luck had been going, the place was not going to open up until 10 AM. Nope it opened at 9 AM, so we parked and went inside. Money was exchanged for admission and we watch a short film on the college and the museum and 7-8 minutes later we were touring the first floor. The first display they had was the truck. It is a stripped down 1921 Oldsmobile. The most surprising part was that they would let you sit in it, if you bought the picture they would take of you. It cost $10 plus tax. I was so there. It was hard to get in and out of because the steering wheel was so close, but Margo and I managed. Our picture shows us waving and smiling like a couple of fools.
We pulled in about 9:30 and I was sure with the way my luck had been going, the place was not going to open up until 10 AM. Nope it opened at 9 AM, so we parked and went inside. Money was exchanged for admission and we watch a short film on the college and the museum and 7-8 minutes later we were touring the first floor. The first display they had was the truck. It is a stripped down 1921 Oldsmobile. The most surprising part was that they would let you sit in it, if you bought the picture they would take of you. It cost $10 plus tax. I was so there. It was hard to get in and out of because the steering wheel was so close, but Margo and I managed. Our picture shows us waving and smiling like a couple of fools.
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The rest of the museum was pretty good (they have an outstanding firearms collection) and we ended up spending about 2 ½ hours there, not leaving until about noon. That was much later than I had planned, but our tour of Eureka was not until 3 PM and it was now less than an hour driver. The drive to Eureka was remarkable only that we were not on any major highway, and driving through the Ozarks and through the small towns there definitely reminded us of Carter County. You did not make great time, but the country was pretty.
We checked in to the Quality Inn on Van Buren Street, dropped off our bags and went in search of lunch. We had only snacked a bit for breakfast and we were both hungry. Margo wanted Mexican, always a questionable choice in a foreign land (like the hill country of Arkansas), but we are fearless, except for stairs. Stairs are something that scare us. Anyway we found a Tex-Mex place called La Familia and the food was good, as was the beer I had with it. No ill effects and hunger was put at bay. It was only about 1:30 PM, and still 1 1/2 hours to go until our tour. We had planned to go find the Throwncrown Chapel, and as it was just a couple of miles up the road we were on, we headed that way.
Throwncrown Chapel is made of glass and black painted wood. It is taller than it is wide, and about as long as it is tall. It would probably seat 70-80 people in the pews. Margo wanted to see it because one of the Duggar girls from the reality show “19 kids and Counting” was proposed marriage there and she thought the church looked really cool. It does. It is back in the woods, with a small parking lot, well out of sight of the church. It is very peaceful and tranquil. But, there was also not much to see, so after a few pictures and a few moments of quiet thought, both in and outside the church, we were back in the car, pointed back to town.
We checked in to the Quality Inn on Van Buren Street, dropped off our bags and went in search of lunch. We had only snacked a bit for breakfast and we were both hungry. Margo wanted Mexican, always a questionable choice in a foreign land (like the hill country of Arkansas), but we are fearless, except for stairs. Stairs are something that scare us. Anyway we found a Tex-Mex place called La Familia and the food was good, as was the beer I had with it. No ill effects and hunger was put at bay. It was only about 1:30 PM, and still 1 1/2 hours to go until our tour. We had planned to go find the Throwncrown Chapel, and as it was just a couple of miles up the road we were on, we headed that way.
Throwncrown Chapel is made of glass and black painted wood. It is taller than it is wide, and about as long as it is tall. It would probably seat 70-80 people in the pews. Margo wanted to see it because one of the Duggar girls from the reality show “19 kids and Counting” was proposed marriage there and she thought the church looked really cool. It does. It is back in the woods, with a small parking lot, well out of sight of the church. It is very peaceful and tranquil. But, there was also not much to see, so after a few pictures and a few moments of quiet thought, both in and outside the church, we were back in the car, pointed back to town.
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We made it to where our tram tour of the town was to depart at 2:30, plenty of time and right on schedule for those of you keeping score. The tour itself gave a fair overview of the town and its history. Our guide, Fred, has lived a good part of his life her, and knew the history well. At least if he didn’t, he sounded confident. Margo and I ended up taking four different tour in Eureka Springs (a record for us), and we heard several of the facts told the same way, on more than one of them. I have heard history described as “a lie, agreed upon”, so I think we have arrived there. The tour lasted until about 4:45 PM and both Margo and I were tired. For some reason the vacation was catching up with us, and we decided that a nap would do us the most good.
We went back to the hotel and did just that. We had a ghost tour scheduled for the Crescent Hotel at 7 PM. We were up 45 minutes before that, and back in the car feeling mostly refreshed. The Crescent Hotel is probably the nicest in Eureka Springs. It is definitely the most famous. It got that way because of a man named Norman Baker. He was a lot of things, but in Eureka he was Cancer Cure Specialist. His cure was nothing of the sort and lots of people died under his care. He made a lot of money off of their misery and wild stories, most of which are likely false permeate the internet and the history books. But make no mistake, he was a snake oil salesman of the first order and he did time (for mail fraud, as he made his claims using the US post office) for what happened at the Crescent.
The tour itself was a mixture of fact, conjecture, and some a bit of stretching the truth. I think our guide stayed away from outright fiction, but I suspect a few of the stories are apocryphal. But, we got to see a lot of the hotel; much more than I would have expected. This hotel used to have a morgue, back from the Norman Baker days. Our guide was an obvious believer in ghosts (even though she claimed to only have opened her mind some) and carried around an Electromagnetic Field reader, which would flash and beep all over the place. She said she was a former science teacher from back in Texas, but seemed to have suspended her belief in science where it conflicted with her belief in ghosts. But, if it allowed me to see so many different areas of the hotel from the top floor to the basement, I guess we can hunt Bigfoot in the morning. The morgue was just a small 8 x 10 empty room, that sat off the original kitchen, complete with an old sink dominated, prep area that looks like it came straight out of a 50s horror movie. Old, calcification, damp, and more menacing that it should have been.
We did have fun and we were going to eat at the Pizza place on the top floor, but it was more bar than restaurant, and a guy was complaining about how long it was taking to get his pizza. We ended up eating at a fair BBQ joint called “Bubba’s” that was on the way back to our hotel. We just made it before they closed down. I had a brisket sandwich. Margo had the pork shoulder and we sampled each other’s. They were both pretty good, as was their sauce. The coleslaw was too vinegary for my taste, but that did not stop me from eating most of it.
We got back to the hotel and I messed on the internet and got a few more lines of the trip on paper, getting a head start on my letter for this week. I started it on Monday morning, while Margo finished getting ready. I never cease to amaze myself over how long winded I get on these vacation letters. I wonder if anyone starts saying “Blah Blah Blah” as they read them and skip a few paragraphs to see if it gets any better. Spoiler alert. It doesn’t.
We went back to the hotel and did just that. We had a ghost tour scheduled for the Crescent Hotel at 7 PM. We were up 45 minutes before that, and back in the car feeling mostly refreshed. The Crescent Hotel is probably the nicest in Eureka Springs. It is definitely the most famous. It got that way because of a man named Norman Baker. He was a lot of things, but in Eureka he was Cancer Cure Specialist. His cure was nothing of the sort and lots of people died under his care. He made a lot of money off of their misery and wild stories, most of which are likely false permeate the internet and the history books. But make no mistake, he was a snake oil salesman of the first order and he did time (for mail fraud, as he made his claims using the US post office) for what happened at the Crescent.
The tour itself was a mixture of fact, conjecture, and some a bit of stretching the truth. I think our guide stayed away from outright fiction, but I suspect a few of the stories are apocryphal. But, we got to see a lot of the hotel; much more than I would have expected. This hotel used to have a morgue, back from the Norman Baker days. Our guide was an obvious believer in ghosts (even though she claimed to only have opened her mind some) and carried around an Electromagnetic Field reader, which would flash and beep all over the place. She said she was a former science teacher from back in Texas, but seemed to have suspended her belief in science where it conflicted with her belief in ghosts. But, if it allowed me to see so many different areas of the hotel from the top floor to the basement, I guess we can hunt Bigfoot in the morning. The morgue was just a small 8 x 10 empty room, that sat off the original kitchen, complete with an old sink dominated, prep area that looks like it came straight out of a 50s horror movie. Old, calcification, damp, and more menacing that it should have been.
We did have fun and we were going to eat at the Pizza place on the top floor, but it was more bar than restaurant, and a guy was complaining about how long it was taking to get his pizza. We ended up eating at a fair BBQ joint called “Bubba’s” that was on the way back to our hotel. We just made it before they closed down. I had a brisket sandwich. Margo had the pork shoulder and we sampled each other’s. They were both pretty good, as was their sauce. The coleslaw was too vinegary for my taste, but that did not stop me from eating most of it.
We got back to the hotel and I messed on the internet and got a few more lines of the trip on paper, getting a head start on my letter for this week. I started it on Monday morning, while Margo finished getting ready. I never cease to amaze myself over how long winded I get on these vacation letters. I wonder if anyone starts saying “Blah Blah Blah” as they read them and skip a few paragraphs to see if it gets any better. Spoiler alert. It doesn’t.
Day Six---Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Tuesday the 14th came around and I woke up rested. The most rested I have been in I can’t remember when. I was showered and ready before Margo, so I worked on this letter and then we went downstairs for breakfast. This hotel is the first of the three to have a decent breakfast in the morning. The others have offered cold items, and not much of those. The hotel grounds are very pretty. The hotel is built on the side of a hill (like everything else) and there are stairs leading down to a fountain and some trails that tour the wooded grounds. I don’t think they go very far. The rest of the grounds are covered in flowers and ornamental plants. It is very pretty and like so much of this trip, tranquil and relaxing. A person could get used to it.
With breakfast out of the way, we went into town for our 3rd tour of the trip; Hellraisers, Hoodlums, and Heat History. This was a walking tour of downtown, featuring some of the characters that have visited the town. I don’t know how much of that I want to try to commit to paper, but I will get started and see where that takes me. Our guide, Christy, a local girl maybe a few years older than Margo and I, but much more fit. Walking those hilly streets of Eureka Springs would do that, started by telling us about the history of the town.
The tour started by a large cardboard cutout picture of Carrie Nation and her hatchet. We were told we would get to her later, but first she told us a bit about the history of Eureka Springs. It was Osage Indian territory and it was also sacred ground, at least partly because of the “healing waters”. The area was at least partially open to other tribes, depending on who was telling the story. We heard it four times. Either you needed Osage permission, or not, but either way, no weapons were allowed in the area.
We were told several stories of the miraculous healing powers of the 60 plus springs in the area; from curing an Indian maid of blindness to healing a judge’s leg infection. I’m not buying it, at least not most of it. Good pure water is essential for good health, so having that in your diet was certainly a plus. But, most of the rest is probably coincidence or a case of being in a new environment away from the toxins that were causing your ailment back home, probably explained the rest. The stories of those who showed up and died were left out.
With breakfast out of the way, we went into town for our 3rd tour of the trip; Hellraisers, Hoodlums, and Heat History. This was a walking tour of downtown, featuring some of the characters that have visited the town. I don’t know how much of that I want to try to commit to paper, but I will get started and see where that takes me. Our guide, Christy, a local girl maybe a few years older than Margo and I, but much more fit. Walking those hilly streets of Eureka Springs would do that, started by telling us about the history of the town.
The tour started by a large cardboard cutout picture of Carrie Nation and her hatchet. We were told we would get to her later, but first she told us a bit about the history of Eureka Springs. It was Osage Indian territory and it was also sacred ground, at least partly because of the “healing waters”. The area was at least partially open to other tribes, depending on who was telling the story. We heard it four times. Either you needed Osage permission, or not, but either way, no weapons were allowed in the area.
We were told several stories of the miraculous healing powers of the 60 plus springs in the area; from curing an Indian maid of blindness to healing a judge’s leg infection. I’m not buying it, at least not most of it. Good pure water is essential for good health, so having that in your diet was certainly a plus. But, most of the rest is probably coincidence or a case of being in a new environment away from the toxins that were causing your ailment back home, probably explained the rest. The stories of those who showed up and died were left out.
Anyway the tour went on and we learned about the 1922 Bank Robbery. It was not successful. Two bank robbers dead, two more shot to pieces and then crashed into a pole, and all money recovered. We went into the 1905 Basin Hotel, and into a back room, in which on wall looked to be the mountain. This is where slot machines were set up and gamblers from all over the Midwest would come down for some action. That and the liquor were all illegal, and came to a halt in the mid-1950s with the election of a sheriff not susceptible to bribes.
Finally we got around to Carrie Nation, who semi-retired to Eureka Springs. At first the anti-liquor Mayor was happy to have the most prominent member of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union in his town, but the whole town soon tired of her hatchet antics and she was banned from downtown. This did not stop her from give lectures on evils of drink and during one such speech at Basin Springs Park she had a stroke and collapsed. She was taken to Kansas where she died.
During our tour we learned there would be a tour of the Eureka Springs Underground at 4 PM. It was about 12:00 noon by now, so we had plenty of time to decide if that sounded like fun. We would ultimately decide that was a good idea. In the interim we had shopping for junk to do and lunch. Lunch was at the Balcony Restaurant in the 1905 Basin Hotel. It was very hot and humid, low 90s with 60% humidity, but the balcony was tolerable, with the occasional breeze, and the misters that were set up. Shopping was mostly uneventful. We came across a shop in had “working bunnies”. When you made a purchase, a large rabbit would give you a pen. The owner gave the rabbit a pen and he spit it out in front of you. The bunny would had you the credit card slip to sign, and give you an autographed receipt. The autograph was where the rabbit had taken a bite out of it. It was certainly original, and drew a crowd when we checked out.
We also ran across a bookstore that annoyed me a bit. The sign in the storefront told you there was no cellphone usage permitted in the store. Ok, whatever. If the phone rings I will go outside. Then I listened to her vent on a customer about how people can’t turn off their phones while on vacation and enjoy it and I immediately thought “Who the hell is she to tell anyone how to live their lives. She doesn’t know what they have going on in their lives” She does have a point to an extent, but between this little lecture and her sign, it sounds like this is a calling for her. Then when I looked at her books and the broad selection of liberal thinking authors, and the absence of the William F Buckley ilk, I decided she had nothing in that store for me. She is perfectly within her rights to set the conditions of use of her establishment and control the stock, but in turn I am free to patronize her competition in turn. We did. Between all of our stops Margo and I brought home 10 different books. She sold us zero.
Finally we got around to Carrie Nation, who semi-retired to Eureka Springs. At first the anti-liquor Mayor was happy to have the most prominent member of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union in his town, but the whole town soon tired of her hatchet antics and she was banned from downtown. This did not stop her from give lectures on evils of drink and during one such speech at Basin Springs Park she had a stroke and collapsed. She was taken to Kansas where she died.
During our tour we learned there would be a tour of the Eureka Springs Underground at 4 PM. It was about 12:00 noon by now, so we had plenty of time to decide if that sounded like fun. We would ultimately decide that was a good idea. In the interim we had shopping for junk to do and lunch. Lunch was at the Balcony Restaurant in the 1905 Basin Hotel. It was very hot and humid, low 90s with 60% humidity, but the balcony was tolerable, with the occasional breeze, and the misters that were set up. Shopping was mostly uneventful. We came across a shop in had “working bunnies”. When you made a purchase, a large rabbit would give you a pen. The owner gave the rabbit a pen and he spit it out in front of you. The bunny would had you the credit card slip to sign, and give you an autographed receipt. The autograph was where the rabbit had taken a bite out of it. It was certainly original, and drew a crowd when we checked out.
We also ran across a bookstore that annoyed me a bit. The sign in the storefront told you there was no cellphone usage permitted in the store. Ok, whatever. If the phone rings I will go outside. Then I listened to her vent on a customer about how people can’t turn off their phones while on vacation and enjoy it and I immediately thought “Who the hell is she to tell anyone how to live their lives. She doesn’t know what they have going on in their lives” She does have a point to an extent, but between this little lecture and her sign, it sounds like this is a calling for her. Then when I looked at her books and the broad selection of liberal thinking authors, and the absence of the William F Buckley ilk, I decided she had nothing in that store for me. She is perfectly within her rights to set the conditions of use of her establishment and control the stock, but in turn I am free to patronize her competition in turn. We did. Between all of our stops Margo and I brought home 10 different books. She sold us zero.
The Underground tour began at the same spot as our morning tour and with the same guide. She retold us the early history of the town and then began explaining the underground. Eureka Springs is built between two mountains that are not very far apart. When it rains, Main Street would become Mud Street and was unfit for man or beast. The town’s fathers got together, and with the advent of the automobile they decided that the best way to keep things dry was to raise two of the streets, Main and Spring, in 1890. This was done and the businesses on those streets had to create another story to keep a front on the new level. Those lower levels became basements and portions were walled off, creating a series of tunnels. Some lost to history, others in partial use, still others known, but inaccessible either by design or collapse. Our guide is a self-described “tunnel rat”, having playing in these forbidden tunnels as a kid. Not many of portions are open, even for the tour, but we got to go in a couple, and it was pretty cool to see them from the inside, after had pointed out street grates and other openings where you could glimpse the underground from street level. We had a good time. She offered a third bite at the underground apple, but it was oppressively hot and uphill. Margo was out of gas, so we declined.
We had not yet made it to Christ of the Ozarks to see the 60 foot statue of Christ, so I talked a tired and hot Margo into driving the 2 miles to Shepard of the Hills Park where the statue resides. But, things did not work out as planned. They have parking for their outdoor theatre where The Great Passion Play is performed and then about ¾ of a mile away is the statue. Because of the layout of the park, you can see the statue. So we parked in the first lot we came to, near the theater and began to walk deeper into the parking lot. We came to a point, a 1 /4 mile away, where were rounded a bend and could see the statue, another ½ mile away. The walk back to the car in the near 100 degree temps on that asphalt lot discouraged us from wanting to make any more effort. We were just too hot and tired.
And hungry. It was about 6 PM so we went looking for a place to eat, that was not downtown. Downtown is nice, but Eureka Springs is very much a mountain town, with lots of uphill and not much parking. We wanted someplace where we could park and then walk a short distance to an air conditioned restaurant. As we were making our may out of town looking for a restaurant we drove past one of the few springs, which make up Eureka Springs, that is not closed up. Back in the 1970s the federal government convinced the town of Eureka Springs that the risk of some sort of bacterial bug causing legal troubles was greater than the advertised healing powers of the springs, which were not drawing tourists like they used to. So the city fathers created closed drainage systems that diverted the waters to Table Rock Lake. But not all, only the ones in town. The closest one that is not technically in town is Magnetic Springs. It was named such because the story is that any piece of iron dipped into the 57 degree water would turn into a magnet. This spring is the one we drove past, and we pulled over.
I told Margo it would cool by the spring and it was. This spring, and the remnants of the couple of others we had seen on our tours, are not in their original, natural state. They have been tamed and drain into a collection basin, which is covered. About the time we got there and got settled a family that had been on the last tour with us, had the same idea and stopped. The wife who was in flip flops wasted no time putting her feet in the moss lined basin. The sigh of relief she uttered was enough to convince me to do the same. 57 degrees is plenty cold, but I was still feeling the effects of all the walking and the heat. It did feel good. I soaked until my feet started to go a little numb. Margo just shook her head a refused to fight putting her socks on over wet feet. We were soon back in the hunt for a restaurant.
We tried several places around our hotel and found that Tuesdays were a good day to be closed in Eureka Springs. I guess this was so the family run places could make the weekend money, without working seven days a week. Understandable, but annoying, when you are hungry. We finally settled on Myrtie Mae’s Café, a rustic sounding restaurant inside a Best Western. It was very modern and the story of the restaurant was on the menu.
Myrtie Mae Barrett was a poor widow woman with six children, trying to scrape out a living in the 1920s. Poor, sick travelers were coming into the area looking for work or a cure and needed a place to eat. Myrtie hung our shingle and cooked up fried chicken dinners for those hungry travelers. Margo had liver and onions and I had the fried chicken. It was pretty good. Not the best I have had, but still pretty good. When we got back to the room, I decided I was just piqued enough about her story to see what I could find out about her. Using various sources, I determined she was a widow in 1920, did have six kids, and that her maiden name was Buker. She was not listed as a restaurant owner in either census I checked. One had her as a nurse and the other working in the farm business. But, that does not mean she did not operate a restaurant as a side business.
We had not yet made it to Christ of the Ozarks to see the 60 foot statue of Christ, so I talked a tired and hot Margo into driving the 2 miles to Shepard of the Hills Park where the statue resides. But, things did not work out as planned. They have parking for their outdoor theatre where The Great Passion Play is performed and then about ¾ of a mile away is the statue. Because of the layout of the park, you can see the statue. So we parked in the first lot we came to, near the theater and began to walk deeper into the parking lot. We came to a point, a 1 /4 mile away, where were rounded a bend and could see the statue, another ½ mile away. The walk back to the car in the near 100 degree temps on that asphalt lot discouraged us from wanting to make any more effort. We were just too hot and tired.
And hungry. It was about 6 PM so we went looking for a place to eat, that was not downtown. Downtown is nice, but Eureka Springs is very much a mountain town, with lots of uphill and not much parking. We wanted someplace where we could park and then walk a short distance to an air conditioned restaurant. As we were making our may out of town looking for a restaurant we drove past one of the few springs, which make up Eureka Springs, that is not closed up. Back in the 1970s the federal government convinced the town of Eureka Springs that the risk of some sort of bacterial bug causing legal troubles was greater than the advertised healing powers of the springs, which were not drawing tourists like they used to. So the city fathers created closed drainage systems that diverted the waters to Table Rock Lake. But not all, only the ones in town. The closest one that is not technically in town is Magnetic Springs. It was named such because the story is that any piece of iron dipped into the 57 degree water would turn into a magnet. This spring is the one we drove past, and we pulled over.
I told Margo it would cool by the spring and it was. This spring, and the remnants of the couple of others we had seen on our tours, are not in their original, natural state. They have been tamed and drain into a collection basin, which is covered. About the time we got there and got settled a family that had been on the last tour with us, had the same idea and stopped. The wife who was in flip flops wasted no time putting her feet in the moss lined basin. The sigh of relief she uttered was enough to convince me to do the same. 57 degrees is plenty cold, but I was still feeling the effects of all the walking and the heat. It did feel good. I soaked until my feet started to go a little numb. Margo just shook her head a refused to fight putting her socks on over wet feet. We were soon back in the hunt for a restaurant.
We tried several places around our hotel and found that Tuesdays were a good day to be closed in Eureka Springs. I guess this was so the family run places could make the weekend money, without working seven days a week. Understandable, but annoying, when you are hungry. We finally settled on Myrtie Mae’s Café, a rustic sounding restaurant inside a Best Western. It was very modern and the story of the restaurant was on the menu.
Myrtie Mae Barrett was a poor widow woman with six children, trying to scrape out a living in the 1920s. Poor, sick travelers were coming into the area looking for work or a cure and needed a place to eat. Myrtie hung our shingle and cooked up fried chicken dinners for those hungry travelers. Margo had liver and onions and I had the fried chicken. It was pretty good. Not the best I have had, but still pretty good. When we got back to the room, I decided I was just piqued enough about her story to see what I could find out about her. Using various sources, I determined she was a widow in 1920, did have six kids, and that her maiden name was Buker. She was not listed as a restaurant owner in either census I checked. One had her as a nurse and the other working in the farm business. But, that does not mean she did not operate a restaurant as a side business.
Day Seven--Wednesday, June 15, 2016
I told you I woke up Tuesday feeling very rested; all of that went out the window that night. I ended up with some sort of stomach ailment that had me up and down all night. Maybe it was Myrtie Mae’s food or something else I ate, but gastronomic effect was the same. We had a two hour drive a head of us and I was not looking forward to it. Margo was completely sympathetic and headed out to the store to get medicine, ice, and a new ice chest. This would be our third one. The prior two kept springing leaks. We ended up getting out of Eureka Springs much later than I had wanted to. I slept in, as did Margo. My stomach had me moving slowly and by the time all was said and done we were about an hour behind We would either make it up, or skip the Clinton Presidential Library. The latter was going to be close even if we were on schedule. They close at 5 PM and I figured at 3 PM arrival was going to be the best we could do.
The medicine kicked in slowly, and we stopped at Hindsville, AR for a bathroom break and gas. They had a small, but inviting at the place (Anderson’s) that we stopped at, so we decided to try a little breakfast. Margo was hungry even if I was only sort of hungry. I had a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, chips and a coke, I have been taking medicine to control my stomach acid for awhile. I have wondered if by changing the pH of my stomach with less acid that it would invite different and more upsetting bacteria to grow. I decided the Coke might help combat that. Besides it sounded good, too.
The medicine kicked in slowly, and we stopped at Hindsville, AR for a bathroom break and gas. They had a small, but inviting at the place (Anderson’s) that we stopped at, so we decided to try a little breakfast. Margo was hungry even if I was only sort of hungry. I had a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, chips and a coke, I have been taking medicine to control my stomach acid for awhile. I have wondered if by changing the pH of my stomach with less acid that it would invite different and more upsetting bacteria to grow. I decided the Coke might help combat that. Besides it sounded good, too.
We pulled into Fort Smith at about 11:45 AM. 10 AM had been my goal. Our first stop was Miss Laura’s, the Welcome center for Fort Smith. Miss Laura’s is also the last standing of seven bordellos that used to be there on B Street, right in a row. Belle Starr’s daughter ran one of the ones that is gone. Anyway, they have the place restored and decorated, an air conditioned. Even at this late AM hour it was sweltering. It was about 95 and the humidity was around 60%, per the weather man. There was a hear advisory in place. I don’t know why people would have to be told to stay inside if they had a choice, but I guess that is where we have regressed as a society. But, back to the whorehouse. We got a short tour and saw the rooms and Miss Laura’s room, parlor and such. We saw an authentic health certificate for one of the girls. Prostitution was legal at one point, and once a month each lady had to be certified as clean and healthy by the State of Arkansas. At the end of the tour, all lady members of our group were given their own Health Certificate. Margo has a physical coming up and is planning to take this to Dr Hamstra and show her that the State of Arkansas has already given her a clean bill of health.
After Miss Laura’s our plan was to ride the electric trolley, but when we got there, the place was wide open and completely unmanned. We did see the trolley several b locks down, apparently stalled on the track. Not a good sign and with the weather the way it was, we were not in a mood to just stand around and wait. So, on to the next place; Fort Smith National Historic Site. I was looking forward to this, as Fort Smith played an important part in the Old West. It was the judicial seat of power for Indian Territory (Oklahoma, before it became a state). This was where Hanging Judge Isaac Parker held court and sentenced over 80 people to hang. He was apparently against capital punishment, but said that it was his duty to follow the law, not his beliefs. I wish we had more judges with that attitude today. Quite a number of notable characters went before Judge Parker; Belle Starr, Cherokee Bill, The Rufus Buck gang, Henry Starr, and many more. Wyatt Earp was jailed at Fort Smith for horse stealing, but skipped bail and was never held to account.
I drug Margo to see the gallows, where were, and still are, behind a tall privacy fence. The hangings in Fort Smith were not a public spectacle and a ticket from the court was required to attend. They were generally given only to the press and other such interested parties. I was disappointed that there was no ropes hanging ready to be used, but I can guess why there are none, even though you are not permitted up on them. We went inside afterwards.
I drug Margo to see the gallows, where were, and still are, behind a tall privacy fence. The hangings in Fort Smith were not a public spectacle and a ticket from the court was required to attend. They were generally given only to the press and other such interested parties. I was disappointed that there was no ropes hanging ready to be used, but I can guess why there are none, even though you are not permitted up on them. We went inside afterwards.
It was very pleasant inside and were immediately ushered into see an introductory documentary. I found it very interesting, while Margo mostly dosed. Afterwards we went back to the desk and paid our admission. The ranger told us that there was a Heat Advisory, but we were still welcome, but he thought it too hot, to explore the grounds. Margo decided to agree with him. It was hot, but I was not planning to hike for hours. I figured on about 20 minutes to tour the grounds and I would join Margo. I was about right, seeing where the various building used to be, as well as the existing stone commissary. I enjoyed my stroll around the park. There were some shady areas where I could get a respite from the heat, and commissary was both open and a lot cooler.
Back inside Margo had scouted out the best of the museum inside We saw a mockup of the jail, including a cell we could go in and close the door. They were clean, well lit, and freshly painted. Based on accounts I have read, the actual Fort Smith prisoners would have considered this Ritz-Carlton accommodations compared to the real thing. We saw the Judges court and his chambers. Most of the original furnishings and decorations are long gone, or in storage. The court is used today for various things, so it makes sense to not use the valuable historic antiques. There was a bit more to see, but Margo was tired, my stomach had improved, but the lack of sleep and the heat had sapped me, no matter how tough I thought I was. Plus it was about 2:30 and we were hungry. So after a stop to the gift shop, where we spent way too much money on books that I will have no time to read, we were on our way.
Back inside Margo had scouted out the best of the museum inside We saw a mockup of the jail, including a cell we could go in and close the door. They were clean, well lit, and freshly painted. Based on accounts I have read, the actual Fort Smith prisoners would have considered this Ritz-Carlton accommodations compared to the real thing. We saw the Judges court and his chambers. Most of the original furnishings and decorations are long gone, or in storage. The court is used today for various things, so it makes sense to not use the valuable historic antiques. There was a bit more to see, but Margo was tired, my stomach had improved, but the lack of sleep and the heat had sapped me, no matter how tough I thought I was. Plus it was about 2:30 and we were hungry. So after a stop to the gift shop, where we spent way too much money on books that I will have no time to read, we were on our way.
I had remote hopes of making it to the Clinton Library. I have very little interest in his presidency, but his library has a recreation of the Oval Office, accurate to within a quarter inch. It also has a recreation of the Cabinet Room, where the president and his advisors meet. Both of those, I definitely wanted to see. As for lunch, I did not want fast food. In truth my ideal would have been a Cracker Barrel or Bob Evans. I was looking for something in which I could count on the quality and safety of the food, not wanting to stress my stomach any further. We got to about the halfway point, Russellville, before we found a Cracker Barrel. Stopping was mandatory by Russellville, as we were both very hungry. The Oval Office was just going to have to wait. We ate; I had Chicken & Dumplings, Margo had the “sides” plate. We both left full and happy.
An hour later, about 5::20 PM of so, we pulled into the Comfort Inn-Presidential, called such because it was a short drive from the Presidential Library. I picked it because it presented the best ratings vs cost ratio. I found out, but had already guessed the reason for both. The neighborhood was iffy, but it did not feel unsafe, at least during the day and we were not going anywhere. And, it really was a nice hotel. It seemed pretty new, or remodeled, and was clean and spacious. We had a dinner of pizza from the bar downstairs, and then just relaxed the rest of the evening. Neither of us felt like going to the River Market area, just to walk in the heat and shop for things that we did not need. There was nothing going on that cried out for our attention, so rest seemed like our best option. It was our last evening on vacation, and we were going out yawning. Tomorrow we would fly home.
An hour later, about 5::20 PM of so, we pulled into the Comfort Inn-Presidential, called such because it was a short drive from the Presidential Library. I picked it because it presented the best ratings vs cost ratio. I found out, but had already guessed the reason for both. The neighborhood was iffy, but it did not feel unsafe, at least during the day and we were not going anywhere. And, it really was a nice hotel. It seemed pretty new, or remodeled, and was clean and spacious. We had a dinner of pizza from the bar downstairs, and then just relaxed the rest of the evening. Neither of us felt like going to the River Market area, just to walk in the heat and shop for things that we did not need. There was nothing going on that cried out for our attention, so rest seemed like our best option. It was our last evening on vacation, and we were going out yawning. Tomorrow we would fly home.
Day Eight--Thursday, June 16, 2016
Thursday the trip home was uneventful. We had checked in about the time we were pulling into the parking lot of the trolley, the day before. We were approved for Precheck, so we weren’t in a big hurry to get to the airport for out 12:30 flight. We would be going to Phoenix and then transferring to our Denver plane, arriving about 4:30 PM. That is the way it worked out. We were a long time in the air, but other than that it was smooth. We ate dinner at Gunther Toody’s, a recreation of a 50s diner, that is near Brighton, and then went home. Margo unpacked and found that everything we had bought made it back in good condition. We bought plenty of fragile stuff, so that is a testament to Margo’s packing skills.