The Ozarkbahn

Missouri Derelicts and Highway History

2011-02-02T21:47:00.007-06:00

Secondary highway travel in the Ozarks is often a side show of the downtrodden and run down, a collective drive-through history of the cycle of attraction and commerce. Life-giving traffic and dollars take the path of least resistance via the newest and latest conveyances between two points. Ringing registers leave the beaten path for downturns and neglect, and the economic ruins in turn develop their own patina of interest. Let's stop for a couple of these sights along the way.

Skelly Gas Station
Highway 37 - Butterfield, MO
[Google Maps]

As we've seen in a past edition, I regard old service stations as a fascinating and essential hub of auto travel. One that I have passed with interest for years is a shabby Skelly Oil building beside Missouri 37 on the outskirts of the hamlet of Butterfield. The town is just a skip from the an 1860s stagecoach stop on the Butterfield Overland Trail route, but the vitality of history has long abandoned this gas stop. The Skelly Oil Wikipedia entry notes the chain was founded by oil entreprenuer Bill Skelly of Tulsa fame, and that the Skelly diamond was popular throughout the Midwest until the brand was merged with Getty Oil in 1977.

While the cinder block building is not especially stylish, it has not been razed even after decades of disuse and remains a capsule of former glory. Even the refrigerator cases remain inside, though much of the glass has been disturbed by bored vandals. The site has an interesting detached outdoor sale stand made of ornamental blocks so popular in the middle of the century. Out front, the weathered pumps without card readers make for a rare sight today, and the automobile service bays are an almost forgotten commodity. In an era of petroleum dominated by high-profile mega-corporations, a fairly intact station with regional branding is a uncommon find.

Truitt's Cave
Highway 59 - Lanagan, Missouri
[Google Maps]

Caves have always been a staple of Ozark roadside attractions. The region's limestone machinations lend themselves to ready-made underground tourist stops, but many cave operations suffered as the number of paying troglophiles left the back roads in favor of major interstate travel and attractions beyond. One local example is Truitt's Cave, with its shuttered facade still visible from Highway 59 in Lanagan, Missouri. As we saw in a previous post about the highway, it hosts plenty of reminders of better times along a once vibrant and colorful motor-tourism route. The town occupies a scenic plat along the Elk River, one worthy of a revival of fortunes.

In its heyday, Truitt's Cave was among a half-dozen run by spelunker mogul John Truitt. This one in particular held the distinction of being featured on Ripley's Believe It or Not for its underground dining hall, among other natural curiosities. Sadly, the majesty of geology was not strong enough for its latest owners to keep the doors open. On-site cabins are long gone, but the site does live on in model railroad form, though. Perhaps someday a well-heeled benefactor will bring the real town back to form.

A President in the Driver's Seat

2010-12-15T20:22:00.014-06:00

The road trip is a core American experience. Automobile travel is an intimate, personalized, and self-paced enterprise enabling boundless freedom to roam the expanses. The United States claims the most profuse border-free road network in the world, and its use by citizens is nearly universal. Even the leader of the free world has taken part in this great din of individualized motor-bound culture.

Harry S Truman: presidential-grade road-tripper.

I recently had chance to read Harry Truman's Excellent Adventure: the True Story of a Great American Road Trip by Matthew Algeo. The book explores a unique juncture of history when the man who helped win World War II, rebuild Europe, and deliver America into the Cold War left office to take the only post-presidential road trip in history. When the wheelman-in-chief and first lady left Missouri to see family and friends in Summer 1953, they went without the now-common luxury of private planes or Secret Service details. They humbly packed into Harry's own Chrysler New Yorker and added 2,500 miles to the odometer, much like any other couple on holiday to see New York City or Washington, D.C. Though life before presidential pensions made it a journey of affordability, he was a genuine fan of the open road, too.

As author Matthew Algeo finds, Harry Truman fully embraced the automotive age.

One might call Harry Truman a man cut from the same cloth as any Ozarkbahner. He was the president born nearest the Ozarks - in Lamar, Missouri - a town that lies in the transition between the hills to the South and the plains to the North. Truman was highly literate and a fan of history, but liked driving just as well. As Algeo quotes him, "I like to take trips - any kind of trip. They are about the only recreation I have besides reading." Truman was a bit of a gearhead, and even made his early political career campaigning for better roads. Consider me a fan.

["The Man Who Loved Roads" - U.S. Department of Transportation]

Harry Truman's Excellent Adventure introduces us to the unique and colorful world that the Trumans would have seen in their journey, a daily roster of novel hotels and greasy-spoon diners. Surprised and curious gawkers met them at every pit stop, and Algeo retraced their route for the book, interviewing many who encountered the president along the way. In addition to some interesting detours into the personality and politics of Truman and company, Algeo uncovered a lamentable degree of commercialization and sanitization that has overwhelmed roadside character. Though many shoddy dive restaurants and inns have thankfully shuttered since the 1950s, much of the unique roadside flavor has disappeared, too. Truman's fascination with the automotive age is shared far less today, a reality attributed in part to the homogenization of sights along the way.

In the spirit of good old fashioned car travel, I took my own road trip last Summer, visiting the birthplace and final resting place of Harry Truman in the same day.

Truman Birth home: humble beginnings for success.

Life for Harry began in modest surroundings, a compact 19th-century home featuring neither electricity or running water. A few blocks from downtown Lamar, the property is now thoughtfully preserved in a state nearest the time of his birth. The first floor contains a diminutive main room, kitchen, and bedroom, with a steep and narrow set of stairs leading to the master bedroom above. Quaint quarters compared to the White House.

Downtown Lamar, Missouri.

[Missouri State Parks: Harry S Truman Birthplace Historical Site]

Truman attended the site's dedication as a state park in 1959, complete with inaugural signature in the visitor registry, now on display. The frugal birth home is a keen reminder of the remarkable fortunes enjoyed by both Truman and Americans in general since the late 1800s.

Harry S Truman Library and Museum in Independence, Missouri.

[Truman Library official web site]

For most of his life, Truman resided in Independence, Missouri, on the Eastern side of Kansas City. The town is the home to this trip's other destination, the Harry S Truman Library and Museum. According to Algeo, Truman shunned self-promotion out of office and only allowed exhibits on his life with some coercion.

Post-war prosperity boomed in some quarters, but so did the red menace, real or imagined. Red Scare coal-stirrers like Richard Nixon were among the few individuals Harry Truman genuinely loathed.

Truman understood the magnitude of presidential history, and was more concerned with building a thorough research facility for generations to come. Unlike most contemporary ex-presidents, he refused the promise of substantial profit from commercial and speaking opportunities, feeling they would cheapen the prestige of office. Raising funds for a quality library held more noble appeal.

Weighty decisions had to be made throughout the Truman presidency, which was marked by conflict: World War, Cold War, and Korean War.

The library is consistently Truman-esq: a classy and historically thorough presentation, but a facility that is not obnoxiously flashy or overwrought. It's appropriate for someone who entered the international scene in a whirlwind as a relatively unknown figure, replacing the iconic four-term Franklin Roosevelt at the most pivotal point in the 20th-century. From county politics in the 1920s to charting America's path through into the Cold War in the 1940s, the breadth of study is enormous.

Truman's museum bears his legacy and his final resting place.

Sometimes interesting Americans are discovered on drives, but few are known for hitting the road themselves. The sum of my day trip and reading was the discovery of America's citizen president. Harry S Truman was a milestone statesman and loyal husband from the time when any Missouri farmer could be president and few could deny the charm of the Great American Road Trip.

Driven: Missouri 90

2010-11-15T20:21:00.013-06:00

As the Ozarkbahn speeds closer to its second anniversary, we're striking back at the center of this little world. Down past the leafy crust, through the layers of affable history and backwoods irony, all the way to the molten asphalt core. We need the joy of sawing blacktop spirals across middle-America's oasis of steeps and green. Eyes up, brakes hot, knuckles white.

Just the basics.

The here and now demands a drive on par with the raw theater of Arkansas 123, the darty tourist folds of US 62 near Eureka Springs, or the remote thrills of any number of rural twists across the Ozark Plateau. There are miles of greats out there, but one standout escapes notoriety among many locals. Though hilly and reliably scenic, the highway in this edition lacks a single towering peak, breathtaking overlook, or other postcard reprieve. So, what does it have going for it? It's only my favorite road in the Ozarks.

[Google Maps: Missouri 90 from Noel to Washburn]

Missouri 90 holds the core of what makes spirited driving lively and gratifying. It's a repeatably stirring drive with the elusive quality of flow, an engaging lineup of dips and turns that feed on the dynamism of momentum. Contrast this with so many grizzled Ozark highways that are abrupt, point-to-point jaunts between grades with a stop-and-go flavor. Gearheads readily laud the pomp and circumstance of a disjointed route peppered with sharp curves, but flow is substance. For most of its length, MO-90 loads and unloads a car's chassis with the fluidity of a racecar driver's most admired road course.

Pitching and rolling along the twists of Missouri 90.

Missouri 90's essential alchemy is that the route wasn't carved into the landscape, but draped over it. The asphalt rises and falls with the rolling Ozark hills, allowing the terrain's character to shine. According to Wikipedia, MO-90 was born among the early state-funded road works of the pre-war era, visible in its non-existent shoulders and well-cambered curves. The highway was never a major carrying route like nearby US 71, so it escaped the sanitizing effect of rock cuts, detours, widening, flattening and other dull modernization. It still slides under jutting rock faces at Noel, crosses a one-lane bridge East of Jane, and regularly crests blind hills into sharp turns.

Our drive's Western end by the bluffs overlooking the Elk River at Noel (pronounced NAHWL, for the non-Ozarkians).

Despite being somewhat old-fashioned in design, the current state of the road gives drivers generally smooth pavement and good markings. The result is something quick, nervy, and indulgent at full tilt, yet energizing and assuring at a moderated pace.

A one-lane bridge East of Jane suggests a slower way of life, but peaks and curves invite a quicker pace.

Slowpokes are the scourge of any fun road with limited passing opportunities, so MO-90's relatively light traffic is another element of its appeal. The highway doesn't connect any major population centers, and a lone general store at the intersection of MO-E is the only convenience between Noel and the terminus at Washburn. Most of the road's neighbors are small hilltop farms. Though pleasant days risk entanglement with slow-moving cruisers and other dawdlers, there's a fair chance of stealing some uninterrupted joy.

A decorated Phillips cottage-style gas station in Noel is among several roadside reminders of yore.

I should caution that my "favorite road" shouldn't necessarily mean your favorite. If the Ozarkbahn has any motive, it's simply to encourage motorkind to get out and explore the beauty and novelty of the seldom-traveled. Driving is a personal act. I have the opportunity to drive this highway dozens of times each year, which has earned it a sense of familiarity and a freedom to pursue at a stirring tempo. Everyone has license to discover their own blacktop provenance. However, if you need inspiration, Missouri 90 is my favorite place to start.

Traffic: mercifully cooperative
Driving challenge: enjoyable, but mind the far side of the hill
Purty mouth: it's a long walk to the nearest fillin' station
Ozarkbahn rating: "blacktop provenance." I like that. Let's go with that.

Lake Fort Smith State Park

2010-10-09T21:04:00.006-05:00

Through the lens of Ozark motoring, the city of Fort Smith, Arkansas, doesn't figure prominently. It's certainly an exciting melting pot of vehicular control, a cornucopia of driving techniques imported from the nations where its residents learned to drive. Still, its latitude South of our beloved green steeps puts its at a geographic disadvantage in discussions of things Ozarkian. That is, unless you count Lake Fort Smith State Park.

[Lake Fort Smith official site]

As a window on the Western United States, Arkansas was a settler's stumbling block. The Ozark Mountains were difficult to traverse, while the Arkansas River was swampy and perilous.

Fort Smith lies at the foot of Ozark Mountains in the Arkansas River Valley. Once a military outpost at the edge of the Indian Territory (now "Oklahoma" in politically correct quarters), it is one of the oldest and most historically significant places in Arkansas. The fort guarded the Trail of Tears and the Old Wire Road, and during lax times when the military wasn't looking, it became a haven for border-hopping scofflaws and nogoodniks. Thanks to the efforts of District Judge Issac "Justice Beard" Parker, the U.S. government hanged more individuals at Fort Smith than anywhere else in America. Happening place.

Great place for a sit, if you're into that.

Working the gallows built a mighty, mighty thirst, and by the 1930s Fort Smith was seeking a dependable municipal water supply. The Arkansas River, sixth largest in America and inches away from downtown, was eyed as the most likely source. However, the Depression-era federal government faced a frustrating surplus of idle socialists, and intervened with a plan to funnel crisp Ozark lake water from a remote point North in the Boston Mountains instead. By 1936, the Works Progress Administration had tapped scores of underemployed laborers to dam Frog Bayou near Mountainburg and return an ambitious 30-mile run of pipeline through the rugged hills.

Bucolic splendor at Lake Fort Smith.

The resulting Lake Fort Smith became not only a functional asset to its namesake, but a scenic wellspring of recreation for all of the Ozarks.

Lake Fort Smith is located a short drive East of Scenic Highway 71 roughly halfway between Fayetteville and Fort Smith. Given the scraggly terrain in this part of the Ozarks, it's surprising that there's enough level land to hold pavilions, campsites, a playground, a marina, and other delights for the outdoor-minded. It's all packed in there, along with some brand-spanking-new group lodging. Should you ever decide to promote synergy with your creepy extended family or abrasive co-workers, this seems like a pretty nice spot.

The animal friends of the Ozarks are represented well at the Visitor Center.

The park's role in Fort Smith history assumes a unique blend of Wild West and rich upland biology. The Visitor Center hosts exhibits ranging from frontier settlement to a hands-on wildlife. Yep, turtle-petting. Get you some of that.

Hiking to the extreme: the massive Ozark Highlands Trail begins at the Lake Fort Smith Visitor Center.

Interestingly, Lake Fort Smith was expanded a couple of years ago with the construction of a much larger dam. Lake Shepherd Springs just upstream was combined with the new, larger lake, and its dam was incorporated into the site of the new park. The Voltron of state parks? The original WPA constructions stood to be flooded or relocated, so they were dismantled. Still, some stones were reused in slick new facilities opened in 2008, so the current park carries on the legacy begun during the Great Depression.

Lake Fort Smith is quietly tucked away in folds of the Ozarks, but it's worth a detour.

When one tugs at a single thing in nature, he finds it attached to the rest of the world.
- John Muir

Stopover: Galena, MO

2010-09-04T23:03:00.011-05:00

Here's an Ozarkbahn truism: small towns often harbor great marvels. That's the case with Galena, Missouri, a particularly scenic plat of the Ozark Mountains near Table Rock Lake and nearby tourist mecca Branson.

[Galena, MO, on Google Maps]

Galena's local notoriety began a century ago as bucolic float-trip destination for those who could afford to vacation by train and the emerging automobile. Located on the James River, the town's most visible trade still seems to be catering to fishing and canoeing enthusiasts. Galena does possess one macabre footnote in history: the site of the last public execution in America. In 1937, the county courts tried and hanged Roscoe "Red" Jackson, an Ozarks native and transient worker convicted of shooting a traveling salesman. Gawkers flocked to the town square, a spectacle residents remembered with a mix of disgust and awe. The whole affair sounds like a pain in the neck to me.

Today, civic pride and upkeep remains evident around the Galena town square. Years of re-purposing fail to hide a neato bungalow-style service station down the street.

For road-going sightseers, Galena's one bona fide curiosity is its Art Deco highway bridge shaped like a Y. Opened in 1927, it spans the James River between the town proper and what is now Highway 248, an artery of local commerce and travel dating back to the 1800s. The bridge was split at the end to aid drivers turning onto the curvy highway perched on the bluffs opposite Galena. Given the tepid braking and handling abilities of pre-war autos, the unique design was well-appreciated and enthusiastically received.

The Galena Y-Bridge is one of the more elegant and purposeful public works in the Ozarks.

Hundreds of people crowded the town for the dedication of the Y-bridge. Such an occasion might not stir the same excitement today, but it makes one appreciate a time when the general public was still captivated by the potential of the open road. The liberating notion of mobility and romance of motor-tourism are fully taken for granted today, with cars widely regarded as appliances to isolate the journey rather than enhance it.

The Y-Bridge dedication, as shown on Bridgehunter.com. The narrow 1910 steel bridge it replaced can seen in the background.

The Y-bridge was still a marvel in the early twentieth century based on practical reasons, as well. Accessibility was the historic challenge of the Ozarks, where steep valleys made river crossings a temperamental enterprise at the mercy of seasonal flooding. The proliferation of automobiles in the 1920s loosened state and federal road funding in Missouri, fostering a flurry of bridge construction in the area. At 764 feet long, the Galena structure was one of the larger undertakings in the Ozarks for the time, and a major asset to the town's tourist trade.

Modernity on the March. Concrete pylons remain from a narrow 1910 steel bridge that the Y-Bridge replaced. Turn your gaze 180 degrees, and the newer roadway bridge built in the 1980s can be seen. Despite its age and closure, the Y-bridge remains open to pleasant pedestrian views.

Ultimately, the Great Depression, steady rise of Branson, and attraction of surrounding lakes diverted the attention of many visitors away from the James River's banks. The Y-bridge now rests on the National Register of Historic Places, and Galena has survived time and floods to show pedestrians where progressive inspiration meets natural beauty.

From Camp Crowder to Camp Swampy

2010-08-08T21:19:00.012-05:00

"You're not going to put this on your blog, are you?"

I stuffed my camera back in my pocket. "Nah, probably not."

Several months ago, some friends and I were scouting the desolate remains of the U.S. Army's Fort Crowder near Neosho, Missouri, for possible use in organizing outdoor events. We had permission to be there from the current owner, Crowder College, but exploring the derelict military installation seemed like a clandestine operation. Not for public consumption, and definitely not for blogging.

As I discovered, the site's history is too interesting to keep to myself.

Camp Crowder

Camp Crowder started life as an Army Signal Corps training base built during World War II. At its peak, its operations expanded to roughly 45,000 people stationed across a sprawling city of soldiers, block after block of barracks and drilling grounds. Crowder's ranks saw everything from basic training to specialized communications instruction, and even Axis prisoners of war.

Postcard from Flickr user "Smaddy."

Colorful visitors: Senator Harry Truman (born in nearby Lamar, MO), Cary Grant, and Congressman and necktie enthusiast Dewey Short. Images courtesy of the Missouri State Archives.

Swastikas marking the funeral of a German captive. Images courtesy of the Missouri State Archives.

Links ahoy:
[Missouri State Archives: Camp Crowder Photograph Collection]
[Newton County History]
[Camp Crowder postcard history]

Camp Swampy

Cartoonist Mort Walker, creator of comic strip Beetle Bailey and its spin-off television shorts, was stationed at Crowder during the Big One. When the comic strip began in 1950, Walker had no want for material - gags follow the toils and characters of base life.

No coincidences: Camp Swampy is Camp Crowder.

Among today's old, weathered stop signs and concrete footings was the ever-aloof Private Bailey, getting his neck wrung by the Sarge for napping against a half-painted door. We've seen how the L'il Abner comic was a uniquely Ozarkian endeavor, spawning its own "Dogpatch U.S.A." theme park near Jasper, Arkansas. Here is another real-life standard straight out of the Sunday funny pages.

Inspiring decades of worked shrugged by Private Bailey. Images courtesy of the Missouri State Archives.

Neither gender or racial sensitivity was up to modern norms, but look, there was a war on.
Rubber band gun from Volume 22.

Crowder's role diminished after the war, briefly becoming a rocket testing ground before dividing the land among Crowder College, the National Guard, and local industry. Most of the infrastructure was sold or demolished, but the more permanent works in asphalt and concrete remain. A web personal favorite of mine, Underground Ozarks, has some pictures of areas we were not able to cover.

Among the relics: a rusty desk, oil drums, and concrete blocks marked with weights of odd accuracy.

Touring the old base, the one thing that stands out is the remarkable pace of nature. Constructions erected with even military efficiency are no match for the Ozarks' relentless green tide. Trees grow in the middle of old roads, and herds of white-tailed deer roam the fields where neat rows of buildings once stood. Any low spot in the soil became fair game for a frog pond.

General Halftrack is long gone from Camp Crowder, and the past has faded rapidly. Like Beetle Bailey, Mother Nature is not one to take orders.

Vanning Out with Craigslist

2010-07-19T21:27:00.006-05:00

The full-sized van is America's spiritual canvas. We're a nation on the move, and a shed on wheels lets us roam without stranding a single piece of emotional or physical baggage. Some vans are luxury conversions shuttling the whole entourage to the tailgate party, while others are windowless beasts of burden. At work or play, vans have carried our most colorful characters, including Uncle Rico, the Bad News Bears, and the A-Team. Charles Bukowski even made a cameo running a wet t-shirt contest in the 1977 vanning freakout, SuperVan.

[Charles Bukowski SuperVan cameo]
Headlights warning, but if your boss doesn't think this is hip, get a new job.

A van is diversely utilitarian, yet sometimes a little odd and socially obtuse. Even the layout is a little off. The interior's console hump hides the engine tucked up near your ankles, and the cavernous rear cargo area carries payloads in fishy anonymity. Worse, high-profile vanners like John Wayne Gacy and Phillip Garrido have earned these vehicles a measure of nefarious mystery. The stigma is so common that web site Suspiciousvans.com does a thriving trade in sharing the most dubious examples captured on the road, with hilarious results.

As we've seen already, I'm a compulsive Craigslist window-shopper. When it comes to vans, the Ozarks have plenty to offer.

Bro Van

Let's be fair. Not all of these hefty haulers are tools of the criminal element. The idea for this post began with an inspiring Craigslist listing dealing with the favorite Ozarkbahn subject: road trips. Three friends purchased "Van Damme" to take on a 3,000-mile journey, and along the way the red Dodge endeared itself as "the 4th member of our trip." Any plebeian SUV or sedan could have fit the bill, but a conversion van has soul. Hard-drinking, bear-wrestling soul.

Calling Dispatch

I have watched an awful lot of the disco-era California highway cop drama CHiPs, and the message about vans is a bit different. If Baker and Ponch taught us anything, it's that shifty old vans can never be trusted. If you saw this tint-sided "mystery van" weaving down the Santa Monica Freeway today, it's definitely full of stolen microchips and Firebird parts.

You Sure Ask a lot of Questions

One has to admire the simplicity of the advertising. No need to embellish. It has an automatic and V8, and it runs. Got $600? Then you have yourself a van. No back seats come with the deal, as they were not needed in it's previous line of work. The brevity makes us wonder, though. Did it belong to an electrician? Drug mule? Serial groper? Uncle Walter?

Coyote Ugly

If burnouts and fast getaways are on the itinerary, this four-speed manual transmission Econoline is the one to get. The panel sides keep the heist under wraps until you crash through the bank door, and the twin gas tanks feeding a 4.9L V8 make the Mexican border appear that much faster.

Free Candy

Okay, maybe my imagination takes liberties, but this 1961 Ford Molesterline may have a few skeletons in the closet. Clowns, ponies, balloons, and from the looks of it, chloroform rags. If Stephen King were serving up rocket pops, this might fit the bill. The rest of us would do well to keep the children at arm's length when this one rolls through the neighborhood.

[Sound of brakes locked up / sliding door opens / tires squeal away]

See you later. I hope.

Driven: Missouri DD

2010-06-30T22:28:00.008-05:00

The Old Wire Road Project was quite a detour. An ambling hop down a quiet nowhere road revealed an unexpectedly rich Ozark narrative, charting a flourish from dusty wagon trail to unlikely pivot of American commerce. We could follow this track indefinitely, but the Ozarkbahn is an exercise in mobility. People to see, things to do. Time to hit the road.

Before you loosen the chin strap on your learning helmet, recall that Arkansas' hesitant membership in the losing side of the War of Northern Aggression earned it no favors. The economic setbacks tendered in the nineteenth century are even visible in the Old Wire Road itself, where it trades gravel for blacktop at the state line. This field trip down Missouri DD begins with a thwump as the original 'bahn leaves the South for now-paved Union territory.

Guess where Arkansas ends and Missouri begins. No cheating.

A marker for a Civil War skirmish at Potts Hill is the only ceremony offered at the border, but something about the tidy pavement's edge takes on additional fascination. Here is a Mile Marker Zero, a place where old ventures end and a fresh batch of asphalt invites new exploits. A clean break.

Like the most angular sections of Ozarkbahn favorite Arkansas 123, Missouri DD looks and drives less like a modern highway and more like the unpaved path on which it was based. The asphalt tenuously clings to the often narrow creek bank at the base of Lennox Mountain, leaving little margin for error. While the DD-grade curves are entertaining and scenic, there are no guardrails to lift and separate the overeager from unintended motorboating.

Rustic storage at roadside.

The road follows a unique and simple Missouri naming convention. Like cords on a banjo, the more letters you pluck, the more twang you'll get. Major highways are numbered, intermediates receive a single letter, and the backroads take two letters. The Alphabetical highways were a mid-century state project to bring the all-American joy of paved driving within a few miles of nearly every person, place, and thing in the Show Me State. Most of these lettered roads are short jaunts into lightly traveled terrain, creating often engaging fractals of asphalt throughout the Ozarks. Names were frequently recycled from county to county with no spatial relationship, so you'll encounter DD's all over Missouri.

[Highway DD in Barry County, MO, on Google Maps]

Our MO-DD started as a farm-to-market road, which means the local trade remains quaint and unassuming small-scale agriculture. Still, the inbr...err, innate Ozark character glows intensely. MO-DD features the finest feat of postal engineering in America, a mailbox magnifique combining the most expert hillbilly building techniques: collecting junk and stacking junk.

Rejecting art's traditional aesthetic, this mailbox masterpiece channels Marcel Duchamps with materials likely re-purposed from a local ravine.

While the above route in is not a lengthy drive, it is rich in context, linking the Old Wire Road with the excellent Missouri Highway 112 and Roaring River State Park, seen previously. This section of MO-DD terminates in Seligman, a town with history as a trading post dating back to the times of earliest American settlement in the Ozarks. As the Rootsweb Focus on Seligman web page shows, Seligman grew swiftly with the introduction of a railroad line after the Civil War. Today the formerly bustling downtown is bypassed by the latest alignment of the Old Wire Road, Highway 37, and now sits largely disused. Still, a few roadside gems remain. One is the former Linden Motel, A turn-of-the-century construction that was moved down the street from its original location in the 1920s (yeah, wow), then given the native stone exterior that still stands today.

Compare to the original photo from Focus on Seligman. Same building.

Missouri Highway DD: short, curvy, and full of personality. You could do worse.

Traffic: doesn't really register
Driving challenge: mind the crick and roadside art
Purty mouth: yours is looking real good-like
Ozarkbahn rating: were you expecting a "DD" to be anything less?

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Pea Ridge National Military Park

2010-05-31T17:55:00.011-05:00

Memorial Day commemorates America's young, but undaunted history of armed involvement on the international scene. We most commonly recall trench scenes in Europe and island clashes in the Pacific, but some of the most brutish fighting seen by Americans happened right here in the Ozarks along the Old Wire Road.

The Battle of Pea Ridge was a crucial step the American Civil War, and a milestone event in local history. During the war, control of the Ozarks between Springfield and the Arkansas border became essential to securing the pivotal state of Missouri and key to commanding the destiny of the Western United States. The North and the South each had designs on ultimately ruling Missouri, the only state above the Mason-Dixon Line the that allowed slavery. Their armies forced the issue during the icy Winter of 1862.

[Battle of Pea Ridge at Wikipedia]

The Pea Ridge visitor's center was recently expanded with new videos and displays. The tour road makes a stop at the hill overlooking the main battlefield.

Tens of thousands of soldiers met at what is now Pea Ridge National Military Park in far Northwest Arkansas, a few miles South of the Missouri border. The area's mixture of brushy woods, spiked ridges, and open pasture are maintained in the same state as found in the middle of the 19th century, and visitors can explore the park by car, foot, bike, or even horseback. As mentioned before, one of earliest and best-preserved segments of the Butterfield Overland Route - the original Ozarkbahn - lies within park boundaries.

Hiking trails criss-cross the park. Little Mountain, which hid Confederate troop movements, can be seen in the distance from the Elkhorn Ridge overlook.

[Pea Ridge National Military Park at U.S. National Park Service]

While the setting is serene, the action in March 1862 was hard-fought and grim. United States General Samuel Curtis had chased Confederate forces back into Arkansas until supply lines ran thin. Expecting an imminent counterattack up the Old Wire Road, an outnumbered Union Army dug into the high ground along Sugar Creek, just South of Pea Ridge. Southern General Earl Van Dorn sensed an opportunity to cut Curtis off entirely, and used the cover of darkness and nearby hills to secret his forces around to the Union's rear flank.

The Union fortifications along the Old Wire Road at Little Sugar Creek never saw battle, but the soldiers entrenched there had to perform a hasty about-face to meet the Confederate forces.

The result was a series of fierce, confused melees in close quarters and frigid conditions. The Rebels emerged from the woods to capture Elkhorn Tavern, an advantageous point along the Old Wire Road, but failed to capitalize on their position. They were ultimately repulsed the following day in one of the Civil War's largest confrontations West of the Mississippi.

[Battle of Pea Ridge at the Encyclopedia of Arkansas]

The Union Army had pushed the Confederates out of Missouri for good, but the Battle of Pea Ridge was costly. There were over 3,000 casualties combined, and the developing economy of Northwest Arkansas was savaged. The Confederacy burned any infrastructure of civilization deemed beneficial to the enemy, including War Eagle Mill, most of Fayetteville, and the Van Winkle sawmill operation that formed the basis for Hobbs State Conservation Area. A significant depopulation followed, and the lay of contemporary Northwest Arkansas would have to rise from that ruin.

Elkhorn Tavern and the now-defunct hamlet of Leetown were used to treat the masses of injuries.

Pea Ridge National Military Park is fateful ground. What if the risky Confederate assault at Pea Ridge had been successful? What if the Union's campaign against the South had followed a different path through the Ozarks? Would have the businesses and fortunes of today's biggest economic drivers locally - WalMart, Tyson, J.B. Hunt, the University of Arkansas, and so on - taken root without the heavy hand of war?

Years after the battle, veterans from both sides gathered at Elkhorn Tavern. Pea Ridge would not gain National Park status until the Eisenhower era.

No matter what, war extracts a grizzly toll, especially when it destroys from within. The well-tended beauty of Pea Ridge is a striking memorial to soldiers who took part in a chapter of conflict where every victory was an exercise in American self-defeat, but bravery was on high form.

Fayetteville Parks and Recreation

2010-04-30T09:53:00.011-05:00

Over the centuries, the Old Wire Road through the Ozarks has become a mosaic of quiet dirt roads, city streets, and modern highways that can still be walked or driven. However, one section now sleeps with the fishes. Lake Fayetteville hides the original road at a point just South of the last town featured, Springdale, Arkansas. The lake was flooded in 1949 as a municipal water supply, only to be dwarfed less than twenty years later by the creation of the much more voluminous Beaver Lake for nearby water needs. For decades, Lake Fayetteville was like Rogers' Lake Atalanta in that there was little traffic beyond biology class field trips and fishing. Luckily, a recent surge of attention is changing that.

[City of Fayetteville: Lake Fayetteville Park]

We have already read how Heritage Trail Partners, Inc., is looking to make the historic Old Wire Road a local attraction by establishing it as the main artery for a regional network of walking and cycling trails. No one in the area has embraced the concept more thoroughly than Fayetteville, which already has a broad paved highway grid for people-powered travel. One of the most popular portions of the trail network is the freshly minted five-mile loop around Lake Fayetteville, currently open and nearing full pavement completion as of this writing. The city even recognizes the historical value of the Butterfield Overland Route that made the most notorious use of the Old Wire Road.

[Fayetteville Flyer: Butterfield Trail Wayside Plaza dedicated]

The trail harbors its share of bucolic wooded scenes, but it also features a rather neat human-made view where it crosses the lake's spillway. Given the bridge's isolation from any roadside viewing, the gesture to style over a simpler lowest-bidder solution is uncommon and appreciated.

The most impressive sight on the Lake Fayetteville trail is the Botanical Garden of the Ozarks, occupying city lands on the lake's Eastern shore. The Garden is a non-profit, volunteer-driven showcase of floral creativity that officially opened for public enjoyment in 2006, and continues to plot expansion. It has a novel division of greenery into themed areas with artful installations, including a Japanese Garden, Children's Garden, and Ozark Native plants installation. Concerts, farmers' markets, and trail access points bolster the attraction.

* The local recreational opportunities are excellent, but this entry comes stamped with an asterisk. Every post to date has been a call to drive, see, and enjoy the fruits of motoring. An unfortunate reality is that Fayetteville, seat of the University of Arkansas and my home town, does not lend itself to an especially convincing study of the romantic roadside Americana. Some parts of Fayetteville are an Ozarkbahn antithesis, spurning cars and the freewheeling spirit of travel with a labyrinth of often steep, narrow streets choked with speed tables and restrictive parking ordinances. The terrain-driven street discontinuity and college-town eco-idealism express a minor, but surly intolerance for the automobile, the essential tool for Ozark pathfinders. Quite a few locals would recommend you abandon internal combustion and strictly operate by bicycle.

Why should this bother us? America's love of road-going mobility and roadside attractions, once strong at mid-20th-century, has dwindled into begrudgingly accepting cars as a means to an end. Now that cars are widely regarded as burdensome pollutant-coughing appliances, rather than lusty accessories to life's journey, the joy of travel and everything along the way is dying, as well.

Still, Fayetteville has a laudable insistence for ever-expanding public recreation, such as park space, art walks, and concerts. In grasping for communal sensibilities, the town seems more inclined to grow deliberately in order to minimize creeping suburban anonymity. Fayetteville is not a flavor that always suits the pallet of driving enthusiasts, but it is a unique one. Possession of personality in itself warrants an Ozarkbahn honorable mention, for it motivates us as roving enthusiasts to seek new and different experiences. Lake Fayetteville, for example. If you happen to enjoy greenways as much as byways, Fayetteville does it the best in the Ozarks.

Stopover: Springdale, AR

2010-03-31T22:00:00.012-05:00

The Old Wire Project was bound to go South at some point. After touring the history and sights of Benton County in far Northwest Arkansas, let's cross the border into Washington County below and visit the working Ozarkbahner's town, Springdale. A backbone of local industry, the town has sometimes been painted as less than cosmopolitan. Any negative assessments are unfair, as we'll find any blue-collar connotations have only added to the uniqueness and color of the Ozarks.

[Google Maps: Springdale, AR]

Downtown Springdale

Sure, we have to get an easy one out of the way: a few parts of town smell. Springdale is home to Tyson Foods, the largest meat producer in America. Sometimes the scores of processing plants and grain silos in town share their aroma with their local neighborhoods, a fact we shared frequently at my high school one town over. You might call it an odor, but I call it character. Monumental character.

Pictures of Springdales's giant poultry and many more are available from the Debra Jane's Roadside Architecture web site (left) and Jim's Big Things page (right)

A six-foot chicken and turkey guard the entrance to 4-State Poultry Supply on Robinson Avenue, and the Allen Canning Company on Thompson has a Popeye statue that is a regular fascination of drunken pranksters. Toot, toot. Also, the previously mentioned Funland putt-putt T-Rex watches over Highway 412 just East of town. Two thousand years from now, archaeologists will be making some awkward assumptions about Springdale.

[Google Street View of 4-State Poultry Supply]

Antique egg incubator, Hispanic flavor, pious roots

We can't joke too much, though. The Old Wire Road corridor has been been paved with gold for a few titans of business. Chicken farmer John Tyson sired a Depression-era hatchery into huge wealth, and neighbors Sam Walton of Wal*Mart fame and trucking moguls Harvey Jones and J.B. Hunt laughed all the way to the bank along with him. Their thriving international business has earned Springdale one of the most prolific expressions of cultural diversity in mid-America. How about the largest concentration of Marshallese outside the Marshall Islands? Latin America is best represented, creating a Pan-American dynamic that blends Bible Belt sensibility with a young and entrepreneurial Hispanic culture.

One of my favorite local ventures is the Pontiac Coffee House on Thompson Street. It occupies the former Charlesworth Pontiac (later, Steve Smith GMC-Jeep) building, a model post-war mid-century dealership from an architectural standpoint. The Pontiac offers coffee, smoothies, baked goods, gifts, and even a church inside. For enterprising Ozarkbahners, the real prize is their preservation of automobilia, like the 1954 Pontiac convertible in the former showroom.

For many years, Charlesworth was also a American Motor Company franchise, pedaling wonderfully oddball big-three alternatives like the Rambler, Pacer, and Matador. Their display case contains cool articles from the era of Internationals, Renaults, Eagles, and so many forgotten and unloved AMC marques from America's motoring past. I mean, they have an original toy AMC Gremlin on display. Hallowed ground.

The Pontiac isn't Springdale's only exhibition of throwback horsepower. The Arkansas and Missouri Railroad is headquartered downtown, and runs a fleet of locomotives from ALCO, a manufacturer that did not survive the 1960s. Among railroading buffs, their operation would be akin to a taxi company or delivery service doing business with a pool of AMC Ramblers. The A&M headquarters is a rolling museum where ALCO diesel-electric units from all over North America are scavenged for parts and restored for service, making it a curiosity for all manner of gearheads.

Downtown signage

For the guardians of a wider-ranging history, Shiloh Museum of Ozark History is right down the street from the A&M Railroad. The museum resides next to an old alignment of the Old Wire Road that runs parallel to the of the town's modern namesake, Spring Creek. The town was originally named Shiloh, a popular Biblical place name appropriate for the Baptist farmers who settled the area near the spring-fed stream.

Outdoors on the Shiloh Museum grounds

Townsfolk adopted the name of Springdale in 1872 because the US Post Office reported another town in Arkansas had already snaked "Shiloh." Wow, what name-snaking jerks. That is just one of the many episodes of local and regional history found at Shiloh Museum. Period dwellings and farming showcased on museum grounds nicely complement the wealth of information inside.

A sampling of Shiloh Museum exhibits

Why do we like Springdale? It's Anytown, Ozarks, USA. For almost 200 years, the Old Wire Road has brought a class of hard-working people to the town in search of opportunity. They built a history of self-starters, and there's a visible sense of pride in rooted in this industriousness. Take a closer look at Springdale, because there may be more to the story than you think.

Driven: the Old Wire Road

2010-02-28T21:52:00.011-06:00

Until now, my model Ozarkbahn drive has been a blacktop whip-crack with tires and brakes wincing in protest. This second installment of the Old Wire Road Project takes a new direction. We're abandoning the roads less traveled, and turning down the most beaten path in the Ozarks.

The essential companion to this trip is the Driver's Guide to the Butterfield Overland Mail Route, Volume One: Missouri, Arkansas, and Oklahoma by Kirby Sanders. It's a turn-by-turn, full-color vault of Old Wire information, charting the first half of John Butterfield's goliath stagecoach route. Check any Ozark historical society or museum to get your copy. I can vouch for it's value because I failed to discover it until after weeks of hazard and error. Stopping for directions defies the spirit of freewheeling discovery, but I'll recommend the book as a matter of local interest and historical completeness. It also contains directions, if you're the kind to admit using them.

Old Wire Road at the Missouri-Arkansas border

Of course, the 2,800-mile Butterfield Trail can't be covered in one sitting. Even the Old Wire Road's full Ozark trek is too wealthy in sights for one undertaking. Let's start at the Missouri border, and follow the road's most unique stretch through the most Northwest corner of Arkansas, Benton County. Heading South, it begins as Missouri 37 tracks the general bend of the original Old Wire Road from Springfield into the Ozark hills. A spur splits from Highway 37 and marks a telling divide at the Arkansas border. Can you tell which side won the Civil War? No consulting your Driver's Guide.

Pott's Hill battle marker and other sights along the Old Wire Road

Here the pavement ends and the old Confederacy begins. In February 1862, fast-marching Union forces chased Rebels raiders Benny Hill style towards Arkansas, finally catching them near Pott's Hill on the Arkansas border. A historical marker notes this valley along Old Wire Road was the Civil War's first engagement on Arkansas soil. The brief clash ended with each side drawing back to their respective sides of the border to regroup for the upcoming Battle of Pea Ridge. No sexy parties ensued.

[Skirmish at Pott's Hill at the Encyclopedia of Arkansas History and Culture]

With the days of armed battled long expired, travel along this valley on an August evening makes a solid case for endless Summer. Slow ride, take it easy. A canopy of trees shadows the road, carrying us through rustic scenes that have changed little in 150 years.

Lazy Summer scenes

These few miles of graded dirt roads lead to the edge of Pea Ridge National Military Park, where a fence bars entry into a well-preserved mile of stagecoach-era Old Wire leading to Elkhorn Tavern (as previously introduced). From the tavern, a park tour road echoes the old trail out of the park and onto gravel roads towards Little Sugar Creek.

Little Sugar Creek park and bridge over the creek into Brightwater

In March 1862, the Union Army dug into bluffs along Little Sugar Creek hoping to repel a 16,000-soldier Confederate force marching up the Telegraph Road. In the cover of darkness, the crafty rebels opted to take the scenic route around this position and begin the Battle of Pea Ridge about a mile to the North. A pleasant little park at this site marks the Thing That Never Actually Got Around to Happening. However, drama did not elude the hamlet of Brightwater that sat on the opposite side of the creek. In 1947, a tornado completely erased the town from the map, killing four.

[Brightwater, AR, on Google Maps]

Avoca railroad bridge, town offices, and stone marker

When the Frisco Railroad laid tracks along Little Sugar Creek in the 1880s, the residents of Brightwater relocated their town site to a hill just to the South in order to receive a rail station. A concrete railroad arch over the still-unpaved road serves as a portal between the original site and its successor, now known as Avoca. Today the town of Avoca embraces its history with liberal dose of stagecoach imagery and an Arkansas-shaped stone marker listing history's designations of the Old Wire Road.

Old Rogers and the former Summit Motel, once the location of Callahan Station

Leaving Avoca, the road unceremoniously parallels the railroad tracks into an aged, workaday section of Rogers. A few blocks from a metal scrap yard, Old Wire meets the site of the Butterfield line's first official stage stop in Arkansas, Callahan Station. In his Driver's Guide, Kirby Sanders identifies the current building as the 1889-vintage Summit Hotel, an antique in its own right. By default, we can figure the original coach station burned down in the Civil War. Sharp-eyed readers have probably noticed everything in the Ozarks got burned down in the Civil War.

Old Rogers continues along Old Wire Road

From Callahan's Station, our byway passes the rather well-kept Rogers downtown, then snakes Southward through the hills above Lake Atalanta and the working-class neighborhoods that lead out of town. The pavement ends past the city limits, and the road once again dips into into the tangy glaze of history in a valley known as Cross Hollow.

[Cross Hollow on Google Maps]

To defend its hold on Arkansas, the Confederate Army established Camp Benjamin in Cross Hollow near current-day Monte Ne. The army maintained a sentry point on the high ground overlooking the Old Wire Road just to the East of the camp, an important outpost against Union traffic from the North.

Old Wire Road enters Cross Hollow

The camp barracks were erected under contract from sawmill entrepreneur Peter Van Winkle, who held the land that would become Hobbs State Park. No visible trace of Camp Benjamin remains, as it was burned down by the Union Army pressing the Confederates back towards the South.

[Article: Confederate Encampment at Cross Hollow from Arkansas Historical Quarterly]

Cross Hollow does have one slightly newer relic, a decaying rock post office built during a brief period prosperity in the valley. Around the turn of the century, a railroad spur was built to Coin Harvey's now-sunken Monte Ne resort, later serving the Rogers White Lime Works, a defunct kilning operation. Lime, baby!

Derelict Cross Hollow post office, and a scenic pond in the hollow

South of Cross Hollow, the Old Wire Road straightens and returns to pavement East of Lowell, and cruises past Bethel Heights on its way to Fitzgerald's Station just past the boundary of Benton County. This drive is short in miles, but long in history.

Heritage Trail markers

Drive it yourself, and you may notice signs marking a "Heritage Trail." This is the work of the Heritage Trail Partners, Inc., a group seeking promote Northwest Arkansas history and points of interest through recreational travel along the road. The group's ultimate aim is to add bike and pedestrian trails the length of the contemporary alignment in Western Arkansas, making the road an attraction in itself.

While not a driver's delight, Old Wire Road exhibits such a varied past that you may find yourself sharing in the enthusiasm.

Traffic: everything from no cars allowed (Pea Ridge walking section) to active Ozark artery
Driving challenge: leave the sports car at home
Purty mouth: let's just say some sections still don't get a lot of visitors
Ozarkbahn rating: histor-a-tacular

The Old Wire Road Project

2010-01-29T21:20:00.013-06:00

Introduction

Last Summer I stumbled upon an old stretch of Old Wire Road near the Arkansas-Missouri border, a seldom-traveled dirt road that I unwittingly followed straight to the foundation of everything Ozarkbahn. This drive led to an immersion into the original Ozarks byway, a fascinating convergence of history and contemporary driving culture that has held a dozen different names over hundreds of years. Thus the Old Wire Project. Everything starts here.

Pea Ridge NMP map, trail marker at Avoca, AR, and trail placard in downtown Rogers, AR.

The road has been an Ozark workhorse for centuries, carrying indigenous hunters, stagecoaches, Civil War armies, telegraph line, dwarves, and all manner of modern travel and commerce. It's no coincidence that even America's "Mother Road," Historic Route 66, echoes the Old Wire Road in places. The Wire Road has roots in Native American times, plotting a course from St. Louis down through the Boston Mountains of Arkansas and into Oklahoma near Fort Smith. The order of contemporary Northwest Arkansas - linking Avoca, Rogers, Springdale, and Fayetteville - owes itself to the people and fortunes once carried by this rough pike through the hills.

Butterfield Trail Elementary in Fayetteville, Old Wire Road Elementary in Rogers, and Butterfield historical marker in Lowell.

Modern references to the Old Wire Road are abundant in local signage and place names. For example, I attended Fayetteville's Butterfield Trail Elementary and biked to school down Stagecoach Road, both references to the road's term as the primary carriage artery in America. While historic associations dot the area, today their significance is often an afterthought and largely ignored. Take a closer look, and a compelling picture of Ozark history comes together.

History

By the time of the Lewis and Clark Expedition (you know, the early 1800s), the Osage Nation was the dominant tribe in Western Missouri, and had a well-established network of horse trails extending into the Ozarks and beyond. In the decades following the Louisiana Purchase, American settlers drove Westward into the Missouri Territory and formed the town of Springfield in the 1830s. The Trail of the Osages bore the tribe's years of navigation experience through the difficult Ozark terrain, and white migrants adopted it for their own use. The link between Springfield and the frontier outpost at Fort Smith became known as the Fayetteville Road (or Old Missouri Road, among other monikers).

Trail of Tears map and marker at Pea Ridge NMP, a dream catcher memorial at Cross Hollows along Old Wire Road near Lowell.

The Fayetteville Road was immediately put to use as a part of the Trail of Tears, a forced relocation of Eastern tribes to Oklahoma in the early 19th century. The brutal march of the Cherokee from Georgia in 1838 took many on a Northern route through St. Louis and Springfield, then South through Northwest Arkansas to Fort Smith. The Ozarks are now home to portions of the Trail of Tears National Historic Trail and auto tour routes.

Another flurry of activity along the Old Wire Road began with the establishment of the Butterfield Overland Mail Company in 1858. Before then, it was an adventure to move people and their unintelligible cursive letters between the coasts. In response, petticoat enthusiast John Butterfield secured a federal postal contract and funded an ambitious surge of road improvements and station construction.

Stagecoach imagery in Avoca, Lowell, and Springdale.

Butterfield's colossal support network of coaches, personnel, horses, and mules spanned America from St. Louis to San Francisco, and blazed straight through the Ozarks. The Boston Mountains between Fayetteville and Fort Smith were among the most challenging portions of the 2,700-mile, 24-day journey. Waterman Ormsby, inaugural passenger and proto-Ozarkbahner wrote, "I might say our road was steep, rugged, jagged, rough, and mountainous - and then wish for some more expressive words in the language."

[Charlie Alison's article on the Butterfield Overland Mail Route]

[Butterfield Overland Stagecoach Route map]

The Ozarks are home to some of the few remaining structures used by the Butterfield Route. Pea Ridge National Military Park contains the restored Elkhorn Tavern of 1833 vintage, a popular stop for coach passengers just South of the Missouri border. Given the unforgiving combination of wooden wheels and prickly trails, most people were in the mood for a drink by the time they reached Arkansas. The park also preserves nearly a mile of the serene, but coarse Old Wire Road as it stood 150 years ago.

Elkhorn tavern today mirrors a line drawing of the stagecoach era at Pea Ridge NMP; next door the Old Wire Road is also preserved in 19th-century form.

Horses and mules also needed pit stops, and a rare stage stop still stands 20 miles South of Elkhorn Tavern. Fitzgerald's Station unceremoniously borders what is now a busy stretch of contemporary Arkansas 265 in Springdale, hemmed in by a cement plant and a subdivision. The original stone horse barn remains within easy view of the road, along with a "newer" home built in the 1870s. Traffic rarely looks twice, but it's one of the most historically significant spots on the Old Wire Road.

[Arkansas Archeological Survey of Fitzgerald Station]

Many traces of history survive, but what about the "wire" in Old Wire Road? During a minor chapter of Southern history called the War of Northern Aggression, the U.S. military used text messaging to communicate with the field. To keep tabs on the Western front, their telegraph network required a cable be run from St. Louis to Fort Smith down our favorite byway. Sabotage and obsolescence eventually eliminated the telegraph line, but the name stuck. Today the road's most persistent name is still the "Old Wire Road."

A wealth to explore along the original Ozarkbahn.

The Old Wire Road represents an Ozarks narrative of the past and present that is impossible to acknowledge in one sitting. There's so much to the story that the best thing to do next is hit the road and drive.

Best of Craigslist 2009

2009-12-30T21:51:00.008-06:00

I don't know how or why, but the Ozarkbahn is now a year-old institution. Perhaps it is the inspiring power of salted possum meats that marshals it on. Maybe the rusted treasures found at the bottom of every holler pique the imagination. Whatever the spark, the key word is "driven." Every Ozark destination entails a journey, and every twisty path demands an appropriate set of wheels. As with 2008, we end 2009 splashing in the area Craigslist's geiser of fascination.

Advert I Most Want to Reach Into the Computer and Slap
Back in the late 80s, a Nissan magazine ad pictured a Hardbody pickup among a field of horses, asking readers to guess how much horsepower was in the photo. Corny, but it got the message across. Sometimes analogies go a little far, and you want to, well, shoot them in the leg and send them to the glue factory. This Nissan Maxima listing is the Craigslist equivalent of saddle sores.

Runner Up: Ugh. Audubon? Autobahn?

The Pinto of Honor
Galloping with the horse theme here with the mighty Pinto. Some of my earliest tortured memories of motoring involve riding in a faux-wood-panelled Mercury Bobcat wagon, the hot-and-heavy cousin of the Ford Pinto. I have a little Stockholm Syndrome for Pintos and Bobcats. Which example is the best the Ozarks' could muster in 2009? The one that dreams of becoming this Mickey Mouse nightmare. Some assembly required. Actually, ALL assembly is required.

Runner Up: this haggard, non-running heap of dents boldly asks $750. Hey, but everything is green. EVERYTHING IS GREEN.

Put it Where it Doesn't Belong Award
Malaise-era Jaguars weren't any good, but in a stunning offering to sleeperdom, someone in the Ozarks fixed everything with a Corvette V8. The GM LS1 swap is such a common upgrade that it's a gearhead running joke. Check engine light on? Time for a LS1 swap. Jaguar break down? Better swap in a LS1.

Runner Up: We've seen plenty of galleries showing plain-wrapper BMWs undergoing Frankenstein M-powered upgrades at considerable expense. This time, an enterprising Ozarkian went with a plebeian small block Chevy. Talk about an affront to roundel nerds who have memorized every BMW engine code and wiring diagram in Barvaria. Excellent work.

Jamie Spears Award for Trans-Am Most Likely to Cause Teen Pregnancy

This Craigslist find was personal, as it sat on a road I traveled daily. I came to admire - lust for - this blue-on-white firechicken with pale leather and matching snowflakes. The exposure time allowed the lunacy of second-gen F-bodies to creep into my web browsing. Just looking, right? That's how dangerous things begin. I mean, after Dazed and Confused, Matthew McConaughey bought a sweet second-gen Z28 to drive in real life. "I get older, they say the same age." Awl raht, awl raht, awl raht.

Runner Up: 1978 Trans-Am. It has the right stuff: white paint, blue tint, cammed out 350, and glorious firechicken decal. However, the seller imagines it worth $25k to $50k with a coat of paint. Such delusional optimism is worth the runner-up spot on its own.

Most Exciting Graphics on the Least Exciting Car
A first-gen Plymouth Neon has the distinction of serving up my most exciting driving moment of 2009. While racing in one belonging to someone else in May, the right-front hub sheared off, leaving the wheel and $250 Hoosier race tire free to bounce down the track. Credit due, they're quick little cars for the dirt prices they demand. Still, Neons are lethally terrible automobiles only an arsonist's flame job can improve. When I saw this hot (rod) mess listed on the Springfield, MO, Craigslist, I knew it was the winner.

Runner Up: a great many mid-1970s Ford Torinos have been converted to the Striped Tomoto driven by detectives Starsky and Hutch. It tends to work best when you start with a shiny red Torino GT and mag wheels, then add your stripes and teardrop perp light. It's not so hairy-chested When you take your great aunt's Torino "Elite" model and brush it red without swapping the nursing home hubcaps. Bonus: ellipsis mania!

Grand Prize
When the Zombie infection rages and society crumbles, you will need one thing: a six-wheel-drive military-surplus M35A2 "Deuce and a Half."

[Wikipedia: M35 2.5-ton Cargo Truck]

An entire family piled out of this beast for an outing at Alum Cove State Park.

They look mean, cost relatively little, and are rugged enough to roam every inch of the Ozarks. Some versions even came with a flex-fuel engine that would run on anything combustible you could pour in the fuel tank. Maybe even braaaaaaains. The versatile M35A2 appeals to all stripes of hardy Ozarkians, including survivalists, off-roaders, rural fire departments, militias, the A-Team, and local rap stars. I have seen half a dozen of them over the last few months. It turns out there's even an active club for trucks like these in Arkansas.

[Arkansas Military Vehicle Travelers]

They're hard to miss, but I didn't take much notice of these M35 behemoths until I eyeballed this one in Diamond, MO. A Craigslist search revealed the owner has had a number of these for sale.

In fact, there are a whole lot of these pop up if you're looking. And you should be, for when the zombies attack. I'll be in my bunker until Y2K10.

Star of the Ozarkian Road

2009-11-24T21:16:00.010-06:00

When road trips were still an intensely human and mechanical experience, service stations were an essential part of the motoring landscape. Stations cultivated an image of confidence, a flair, to attract a road-ready public. The rock stars of modern architecture - Frank Lloyd Wright, Mies van der Rohe, Norman Foster, Albert Frey, and others - all tried their hand at penning humble gas stations.

[Top 15 Mid-century Modern Stations @ Oobject]

Conscious of my grandfather's career with Esso Oil, I find a quick and visible charm in service station architecture. In examples throughout the Ozarks, one can still see the span of history as styles evolved.

"House" style station on Arkansas 7 in Jasper, bungalow on Missouri 59 in McDonald County

Stations first modeled themselves after cottages and bungalows that mimicked the quaint atmosphere of early suburbia.

Southwestern flavor near downtown Neosho, MO

The petroleum industry has been a titan of commerce for over a century, and corporate branding efforts grew with America's increasing post-war mobility. One pattern was a Southwestern revival, invoking the freewheeling romance of Westward expansion.

Plate glass and sharp angles in Rogers, AR, and Carthage, MO

Eventually, modernism fostered buildings in blunt contrast to their surroundings, rather than cottages in native form. Sharp, steeply-raked angles of glass and steel marked the peak - literally and figuratively - of service station architecture.

Straight edges in Powell, MO, Neosho, MO, and Harrison, AR

Ultimately, cars became less maintenance-intensive and more economical, and gas stations changed their profit focus from the automobile to the consumer. Today stations are little more than miniature grocery stores. Razor-thin margins on fuel sales leave little in the way of extravagances or enthusiastic help. A filthy squeegee well on the side of a trash can, watery pay air compressor, and self-serve fuel pump are all that remain. Modern convenience stores are rarely eye-catching, and contribute little to the attraction or passion of contemporary automotive travel.

Repainted Phillips station in Noel, MO

The shuffle of time has left most of these vintage structures to the elements, so they must be enjoyed while they stand. Some of the more iconic structures, like the Phillips 66 cottages, have been fortunate enough to attract historic preservation. A few structures live on as something even more.

One great example is Laurel Kane's D-X Station on Route 66 in Afton, Oklahoma, just a shout from the Western edge of the Ozarks. She revived the classic station and filled it with a trove of Route-66-a-bilia, including a collection of Packards and other timeless American iron. Laurel maintains a blog to put faces to the travelers and assorted, ahem, characters who pass through the station from points all over the world. Worth a read:

[Ramblings of a Route 66 Business Owner]

Like old service stations, Route 66 encapsulates my fascination with car culture, the open road, and uniting sense of American mobility. The Mother Road just glances the Northern edge of Ozarks, an area that has revealed a surprising wealth of unique drives and discoveries on its own. More than I could ever find the time to write about, even. Take that to a macro view, and you have the eight-state epic that is Route 66. Literature, television, and a litany of song covers have fostered an international allure and push to embrace motoring yore. Laurel's enterprising preservation of a piece of Route 66 history could be well applied to the less traveled corners of the Ozarks.

So put a tiger in your tank and check out these classic service stations.

Driven: Arkansas 74

2009-11-12T21:27:00.010-06:00

The truth hit like an exploding moonshine still. The crown of the Ozarks - and therefore best place in the world by necessary and biased association - may be Newton County, Arkansas.

Wipe up your computer screen and stay with me. This craggy square of forest-capped limestone, home to less than 9,000, is core Ozarkbahn. The county corrals some of the most remote and rough-hewn terrain in the Ozarks, which incubated an amusingly vibrant backwoods culture. The racier chapters of Newtonian history include illicit whiskey production, premier marijuana agronomy, hippie communes, and the only hillbilly theme park in the world. The native earthiness still beckons droves of outdoor fans to trails and rivers. Most importantly, this capsule of the spartan, beautiful, and unique is crisscrossed by a stunning circuit of highways.

[Arkansas 74 on Google Maps]

We already know Arkansas 21 and Arkansas 123. Another great route from the Newton County playlist is Highway 74 from Ponca to Mount Judea.

This 28-mile drive is neatly divided in the middle by the county seat, Jasper. Starting at its Western end, AR 74 leaves Highway 43 and ascends from Boxley Valley into a mile-long hill climb loaded with narrow hairpins. This section alone is entertaining enough to enjoy until your brakes melt, but rest of the jaunt offers plenty of curves and Kodak vistas.

Lost Valley, Steel Creek, the Ponca Wilderness, and the Upper Buffalo River are among the Ozark's most popular destinations for camping, hiking, canoeing, and gratuitous shutterbuggery. Driving enthusiasts be warned: 74 carries a lot of traffic over from Scenic 7 at Jasper, and few drivers have the skill, vehicle, or inclination to traverse the road in anything but a dull plod. Jasper is also a favorite biker stop, so the potential to get slowed up is even worse during hospitable tourist weather. Want one more hazard? There are hundreds of elk in the area, and they're not very automobile-compatible. Dodge the obstacles, and 74 is a blast.

A final set of hairpins bring 74 into Jasper, where the road joins Highway 7 to cross Indian Creek, then twists East out of town. Thanks to lighter traffic, the second half of this drive has a different complexion. While the elevation changes aren't as extreme, the road maintains a steady roster of curves and scenery. Highway 74 eventually combines with Arkansas 123 near Hasty, and tracks four miles South along the bluffs by Big Creek to Mount Judea. While 74 continues East for several miles from there, this is where you part ways to continue South on 123, the best road in Arkansas.

Traffic: can pick up significantly during tourist season
Driving challenge: from rolling scenery to "hope the guardrail stops you"
Purty mouth: remember, the whole route is in Newton County
Ozarkbahn rating: a perennial favorite

Fall and the Cushman Collection

2009-10-21T22:14:00.005-05:00

57 years ago, one of America's most prolific amateur photographers added an Autumn day in the Ozarks to his collection. The shots belonged to Charles W. Cushman, an Indiana University alum who willed over 14,000 Kodachrome slides to his alma matter upon his passing in 1972. It's a staggering body of color photography from the pre-digital era, and the school's Digital Library Program has worked to bring fingertip access to these works. With Fall colors at full-tilt, I thought it would be appropriate to share a few.

[Charles W. Cushman Photograph Collection]
Indiana University Archives

Adair County, OK

Oklahoma 62 near Muskogee

His focus was on road trips made in the United States and worldwide from the 1930s through the 1960s. For fans of mid-century motoring culture and roadside exploration like myself, and the Cushman Collection is a treasure. Even the Ozarks made it into his travels. Through the lens of heavily saturated Kodachrome color, he photographed his October 1952 drive across Oklahoma Highway 62, through Arkansas, and up to Springfield, Missouri, and beyond.

In front of Old Main at the University of Arkansas

Fiery foliage on US 62 near Eureka Springs, AR

Cushman photographed just about pictures of everything, not just the postcard vistas and urban scenes, but all the sights that comprised motoring America. Indiana History professor Eric Sandweiss is a study of Cushman, and penned an excellent overview of his work. The pictures are impressive in both breadth and quantity, forming a comprehensive documentary of American life and travel in the era before the Interstate highway system.

Downtown Eureka Springs

White River near Eureka Springs

If you're not careful, the site will consume an hour or two of your time. A less risky option might be to browse a slide show of selected photos put together by Indiana University.

Horsing around in Harrison, AR

Old Chevy, new mule in Harrison

Through Cushman's slides, we can see moments captured from the constant flux in human and natural landscapes. The takeaway is that a wealth of sights and experiences are ripe for discovery if you're willing to find them. I've quickly realized the Ozarks alone can afford a lifetime of experiences, and that I have a lot of miles to go.

the Rise and Fall of the Highway Hillbilly

2009-10-15T22:58:00.007-05:00

In the public consciousness, the word "Ozark" is loaded with connotations ranging from pastoral serenity to malignant clichés. Like them or not, the stereotypes have been a pocket of regional uniqueness for over a century, a valuable sense of identity. As mass communication and entertainment advance social conformity across America, is our classic Ozarkness doomed to fade?

Hillbilly postcards, a staple of Ozark gas stations

The Arkansas Traveler painting

The history runs long. Square one is the tale of the wayward Arkansas Traveler, a gentleman finding himself a fish out of water among backwards Arkies in the mid-1800s. This story affected 150 years of stereotypes and inventions through song, art, and folklore, setting the tone for interaction between "civilized" America and mountain rural life. The fantasy fueled the hokey charm of mid-century standards like the Snuffy Smith comic strip, Lum and Abner radio show, and Beverly Hillbillies sitcom. For many, the Ozark Mountains represented the real-life home of halcyon hillbilly-ism.

Mickey Mouse at Disneyland? How about a pose with Abner? A snap from the Dogpatch USA writeup at the Arkansas Roadside Travelogue.

Miles from Dogpatch USA, a Li'l Abner-esq caricature still headlines a liquor store on Highway 59.

Ozarks entrepreneurs were happy to indulge. As in popular media, the Ozarks as an industry flourished in mid-century driving culture. On Scenic Highway 7 South of Harrison, Dogpatch USA operated a whole theme park operated based on the outlandishly hick serial Li'l Abner.

Ozarkland near Carthage, Missouri.

Another of the classic Ozarkbahn roadside treasures were the hillbilly knickknack repositories, like the Ozarkland store that still operates on US 71 East of Joplin. Native Ozarkians have often thrived on self-depreciating humor. Some justified, some imagined, all worth a buck. This turned the area into a highway of homespun crafts, souvenirs, and unique stops and sights.

Ozark Valley station off I-44 near Reeds, Missouri.

Unfortunately, the popularity of dowdy mountain kitsch faded. Dogpatch USA shuttered its cedar-shingle shacks in the early 1990s, and the appeal of hill-country eccentricity waned on the whole. Craft fairs and corny Branson shows remain, but the audience is not getting any younger. Many of the knickknack stores are either lightly shopped or boarded up.

No need to replace the sign if there isn't any traffic

What happened? Urbanization and cultural homogenization eradicated much of the real hillbilly lifestyle, while the image itself faded as entertainment left colloquial whimsy in favor of bombastic realism. Fictional hillbillies of radio and television moved from the wooded hollers to the trailer parks, dens of meth use and obesity. The billies of the hills are now absorbed into the wider notion of "rednecks" and "white trash." A Cops-ready double-wide domestic dispute could happen anywhere in America, and the sense of Ozark place and humble virtue is diluted. The contemporary touchstone of the hackneyed, People of Wal-Mart, shows the common portrait of backwards America. Plenty hick, but the benign folksiness is long gone.

Ozark Village near Sarcoxie, Missouri, closed on a weekday. For good?

A young-ish traveling salesman - a button-up salesdouche - once told me in a Tulsa bar that Arkansas was full of corn. I found this disheartening. This was an embarrassment to elementary-grade geography, for one. Worse, it was fully ignorant to the Ozark stereotype pop culture had worked so hard to endow. If the average goon can't get his platitudes right, the Ozarks might as well be no different from the rest of the flyover America. However hokey or contrived, holdouts of regional subculture add a sense of humor and identity we would miss if we abandoned them.

So, are we losing touch with the novelty of rustic old mountain culture? The roadside landscape isn't promising, but it's still worth stoppin' for.

Hobbs State Park II: Shameless Sequel

2009-10-05T22:40:00.000-05:00

Thanks to the hearts and minds won in the previous post (or in spite of it), today Hobbs State Park earned the "Park of the Year" award for its region.

[Morning News: Hobbs Chosen Park of the Year In Region 1]

This Saturday they will share the euphoria with their first ever autumn festival, titled "Fall in Love with Hobbs." Wow, I'm not sure I'm ready for that level of park commitment just yet, but it sounds like a fine time. The lineup features a blend of folk, history, nature, and guided trail walks.

Whatever your penchant for park-loving, I won't judge. When I'm not driving the Ozarks, I sometimes hike them, too. A favorite is the Shaddox Hollow Nature Trail, an easily accessed 1.5-mile loop to Beaver Lake and back. The Spring months boom with wildflowers and dogwood blossoms, and mid-October is a smart bet for Fall foliage.

You will also see a slate of limestone outcroppings characteristic of the Ozarks. The path winds past bluffs holding a range of water-carved formations, like the above nature-made keyhole. What would you find if you unlocked the Ozark Mountains? Dwarves? Bring your giant key and find out. Probably dwarves.

Along with hiking, another amusement of mine is finding old cars abandoned to nature. While discarded junk has an edge of anti-naturalism, vehicles are treasures that spur the imagination (and tetanus if you're clumsy). What kind of stories are in a car's past? How did it get all the way out in the middle of nowhere? The Bashore Ridge Loop passes an early fifties Chevrolet truck shed of everything but its cab and a squirrel-gnawed steering wheel. A healthy distance away, I found a shot-riddled hood buried under leaves. Not in a matching color, but definitely belonging to a Chevy truck of similar vintage. The Ozarks are a goldmine for hillbilly paleology.

Piney Road and church, Townsend Ridge Road

The Hobbs in-roads aren't bad, either. When you can catch a break in traffic, Highway 12 and its side tours to trail heads are driving excellence. In the Hobbs hills, you'll find elevation changes, regular steering inputs, and all the usual cachet of entertaining roads. Just be prepared to have your fun spoiled by prolific dawdlers, sheriff's deputies, and deer.

At least you have plenty to explore upon arrival. The Hidden Diversity Multi-Use Trail has 23 miles of hiking paths and loops with the double benefit of allowing horseback riding and mountain biking. Though rustic, calendar scenes are not the mission of this trail. For example, the Bashore Ridge Loop simply treks through dry, hilly woods to Beaver Lake and back. Aside from the occasional grown man in spandex pants pedaling by, the forest is plain, undisturbed, and open for whatever personal enrichment you can conjure. You might savor unseen nature or unravel a grander personal philosophy. Or forget to spray Off on your ankles and participate in the circle of life for local bugs. Whatever your delight.

To quote the park's trail guide:

The theme for this park is not one large mountain or lake or river or forest or historical event or the myriad of plants and animals above and below the ground. It is the sum of all of these. It is diversity. “With awareness, the diversity of life here inspires wonder and discovery.”

Hobbs State Park and Conservation Area

2009-09-22T22:38:00.007-05:00

Northwest Arkansas is one corner of the Ozarks where rapid development has put nature's grandeur on the defensive. That's why locals are fortunate to have the Hobbs Conservation Area, the largest state park in Arkansas, right next door. It's a 12,000-acre trail-o-rama spanning the woody hills between Beaver Lake and War Eagle Creek just East of Rogers. A newcomer to the park game, Hobbs was created just in time to preserve an area ideal for exploration by car, bike, horse, or foot.

[Arkansas State Parks - Hobbs Conservation Area]

Hobbs is a plank of local history, occupying land originally belonging to logging entrepreneur and sideburns enthusiast Peter Van Winkle. His family sawmill was one of the earliest industries in Northwest Arkansas, but like everything else in the Ozarks, it was burned down during the Civil War. The foundations of the family homestead and mill site remain, and are now part of an interpretive trail on the National Register of Historic places.

Moving closer to the park's namesake, the territory eventually fell in the hands of Bentonville railroad cross-tie tycoon Roscoe Hobbs. An unlikely conservationist, he willed the land be sold to Arkansas if the state could afford it. Shockingly, the state couldn't. However, when California investors threatened to develop suburban lots and import the pretentious West-coast folk sound of the Eagles, the residents of Northwest Arkansas rallied. The Walton family of Wal*Mart fame and state Attorney General Bill Clinton joined a successful grassroots effort to marshal the funds to buy the land. In 1979, it became Hobbs State Park - Conservation Area.

Local pride never faltered. Today the area is maintained by legions of volunteers organized through the Friends of Hobbs non-profit organization. When a record ice storm in January 2009 smashed the Ozarks, locals cleared 30 miles of felled trees from trails in just a few months.

The newest treasure at Hobbs State Park is the visitor's center, opened in May 2009. It's a trove of Ozark naturalism with touch-screen exhibits on history, culture, caves, and forest biomes. Classrooms make it an easy destination for students, but it's also quite a sight for the casual Ozarkbahner. Since the center is located on the 21-mile, multi-use Hidden Diversity Trail, there's also ample horse parking. However you roll, check this one out.

[Hobbs Visitor Center on Google Maps]

Hobbs covers three counties, far more than we can cover in one sitting. The visitor's center and Van Winkle Trail above are two of the shortest treks at the park. Look for the rest in another exciting installment somewhere down the road...err 'bahn. You know.

Ozark Event: Crescent Classic Ferrari Tour

2009-09-07T22:27:00.014-05:00

If I could take this blog on the road and charge admission, it would go like this: invite dozens of Ferraris and other sports cars to the most picturesque town in the Ozarks, then spend days devouring local roads. Don't hold your breath for Ozarkbahnfest, though. The annual Crescent Classic Ferrari Tour in Eureka Springs had the idea way before me, and has quietly become one of the premier performance car meets in America.

The attendees make their headquarters at the Victorian-styled, spooktacular Crescent Hotel of 1886 vintage. From there, the prancing horse tifosi and friends day trip on brisk guided rallies throughout the spiderweb of roads outside Eureka Springs.

If you fear a meeting of men with boater hats, imported navy blazers, and "daughters," don't worry. To keep the focus on driving, the Crescent Classic organizers have a strict dress code: jeans only. The cars are the stars of the weekend.

Exotics too often become static displays, imprisoned in climate-controlled garages. While Ferraris are objects of status and privilege, they are meant to be driven. The violent, beautiful sound is worth the exposure alone. Even this Shell gasoline advert is content to watch and listen.

[Your author's favorite television commercial of all time]

New or old, there is no such thing as a Ferrari that looks, goes, or sounds badly, so it's exciting to bring them out in numbers. After the group returns to the Crescent for the evening, it's an assuring sight to see an ocean of Ferrari Red smeared with bugs and brake dust. Sure, each is hand-washed nightly courtesy of the event sponsors, but there's a degree of respect in challenging the usual hazards of the open road. Last year an unlucky 360 Modena owner had a encountred a deer, vermin of the Ozarks. You can figure the rest of the drive was pretty fun, though.

The 2009 Crescent Classic takes place Thursday, September 10, through Sunday, September 13th. If you can respect a policy of look, but don't touch, no one minds terribly if you ogle the machinery up close in the hotel parking lot. Another chance to see the cars in person is during the parade and show in downtown Eureka Springs, usually on Saturday. The more modern and reliable Italians like the 328, 355, and 360 are best represented, but there's no telling what will show up. An Alfa Romeo Giulia Sprint or Lamborghini is pretty good company.

If you want to see it yourself, the best part is that fine Ozark drives like Highway 62 or 23 are unavoidable. Event organizer Chris Parr said, "I grew up on these roads and have always felt like this area of Arkansas had some of the best roads in North America."

The Crescent Classic Ferrari Tour is a great excuse to grab your friends and take the day off. If you have the means, I highly recommend it.

Driven: Oklahoma 259

2009-09-01T22:01:00.008-05:00

Summer vacation is over, and the second semester of Ozarkbahn is here. Dress in layers and bring a sack lunch, because we're starting off with a field trip to the Ouachita Mountains of Oklahoma.

[Highway 259 on Google Maps]

Highway 59 was built to span America from Mexico to Canada, and a previous episode explored an action-packed stretch in Southwest Missouri. US 59 is roughly 1,500 miles long in all, and the final connection built was a steep jaunt through LeFlore County named Oklahoma 259.

In a "Golden Spike" ceremony of sorts, President John F. Kennedy dedicated the highway's opening in October 1961 at Big Cedar, Oklahoma. New Frontier, indeed. Even backwoods Oklahoma was within missile range of Jack's policy of interstellar progress.

Big Cedar, OK, and the Three Sticks monument

Lucky us, because the road's switchback climb up Kiamichi Mountain from Big Cedar is one of the most entertaining ribbons of pavement in the country. At the top, the Three Sticks scenic overlook commemorates the state politicians who helped build the road with a monument symbolizing land, wood, and water. The highway never spurred the intended commerce to unlock those resources, but a drive like this is a fine legacy as far as I'm concerned.

If nothing else, the area does a thriving business in one thing: bigfoot sightings. The area around Big Cedar has seen its share of Sasquatch reports.

[Texas Bigfoot Research Conservancy - LeFlore County]

Make no mistake: this is Sasquatch country. Locals hold the Honobia Bigfoot Festival every year in the woods about 30 miles away from Big Cedar. It's part family carnival, part Very Serious seminar with panels of professors and bigfoot experts. There's even a genuine bigfoot hunt. If you spot something hairy, bipedal, and barefoot, grab your camera. It may not be a local, but a marvel of science!

[2009 Honobia Bigfoot Festival]

Science also astounds on the Indian Nations Trail at Hochatown State Park a few miles South on 259. The Ouachitas are an ancient mountain range worn to blunted hills, leaving a sparkling plethora of geological curiousities not found on the Ozark Plateau. The forest is littered with quartz, and visitors are welcome to pocket a grip of crystals for personal use. In one short hike, your chakra can be completely realigned.

The whole drive down Oklahoma 259 is great for harmonizing your bio-energies. It's a lightly populated area with minimal traffic and human encroachment, a rare pleasure given the attraction. The driving challenges wither in places, but there's constant rolling greenery to satisfy your metaphysical side.

The Ouachitas slide into the Red River flatlands near Broken Bow, where the End of Trail Motel marks an appropriate terminus. The mid-century neon sign is super cool, a real roadside treasure. History value? The name and figure are based on a 1915 James Earle Fraser sculpture, End of the Trail, capturing the sorrow of dislocated Native American culture. On the upshot, air conditioning and free HBO!

Oklahoma 259: for Americans of distinction

The tattoo on my chest reads "Ozark 4 Life," but this week I proudly boast, "Ich bin ein Ouachitabahner."

Traffic: I could spend Thirteen Days here
Driving challenge: mild to superb
Purty mouth: watch out for anyone named Harry
Ouachitabahn rating: Ask not what your Ozarkbahn can do for you, but what you can do for your Ozarkbahn

Stopover: Neosho, MO

2009-05-27T20:01:00.010-05:00

After the bustle of Main Street America fled to suburban strip malls and big-box retailers, some towns fought back. One of the best downtown revivals in the Ozarks is being led by Neosho, Missouri.

[Neosho, MO, on Google Maps]

I stumbled through historic Neosho by accident, driving in my usual pattern of navigation by impulse, rather than by GPS. Sometimes wandering Ozarkland just means discovering chicken houses you haven't seen before. This time, it was a genuine reward and surprise, a bit of a treasure.

Neosho has a welcome Ozark vibe from native stone used heavily throughout the downtown area and local neighborhoods. Nearby hills and limestone springs provide a pleasant backdrop, as well. Circling city blocks on foot, I spotted buildings in the style of Victorian, Art Deco, International, cottage, mid-century kitsch, and Spanish design. Neosho packs a lot of scenery and architectural details in a relatively short walk.

The centerpiece of downtown is the Newton County Courthouse, a Depression-era Works Progress Administration project. It's fantastically Art Deco, with ornate scales of justice over entryways and "Justice is Truth in Action" carved into the stonework. The recently renovated "Civic" is also a beautifully restored Deco landmark.

The most inspiring aspect of the "Flowerbox City" is that there is a concerned effort to maintain the charm of its downtown district through private investment and public assistance. Despite the town's small size and likely economic woes, plenty of attention has been paid to the particulars. Public building upkeep, landscaping, streetlights, and sidewalks show civic pride in abundance.

What do you finding rusting in the weeds of most small towns? Tractors and old pick'em up trucks? Try a Volvo PV544. Oh, and that's a Corvette Stingray in the shop behind it. I had a Gearhead moment.

If discovered, Neosho would have the multifarious structure and charm to rival downtown efforts in Eureka Springs and Fayetteville, Arkansas. Let's hope it gets found out.

Craigslist Update: Ozark Rolling Malaise

2009-05-19T23:47:00.011-05:00

In the late 1970s, gas lines were too long and shorts were too short. In the midst of Jimmy Carter's woeful "national malaise," cars took a turn for the crappy. They were generally slow, heavy lumps with engines choked by slapdash emissions systems. Worse, the most popular color was brown. Metallic brown.

Craigslist reveals the Ozarks are a polyester fountain of solid gold hits from this period, and we need to take a look. Slick back your eyebrows, and let's dive bell-bottoms-first into these beautiful beasts.

First off, there's something momentous about a 1970s Cadillac. They're gigantic, and ride as smoothly as a water bed (yet handle corners worse than a water bed). A time capsule of period style and extravagance, Caddys were the choice of every well-heeled professional, from oil tycoons to pimps. Even Ozark trucking magnate J.B. Hunt had one, and it was for sale in Bentonville recently. What can brown do for you?

"Now this was a superior machine. Ten grand worth of gimmicks and high-priced special effects. The rear windows lit up with a touch like frogs in a dynamite pond. The dashboard was full of esoteric lights and dials and meters that I would never understand." - Raoul Duke, driving a Cadillac in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

This 1979 Trans-Am is the curl in your mullet, the flavor in your flavor-saver. Glorious light blue leather, white snowflake wheels, and a mandatory blue firechicken on the hood. Kicker? This one from Rogers is much like the one owned by Vice President Joe Biden.

The seventies don't end there, baby. Here's a disco-fresh 1977 Corvette in Rogers with bitchin' custom paint and white leather interior. I have to credit for it being a legitimate, poser-proof four-speed (not an automatic), but I'm still seeing Mark Hamill in Corvette Summer here. A bare-chested gold medallion on wheels.

An icon of the late seventies and early eighties was the Checker Marathon. On the sitcom Taxi, the Marathon was as much as star as Andy Kaufman or Danny DeVito. The Checker Motor Company built almost nothing but taxis, and they were a fixture of urban movie sets.

While the taxicab version was common, the stretched Checker Aerobus was super-rare, and guess where you can find a pristine sedan-back eight-door? Rogers, Arkansas. Wow.

Lastly, this 1984 Jaguar XJ6, the youngest in the group. The Series III Jag XJ was born in the late 1970s, a time when Britain spent most of its time on strike. This meant the car's electrics and rust protection worked about as much as the people who assembled it. Don't look for many left on the road.

However, any living, breathing Jaguar of this vintage is a special thing, as only a labour of love could keep one running. Sometimes you get real devotion, and a 5.7L LS1 from a 2001 Corvette appears under the bonnet, as with this one in Bentonville. Take a stately car that's gone sixes and sevens, nick a stonking great Yank V8, and Bob's your uncle.

Smashing.

The Rustic Ozarks

2009-05-07T22:34:00.007-05:00

If steel authored the motoring age, rust will be its postscript. All roadside history not razed by the flux of progress will eventually succumb to the elements. The trappings of driving culture and the vehicles that took us there are vulnerable to decay, and they merit exploration before they're gone.

A license plate privacy fence at a junkyard on the Arkansas-Missouri border on Highway 59.

An Ozark vista West of Jasper on Arkansas 74.

The carcass of a long-dead vehicle at Hobbs State Park. Some variety of pre-war truck?

A long-unheeded prohibition on fishing and hunting from the Board of Health at Lake Atalanta.

A little rust, a few loose nails. The century-old Powell Bridge looks sound to me.

What are you worrying about? This place seems legit. The Hillbilly Cabin, South of Huntsville on Arkansas 23.

Decommissioned Conoco fuel pumps in Anderson, MO.

Are your tetanus shots up to date?

Driven: Arkansas 21

2009-04-30T23:05:00.005-05:00

Spring in the Ozarks is high time to get outdoors and hit the road. If you're plotting a path of escape, Arkansas Scenic Highway 21 is a great way to experience warming days and greening views.

[Arkansas 21 on Google Maps]

Starting South from US 412, AR-21 plods along farmland beside the Kings River, then ascends onto high ground Southeast of Kingston. Here the highway takes on new severity as it steeply descends into the Boxley Valley along the Buffalo River. The area is among the sharpest, most beautiful terrain in the Ozarks. Lost Valley State Park, the Ponca Wilderness Area, and a range of superb roads flow from AR-21 at this point.

Bounded on either side by rocky ridge lines, AR-21 levels briefly and tracks the Buffalo River for a few miles. The flat terrain affords the opportunity rubberneck exposed bluffs and the odd elk before the road regains intensity.

Arkansas 21 hits it stride South of Boxley Valley. It twists back into the landscape, then eases into a fast, open stretches through deeply wooded hills. The 35-mile drive that follows is designated the Ozark Highlands Scenic Byway, and it doesn't disappoint. The pavement straightens at times, but it changes direction regularly and rides through gorgeous land in near-isolation. Find an off-peak time for tourists, and the road is yours to enjoy at your pace.

On a Wednesday in March, I didn't meet another car but once every 10 minutes. It's a common story in this part of the Ozarks, much like Arkansas 16, reviewed earlier. No surprise that AR-16 and AR-21 are contiguous for a few miles, and split again at Fallsville. AR-21 remains excellent through Salus and Ozone, throwing in bends at intervals until the last thrusts of the Ozarks give way to the Arkansas River Valley.

AR-21's main sell is that it puts the full panorama of the Ozarks is within easy reach. It's all there: hiking, camping, canoeing, shooting, wildlife-spotting, scenery-gazing, and even more driving. AR-16 and the infamous AR-123 both link to AR-21, and the Pig Trail and Scenic 7 run parallel through the mountains on either side. Just as importantly, the roadside is minimally populated and lightly developed, with few chain stores. For example, you might lunch at the Ozone Burger Barn, fuel up ironically at the Chat-N-Scat, and get killer repairs at Murder's Auto Service in Clarksville if you play too hard. Wherever the wanderlust takes you, AR-21 is a fine place to start.

Traffic: varies by time of year
Driving challenge: decent, nothing wild, set your pace
Purty mouth: squeal if you like a pleasant drive
Ozarkbahn rating: Ozarks for all

Roaring River State Park

2009-04-23T21:43:00.008-05:00

Missouri's Roaring River State Park is a valley packed full of Ozark-centric recreation: camping, pic-a-nics, hiking, lodges, cave-fed springs, and wow, trout husbandry. While modest in scale (more Jellystone than Yellowstone), it's a popular spot and the Missouri Department of Natural Resources maintains it well. In best Ozarkbahn form, you'll also have plenty of fun getting there.

The park sits just a few miles from the Arkansas border, and has several points of entry. The route from Northwest Arkansas tracks Missouri 112 East from Seligman through a few miles of farm land, then dips into the Mark Twain National Forest. It's a short, but moderately curvy road with elevation changes and excellent woodland scenery. Leaving the park East on MO-F will take you over rolling hills to Missouri 86, which is a spectacular drive North towards Cassville, or a pleasant jaunt South to Eureka Springs, AR. Quite a few of my own drives have taken a detour through Roaring River.

[Seligman, MO, to Roaring River State Park on Google Maps]

Even if you're just in the neighborhood, Roaring River is worth a stop. The Deer Park Trail is less than a quarter mile long, and climbs rock stairs and boardwalks to a bluff overlooking the spring-fed pool that begins the Roaring River.

There's a great view of the trout hatchery below, which is a surprisingly neat-o enterprise. I never counted on fish farming being all that interesting, but their network of moving pools filled with junior troutlets is quite a sight. A quarter-fed dispenser allows you to feed the fish, and they'll be delighted to see you.

Though most of the park's traffic is bent towards camping and trout fishing, a number of hikes ring the surrounding hills. For example, the 1.5-mile Devil's Kitchen Trail visits a couple of smaller cave springs, and it shows off a fair cross-section of local limestone crags and native flora.

As you can tell by the progression of seasons in the pictures, I've been here a few times. Pretty sound endorsement, I guess?

[Roaring River State Park gallery]

Ozarkbahn ratings
Treefullness: A+
Fish: trouty
Hikes: spoiled for choice
Nearby roads: pretty good when traffic allows

Ozark Event: 100 Acre Wood Rally

2009-04-15T21:48:00.005-05:00

Performance rally racing is the among the most impressive and demanding of all sports, and every year the Ozarks host one of the biggest rallies in the country. Sanctioned by Rally America, the annual 100 Acre Wood event in Missouri follows the same premise as the rest of the rally calendar. Rather than making laps on a permanent track, racecars are flung through nature at intervals, one at a time, with the goal of finishing unrehearsed routes between checkpoints in the shortest time. A navigator in the passenger seat barks a non-stop stream of pace notes to the driver, who completes the stage with unflinching speed.

[In-car footage from 100 Acre Wood Rally 2009 winner Ken Block]

It may look undramatic from the comfort of your computer desk, but the reality is a frenzy. Drivers are sliding sideways inches from ditches and trees with smooth precision, at speeds that would get you arrested on most highways. For this event, all on narrow gravel roads. The cars are production sedans modified to perform at speed on all surfaces and in all conditions, yet they're required to remain street legal for transit between stages on public roads.

To watch a rally, you don't buy a grandstand seat and drain cups of beer. You get up close and personal at roadside, which requires some work. While the rally cars are knifing through the woods at competition speeds, meeting them at spectator stages means carrying on your own rally. The 100 Acre Wood race weekend demands hours of navigating curvy, rolling backroads in near-total isolation, then hiking up fire roads and into the woods to camp for a prime viewing location. In 2009, the weather factor added six inches of snow for the final evening.

The mix of driving thrills and physical toil rewards with an intense display of performance cars and driving talent. Rally fandom means dedication, and it affords a grassroots-level experience rare in any sport. You'll often eat breakfast in a country diner with the team, follow their exploits throughout the day, and retire to the service areas where they prepare the vehicles for upcoming stages.

The rally also demonstrates how much of the Northeastern Ozarks remain beautiful frontier, densely wooded hill country unmarred by population. Spectacular roads such as MO-DD, MO-P, MO-Y, and Highways 32 and 49 become vocabulary over the course of a weekend, themselves worth the travel from home. The terrain mapped below gives a hint of the excitement for both competitors and spectators.

[Google Maps Sample route between Salem, MO, and Potosi, MO]

Part race, part outdoor adventure, the 100 Acre Wood Rally is a must for Ozark driving enthusiasts. See my pictures below if you need further convincing.

[2009 100 Acre Wood gallery]

Stopover: Disney, OK

2009-04-09T22:11:00.006-05:00

Along the Western frontier of the Ozarks's magical kingdom, you'll find the small town of Disney, the happiest place in Oklahoma. It sits at the fringes of Green Country, the hilly region bordering Beige Country, as the rest of the state is known.

[Disney, OK, on Google Maps]

Disney anchors the Grand Lake O' the Cherokees, home to lots o' watery standards like boating, fishing, sailing, and swimming. The rocky spillway and trails below are a major off-road playground, and the neighboring roads are among the best in Oklahoma. It's where dreams come true, provided yours involve something along the lines of a Jeep or pontoon boat.

Disney came to life when the lake was created by the mile-wide Pensacola Dam, a Depression-era construction that was the first to bring hydroelectric power to Oklahoma. It's the largest arch-span dam in the world, an imposing structure with from the time of Gotham and deco.

The dam was completed in 1940, but Disney was not formally incorporated until 1959. It was named for Oklahoma Congressman Wesley Disney, who loosened the necessary millions in public works treasure from Franklin Roosevelt to start construction. Walt Disney did not factor so much as a namesake. Supposedly.

Crime on Disney Island? Qwakwaaaaaakwaaaaaak...

The fact that Disneyland - America's most iconic mid-century tourist destination - opened just a few years before seems a bit serendipitous. Christening a town with fortunate name association is never a bad draw, especially when you make your living half an hour from the Mother Road, Route 66. As mentioned a few weeks ago, McDonald County temporarily succeeded from the United States around that time. Why? For being left off the Missouri Highway Commission's Family Vacationland promotional road map. Ozark tourism, serious business.

Disney's popularity is seasonal, having a permanent population of less than 300. Still, it's big enough to show a few neat trappings of America driving culture. My favorite is Pistol Pat's Bar-B-Que, an example of the disappearing style of walk-up burger shacks being obsoleted by fast-food chains. To me, getting a shake from a smokey, sizzling chamber of meat and ice cream is the definition of Summer. Sure, Pistol Pat bears a slight resemblance to licensed Oklahoma State mascot Pistol Pete, but that's no matter. We've established that coincidental associations never hurt.

Something unique about Pistol Pat's is that the menu is also in Cherokee, an odd intersection of Westward-roving, conquer-by-car America and Native America. Once a history of strife, the old Cowboys and Indians paradigm comes together under a barbecue-glazed olive branch of peace. If there's a common ground, it's that "fried cheese balls" translates to "delicious" in either tongue.

If you can't make it to Anaheim, the Disney of the Ozarks is a start.

Driven: Arkansas 123

2009-03-31T22:26:00.008-05:00

Where do you find the most challenging drive in the Ozarks? It's as easy as Arkansas 123.

Among the many entertaining routes that thread the Boston Mountains, Arkansas 123 stands apart. It's too sharp, narrow, and raw to be promoted in any state literature, so casual sightseers are shuffled towards designated Scenic Highways like 71, 23, 21, and 7. You have to go out of your way to find 123, which means everyone on the road is either local or there on purpose. While we know and love a gold standard like the Pig Trail, so does every over-the-hill diddler between Little Rock and Pig Trail Harley-Davidson in Rogers. Notoriety and slowpokes tend to spoil a good time. For now, 123 is a hidden gem.

The drive starts in earnest at Hagarville, where it leaves the Arkansas River Valley near Clarksville and climbs North into the Ozark Mountains. The highway builds intensity as it gains elevation, pausing to join with Highway 7 after about 25 miles. This Southern portion of AR-123 is an absolute driver's road. Steep scenery and engaging curves, but little traffic.

The Northern half of Arkansas 123 splits from 7 after a few miles. We might as well call this 13-mile stretch der Nordschleife, like the infamous race circuit of similar length near Nürburg, Germany. The Nürburgring was nicknamed the "Green Hell" by Formula 1 racing legend Jackie Stewart, and 123 is the closest approximation the Natural State can muster.

[Arkansas 123 on Google Maps]

My recent experience on the AR-123 Nordschleife left out the "green" part, but kept the "Hell." The Forest Service was performing a controlled burn in the region, filtering the sky to a sickly orange cast. An ice storm two months prior had savaged the landscape, leaving splintered trees as far as visibility allowed. The effect was like stealing into Mordor. With less dwarves.

For our purposes, Mount Doom is replaced by the town of Mount Judea, Arkansas. If that sounds a bit ancient and Biblical, you're right. The most exciting part of AR-123 is draped atop the crude terrain between Kent Mountain and Dick Knob (not making that up) just South of Mount Judea. Having only been paved for the last decade, the bit of road in question was never engineered for much flow, camber, or safety at highway speeds. What you get is a three-mile melee of blind curves and damning hairpins, intermittently bound by curbs and guardrails.

Obviously, there is zero room for error if you think you need to hurry. Get it wrong, and you'll pong between hard objects if you're lucky. Misjudge in some spots, and you'll only discover gravity and pain. Sure, this is only dangerous for fools, but the road doesn't exactly cater to tourists, either.

The attraction of Arkansas 123 is that it's just there, a rough carving through beautiful territory, waiting to be discovered and enjoyed. You're given creative license to figure out the rest.

Traffic: light
Driving challenge: for once, there is one
Purty mouth: fortunately, too isolated for anyone to notice
Ozarkbahn rating: hard to top

A Sign of Things to Come

2009-03-24T21:30:00.004-05:00

Some of best signage I've seen in the last few months.

You'll likely pass this one backwards. And on fire.

"For Rent."

Happy truck drivers steer clear.

Don your mining caps.

A warning like this warms the heart (and the brakes).

You should know where.

Able to guess any? You'll see more related to each in the future.

Ozark parks: Lake Atalanta

2009-03-18T21:15:00.013-05:00

As Spring warmth drives people into (arg, squint) natural light, our favorite Ozark parks do a thriving business. What about our no-so-favorite parks, the ones without the sheen and interest?

Lake Atalanta in Rogers is the model of forgettable green space and forgotten charm. Admittedly, I went there dozens of times without realizing it was named with the extra 'a' like the huntress of Greek mythology, rather than the capital of Georgia. If you need a little help remembering this place, Rogers historian James Hale penned a decent, if rosy, primer here:

[Remembering Rogers: The Lake Atalanta area yesterday and today]

In brief, Lake Atalanta is a small Depression-era construction that occupies a rocky valley near downtown Rogers. It's a city park catering to the basics: fishing, walking, picnics, and playgrounds. Into fitness? Pull up your leg warmers and try the eighties-fresh "Gamefield" exercise challenges that dot the road at intervals around the lake.

Once a happening spot for locals, the park has been struck with the same fortunes as the older side of Rogers. Compared to the sparkling Pinnacle Hills development to the West, the Eastern half of Rogers seems a little lackluster in places. Wealth and construction moved to cozy up with Wal*Mart headquarters in recent years, leaving behind a few shuttered businesses and a poorer, often browner population. To this end, crowing shut-ins seem to think contemporary Lake Atalanta has slid into an orgy of stabbings, drug use, non-English-talkin', and anonymous gay sex after dark. I haven't stuck around after hours to confirm, but a dry-county bore like Rogers can rarely report anything so, err, dramatic past sunset.

Lake Atalanta has gone downhill since its heyday, but has it become a derelict blight? Hardly. I went for a walk recently, and was surprised by the number of people drawn out by a warm weekday afternoon. The condition of the park is no worse than it was decades ago. In fact, it looks exactly the same as when I was six, a happy medium of shabby, but scenic mediocrity.

That's not a bad thing. Often the best hang-outs are those only locals know and care about. A quiet place to practice the quaint and mundane is a classless pleasure.

The Ozarks have a number of lakeside city parks that seem to escape the public conscious for lack of big-ticket attractions. Lake Leatherwood by Eureka Springs, Lake Fayetteville, and Lake Atalanta are a few that come to mind. They're appealing in their simplicity, and worth the attention.

Ozarkbahn ratings
Geese poop: omnipresent
Fishability: high
Eighties hair: feeling the burn

Stopover: Anderson, MO

2009-03-10T20:38:00.013-05:00

There was a time when everyone knew Anderson, Missouri, as a ticket-slinging speed trap. Total Ozarkbahn heresy, a town to be avoided. A few years ago, a new and modern stretch of four-lane US71 routed the ticket fodder elsewhere, and the heat died down.

[Anderson, MO on Google Maps]

Is Anderson is owed a second look? Absolutely, and it's solid gold.

First of all, the liquor store on the corner as Missouri 76 curves towards downtown. It makes me believe in a place where high fives still rule and bikini posters are still allowed to tell you that it's always five o'clock somewhere.

Let's break this down. All the signage, without exception, appears to have been painted while drunk. And what is that? Stucco? There's a '73 Mustang Coupe on whitewalls parked out front, and a 3D gold Coors can on the wall. The name of the place is Al's Cigar Store (one assumes), but Al isn't one-dimensional. He has you covered with lottery tickets and beer that ain't no warm, pansy-strength 3%.

If that's not enough, right next door is a hipster shack of dreams. Feast upon the beautiful, non-ironic PBR signs from years ago. No telling what's inside, but my guess is that it's stacked to the ceiling with crisp, hard-workin' domestic swill.

Anderson's other hot spot is an explosion of roadside retro, an antique store across the street from a hot rod shop.

This place I like. My grandfather was an oil man with Esso, the brand that "put a tiger in your tank." And hey, there's the tiger. Robbie the Robot and the Jolly Green Giant, too.

Stay classy, Anderson. High five.

Driven: Missouri 59

2009-02-22T22:31:00.012-06:00

McDonald County, Missouri, once succeeded from the Union. Not in 1861, as was popular at the time, but in 1961. You know, the same decade we flew to the Moon and back.

The most Southwestern county in Missouri was once a thriving tourist destination. When accidentally left out of the yearly Family Vacationland map published by the Missouri State Highway Commission, residents were rightly enraged. What to do? No, not incest. They formed the McDonald Territory, complete with its own postage stamps and militia, to make sure you enjoyed the Hell out of your visit.

[McDonald Territory on Wikipedia]

Through most of the Territory's original firebrands have likely died of cirrhosis and accidental gunshot wounds, much of the original roadside appeal remains. The main artery within this throbbing heart of Ozark tourism is Missouri 59, a 13-mile ribbon of pavement that winds its way from the Arkansas border up to Anderson, Missouri.

[Missouri 59 route on Google Maps]

The first sight for a Northbound traveler is Stateline Liquor, a rock-clad station adorned with a kitschy send-up of Li'l Abner. Hyar' tis, y'all. Frighteningly, the half-done overalls and jug of moonshine are fairly representative of a few contemporary locals.

Closer to Noel, MO, are some fine examples of mid-century motor inns like the Starlight Motel and Bell-Aire. When photographing the latter, three grizzled men in flannel exited the office and were very concerned that I was taking pictures of their quaint motel. After a brief exchange of grunts and musket fire, I made a hasty retreat. But hey, there's no need to stick around when there's so much more rustic charm to enjoy.

Indian Creek Roadside Park features Flintstone-esq native stone tables perfect for lunching on a dinosaur sandwich. There you can also read a historical marker describing the county's legacy of "bitter dispute" and clashes with U.S. Marshalls, "slickers," and Northern aggressors. Sadly, the scrappy pro-Southern county was unable to reverse the tide in the War of Between the States. You can see in the picture where a local rebel spray-painted his displeasure with the outcome. Can't win 'em all.

Still, I have to be fair. This section of Missouri 59 is a beautiful drive lined with curiosities, relics, and in-your-face scenery. At points, the highway is sandwiched between the Elk River and rock bluffs that hang low over the highway, one of the most brilliant sights in the Ozarks. While small towns like Noel and Lanagan are hard-luck shadows of a forgotten tourist trade, they maintain a character lost elsewhere. Few chain stores have invaded, leaving the existing developments occupied by an odd mix of homespun rural and Hispanic businesses. Even the old-fashioned wooden posts remain at the road's edge instead of dull steel guardrails. Missouri 59 is curvy, scenic, unique, and a bit retrograde, which makes it 100% Ozarkbahn.

Traffic: average
Driving challenge: a few good curves, but more views than thrills
Purty mouth: definitely better not have one
Locals: you ain't from around here
Ozarkbahn rating: hootenanny deluxe

Over the River and Through the Ozarks

2009-02-14T21:45:00.012-06:00

In my earliest teens, there were only two things to do: go through puberty, and play Oregon Trail on the Apple II.

While hunting buffalo and getting dysentery on the 'Trail with your digital pioneer family, you often faced the biggest challenge on your way to the West: river crossings. Unless the ferry suddenly started accepting delicious buffalo meat, there's no way you could afford that. "Do you want to ford the river?" Hell yes, let's do this. Inevitably, your poorly-caulked wagon capsized, all your oxen drowned, and the surviving family members died of dysentery. A macabre way to go.

Fortunately, bridges over rivers have become high fashion since 1848. The fun part about the older spans is that they're among the few relics that you can drive a car onto. Genuine drive-through history, and the Ozarks have them in spades.

Powell Bridge - Big Sugar Creek

[Powell Bridge on Bridgehunter.com]
[Joplin Globe - Group Saves Historic Bridge]

A WWI-era truss held together by rust, Powell Bridge has been marked for replacement once already. A concern local effort preserved it (for now), but it's worth visiting before time or progress final claims it. The bridge requires a short detour off highway Missouri-E in Powell, which prevents it from having the same star power as the more recognizable War Eagle Mill Bridge of similar age. However, the light traffic allows you to walk the wooden deck and absorb a serene view of the turquoise-colored Big Sugar Creek.

Lanagan Bridge - Indian Creek

[Lanagan MO-EE bridge on Bridgehunter.com]

Just outside Lanagan, highway Missouri-EE crosses Indian Creek on a narrow, ornate truss built in 1928. Not the oldest around, but it's a lot more visually appealing than the flat concrete blights that have replaced most of these. Didn't crossing a river used to be an oxen-losing adventure? If you're going to conquer the landscape, give it some presence with girders, rivets, and steel like the good old days.

Ozark Bridge - Finley Creek

[Ozark Riverside Drive Bridge on Bridgehunter.com]

The single-wide truss over Finley Creek in Ozark, Missouri, has seen 100 years of service, and is still in regular use. It's a nice part of the setting at the Riverside Inn next door, which has served some of the best catered food I've ever had, shaming countless rubber banquet meals of functions past. The Ozark Mill bridge nearer town is also a classic, but the fried chicken is better if you drive a few miles further.

War Eagle Creek Bridge

[War Eagle Mill Bridge on Bridgehunter.com]

For years the War Eagle bridge has been the backdrop to everything from crafts fairs to Ferrari meets, and is a staple of Ozark tourism. The bridge is an airy steel truss with wooden deck dating to 1907, and sits next to the even older War Eagle Mill. The building has been a functional water-wheel mill for the better part of 200 years, old enough to have been burned down in the Civil War (the true litmus test of anything "historical" in the South). Unless you visit during the hellish craft fair season, it's a great drive from either direction, and picturesque without fail.

Bridges? Because they beat caulking your car shut and fording it the hard way.

[More photographs here]

Northwest Arkansas: the Original Jurassic Park

2009-02-02T22:33:00.007-06:00

In years past, the Ozarks harbored great numbers of the finest roadside treasure of all: dinosaurs.

I remember the youthful awe of the animatronic Dinosaur Days 1986 exhibit at the refurbished University of Arkansas Museum, where the old men's gym was turned into a zoo of life-sized and mildly frightening robo-sauruses from Dinamation.

I also remember the joy of being driven through the Land of Kong fiberglass dinosaur park West of Eureka Springs, where the prehistoric reptiles were slightly less...animated.

[Land of Kong, a.k.a. Dinosaur World at Roadside America]

A sporty somethingasaurus from the Roadside Architecture page.

Even the Fun Land miniature golf course was in its prime by the 1980s, sporting dinosaurs right off College Avenue in Fayetteville. It was no coincidence that Spielberg adapted Jurassic Park to the big screen just a few years later.

Sadly, Dinosaur World closed, along with Fun Land and the University of Arkansas Museum. Fortunately, the dinosaurs live on. Someone put together an excellent gallery here:

[Dinosaurs of Arkansas]

Today I confirmed that the Fun Land T-rex and triceratops sit on a hill along US 412, just a few miles East of Springdale. A propane store in Huntsville adopted the gawky stegosaurus, snapped below:

But that's not all. Mountainburg City Park still maintains its herd right off old Highway 71. Big ups, Mountainburg. You keep the dream alive.

[Google Street View]

We've made living biological attractions so astounding that they'll capture the imagination of the entire planet.
- John Hammond, Jurassic Park

Craigslist in January

2009-01-19T18:59:00.005-06:00

You need a fine set of wheels to travel the Ozarks, and Craigslist's great harvest never disappoints.

Maybe a rare drop-top roadster? Jay Leno shows us the vintage Honda SM600 looks and sounds great (no, seriously, watch the last 90 seconds). A few weeks ago I found one listed up the road in Aurora, MO. Only five grand, and just a hair's breadth away from Summer fun. Do they sell elbow grease in 55-gallon drums?

If you're a little more hairy-nipple'd, this '71 Jeepster is pretty cool. Uncommon find, and according to the original Jeep advert, "In town, this ruffian becomes a lady's man." Chicka-chicka bow-wow.

You know what's also sexy? Spelling your car's name rite. You'll pick up all kind of birds driving your one-off Porsche 924 Audubon Special. Audubon? Autobahn? Ozarkbahn?

But hey, you don't need an antique to get your thrills. 4th-gen F-bodies are plentiful and powerful, a tire-smokin' staple of the Ozark wilds. Am I doing a Ozarkbahn Craigslist Picture of the Month? If I were, here's your January winner, straight out of my native Fayetteville.

1993 Firebird Formula [mirrored here]

Most sellers would love to claim their vehicles were owned by an elderly bi-weekly grocery shopper with a habit for religious maintenance. Let's be honest, though. If you own a Firebird, it spent most of its life as shown in the picture: doing burnouts in front of the elementary school by your house. Don't hide it. The listing says the car "will need a paint job." A picture like this says it will also "need a torque converter, differential, and rear tires."

What now, y'all?

Driven: Arkansas 16

2009-01-14T20:29:00.006-06:00

For enthusiasts of Ozark automotive culture, the area's beauty is also its burden. Most of the better roads are choked with plodding yokels, fiddle-farting bikers, and gawking tourists ferrying between one roadside trap and the next. Dense settlement and agriculture make it a little too hard to escape the mark of development upon the terrain.

That's why Arkansas 16 between St. Paul and Fallsville is undiscovered gold.

[Google Maps route]

The stretch connects points of little consequence, and offers little civilization in between. No stores, no gas stations. The route above is a solid 45 minutes of minimally spoiled Ozarkia. Just the basics: forests, hills, and valleys in one of the more jagged parts of the Boston Mountains.

Speaking of Boston, the Arkansas version is one signpost along the way. Like most of the drive, a polar opposite of Massachusetts version. Less than 9,000 people live in the whole of Newton County. Nice for peace of mind, but if you're in search of a party, there's not much more than a feeling to be found here, and hasn't been for a long time. Cool the engines until you're feelin' satisfied, and don't look back.

As a driver's road, it's not loaded with butt-puckering hairpins and car-swallowing ravines at pavement's edge. However, it's full of interaction from the regular changes in direction and elevation. The boon here is the light traffic and minimal lawful oversight. Set a brisk pace, and enjoy it.

Traffic: minimal, might be worse in warmer months
Driving challenge: moderate
Purty mouth: better not have one
Hippies: sometimes, but they might share
Ozarkbahn rating: Smokin'

Snapshot: Mountain Humor

2009-01-09T20:48:00.008-06:00

Location: Ozark, Missouri
Miataplier: times gorgeous Fall day
Incredulity: exponential

Ozark Moderne

2009-01-04T18:43:00.006-06:00

I'm a fan of modern design, and the Ozark Mountains hide a few gems among all the broken-down pickups and incest.

Huntsville, AR, has a couple of roadside attractions I really like. For one, this derelict, ruler-edged gas station on Main Street. Note the service bays, and pumps without card readers. Catch these rarities while you can. Downhome Auto Repair folded, but one hopes the next tenant keeps it up instead of levelling it.

[Google Street View]

Another sight is the international-flavored "Dennis" house just South of town. For rural North Arkansas, this is as modern as it gets. Minimalist, elevated, and shamelessly...brown. The Renault-esq Murano parked below (which now "imparts a modern art feel" per Nissan) is not a bad choice. Probably more practical in Winter than a Citroen DS, at least. And how about that Highway 23 address sign? Great touch. Bauhaus meets Hog Haus.

[Google Street View]

One more thing that caught my attention were these anachronisms. Payphones? Really? Add big blue bowl housings, and quaint becomes mod-cool next to Highway 7 in Jasper, AR.

Best of Craigslist 2008

2008-12-27T15:02:00.005-06:00

Craigslist, the grassroots classifieds monolith, is essential to any study of Ozark motoring culture. It's a treasure of backyard V8 conversions, mint hearses, and defunct European sedans.

I'm a compulsive Craigslist browser. I've even bought a car off Craigslist, a narrowly successful $500 adventure in retrieving an Infiniti-turned-squirrels'-nest from a shed in rural SW Missouri. Priceless, yet tortured memories.

With 2009 days away, I have to pick a winner from this pool of greatness. My favorite find (and the competition was fierce) in 2008 was this Lisa Frank "Munster" of a 80s show truck, a 1985 Toyota 4X4 in Rogers, AR. [mirrored here]

First of all, it's the rad torquoise frame paint-up and period-correct hot pink graphics. The overdone roll bars with an excess of off-road lights are more eighties gold. Plus, the proud, persistent, all-caps re-listings for weeks and weeks on end. "YOU FEEL LIKE A MOVIE STAR WHEN YOU DRIVE THIS ITS AWSOME."

Whoa, totally, dude.

But the deal maker, the truck's party piece, is that it's the real-life version of the all the George Trosley comics I read (again and again) in CarToons magazine in the 80s. I was weaned on ridiculous hot rods doing wheelies, jokes about running from the police, and of course, lots of exaggerated 4x4s.

I actually have this issue somewhere:

Tubular.

Mission Statement

2008-12-27T12:24:00.002-06:00

Yesterday I was on a brisk drive through rural McDonald County, Missouri, when much like the Ace of Base, I saw the Sign. It opened up my eyes. I saw the sign:

WELL SEASONED OPOSSUM MEATS FOR SALE

The clouds parted like a Monty Python bit, and a cartoon God told me that I must share the beauty and splendor of my scenic, native Ozarkia. At least until I get bored.

Ooooooohwaaaaaa.