Wednesday Evening 27 September
A 1500 descent along the Talamena Parkway hurled us into the heart of Arkansas. Narrow roads wound through acres of yellow pine, which Bill said is harvested for pulp. We crossed and re-crossed the same creek, which apparently fed a large lake near Arkadelphia.
We’ve arrived in the old south, though not quite the heart of Dixie. The first town we entered was in a dry county, so no beer or hard liquor for sale there. However, they did sell daiquiri sour mix. Arkadelphia does sell beer, just not good beer and not on Sundays.
We ate lunch in a vacant lot next to a small country Store in the small village of Alpine. I chatted with the proprietor, Wilma Buck. She and her husband Troy have owned the store forty one years. Several years ago, she said they tried to close it down, but the community raised a ruckus and they decided to keep it open.
Tonight we’re staying in a Days Inn Motel. The room smells of antiseptic. Two copies of the same picture hang on the recently painted walls. Across the street sits Fat Boys Fine Food, where I remember eating eight years ago and eleven years ago. The first time I ate there it was called the Pig Pit. I bought my daughter a T-Shirt there. I tried to buy a tank top for myself today, but the only sizes are X-Large and XX-Large.