The first stop after Memphis was Russellville, Arkansas. This town is nestled in a valley between the Ozark and Ouachita Mountains. We stayed in a state park right next to Lake Darandelle, a dammed portion of the Arkansas River. We had a beautiful view from within our air-conditioned RV.
Something very interesting happened while we were there, and I did some research on the event. As dusk neared on our the first day, we started to see mayflies, a few here and there. Their numbers slowly increased and then came to a strong crescendo as dark descended, when I saw zillions over the water. I then read that they "hatch" on hot, humid nights when the moon is but a crescent, which was indeed the case that night. They don't really "hatch", they actually transform from a nymph phase in the water, sometimes with another step in between, to an adult. The adult lives only long enough to mate, and the female to then lay her eggs. Depending on the species, this phase lasts from 30 minutes to a couple of days.
In July of 2014, one species hatched near La Crosse, Wisconsin. There were so many, they showed up on radar as a light to moderate rain! Fly fishermen know all about mayfly hatches, but it was new to Lee and me.
The next morning I saw a large flotilla of barges on the lake, and I was surprised by its size. So Lee and I drove to the dam and lock that afternoon to see just how large the lock was. It was huge, the length of 7 barges and the width of three, plus the tug boat. The lock drops by 54 feet from the level of the lake to the river below. What a difference from the much smaller locks on the C&O Canal!
I took a photo of a plaque that explained the locks of the Arkansas River:
The statistics shown below surprised me, regarding cost of tons per gallon of fuel:
The next stop was Oklahoma City. Oklahoma City has much to offer, we discovered, but since we had only one full day we focused on two museums. The first was the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum, which has a good collection of Russell and Remington paintings and sculptures, artwork by North American Indians, sections on cowboys, rodeos, guns, and a section on Western movies and TV programs with lots of memorabilia. Just beyond the entry is a replica of the iconic and heartbreaking "End of the Trail" sculpture by James Earle Frazer.
We enjoyed the cowboy museum, but we LOVED our next stop, the Banjo Museum! It is a relatively small museum in downtown Oklahoma City, but is the largest of its kind. I learned a lot about banjos, more than I ever knew there was to know! Did you know that the early banjos did not have backs? They were completely open. Pete Seeger played such a banjo. Below is an early banjo from the 1840's. You can see its open back in the mirrored reflection.
Did you know the golden age of the banjo was in the 1920's and 1930's? Banjos were perfected at that time, and have not been as good before or since. They made some beautiful banjos back then, as you will see in the photographs below.
Look at all the banjos in this place! I have never seen so many.
A few of the newer banjos have clear heads that allow you to see the insides of the instruments:
I have to include one more photo from our campground in Oklahoma City:
Fortunately we had no need to use the storm shelter. Most tornadoes occur in the Spring and Fall in this part of the country.
Our final stop during this rush across the country was Amarillo, Texas. Well, this last leg wasn't quite as fast as the previous days because one of the things we feared the most happened. As we were barreling down the freeway, the engine suddenly quit and Lee carefully guided the motorhome to the freeway shoulder, on a bridge unfortunately, so it was a narrow shoulder. Fortunately it is a lesser-traveled part of the country, and big rigs were pretty good about moving over to the far lane as they passed.
Lee did a little investigating and discovered one of the belts on the engine was frayed to little bits. Fortunately we have Roadside Assistance through the Good Sam Club, so Lee called them to arrange for a tow truck. We are also fortunate to have a generator, so we can run the air conditioner when we are not plugged in at an RV park. This is of concern mostly to keep the parakeets comfortable. (Our parakeets have no idea how lucky they are!) Lee was concerned that we might have to be towed, but a giant tow truck arrived with the correct belt, fixed it, and we were on our way. Whew!! Disaster averted!
This episode took three or four hours out of our day. We arrived in Amarillo late, and found we had left the humidity of the east for the welcome aridity of the west.
The next day I cleaned house and did laundry, and Lee and I made a trip to Freightliner for a new belt to have on hand for a future emergency.
We also took some time out to see Cadillac Ranch. I remember reading about it years ago, when, in 1974, a wealthy rancher and several hippy artists from San Francisco collaborated on the project. Several Cadillacs, from a period of years, were buried nose down in the rancher's field, with the tail fins gloriously displayed. The photographs I saw were from the early days, when the Cadillacs were newish, shiny, pastel colored, and intact. Cadillac Ranch quickly became a tourist stop, and then people started spray painting the vehicles. The rancher and original artists were okay with that. Then people starting taking parts as souvenirs, including the tail fins. Today, people come from all over the world to spray paint the cars. Lee and I did not do that, but we saw people doing it. People spray, take a photo, leave, and than someone else comes along and covers over what was just done. Who knew? The rituals of humans are strange, aren't they?
Above, as seen from the road. It looks a little like Stonehenge, although the Cadillacs are in a straight line rather than a circle.
People leave their spray cans on the ground. I don't understand that. Had I known, I would have brought a couple of bags and picked some up. The amount of trash is overwhelming, though, too much for one person to deal with.
In an amusing tribute to Cadillac Ranch, our campground had a half-buried very real motorhome at the entrance. It tickled my funny bone. The owner had a sense of humor!
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