Cycling Across America #34
Part 34 of the Cycle-Across-America series relayed day by day, exactly ten years after it happened. (Read from the start in Boston)
Ten years ago today, before I knew what the Internet could do, I was ambling through Arkansas:
September 4, Wednesday I reckon. After midnight.I’m fatigued, about one mile from the Oklahoma border - as the crow flies, maybe 4 or 5 along the highway.
Today was a good day; I don’t know why. It went well. I feel very alert and alive.
Gambled on having no miles under my belt before breakfast. Russellville. I was concerned that if I got nothing across the river in Dardanelle, there might be nowhere to find food until Paris - about 40 miles away. So had another great cultural experience of stodge and grease at Burger King, and then bloated myself on several cokes.
As it happened when I crossed the Arkansas river into Dardanelle I discovered it was quite a nice town and I could have eaten there. The bridge across was too tight for space and busy with traffic for me to stop and take a photo.Once across though I just turned right and then it was time to put my map away as it was Highway 22 all the way to Fort Smith - or at least to Barling where I would then work out a safe route to cycle in on.
I’ve just written a few more postcards, and I’m tickled by the stamps I bought yesterday. Each postcard has two stamps. The 32c stamp is of Marilyn Monroe in full colour in all her glory. And the 23c stamp is an ink drawing of Mary Cassatt.
Today’s route followed the Arkansas River west. I was on the south side heading for Subiaco, Paris, Caulksville, and Charlston. If I stayed on the north side I would be going through London, Ozark, Mulberry, Alma, and into Fort Smith via Van Buren. It’s impossible not to enjoy town names in America.
At one point there was good view of the nuclear power station on the other side of the river, actually Lake Dardanelle, and I recalled the handbook in the motel last night that advised you what do to in the event of a nuclear accident.
It was an easy day mostly, a pleasant day. Seventy-nine miles compared to yesterday’s 78. More dead armadilloes. I have yet to see a live one.
I liked Subiaco, and I ate in Paris so I could say I ate in Paris. It was a crisp day of green fields and solid but not overbearing traffic. Until the last stretch when I went alongside Fort Chaffee.
Fort Chaffee is a 70,000-plus acre military base which was a major training site for thousands of troops during World War II. It was also where Elvis was inducted into the U.S. army in 1958. It’s been declared inactive for many years but is reactivated from time to time, like for refugees from Vietnam and from Cuba.
Cycling alongside it was weird. It went on for miles with all these huts covered with grass. And no people. It was like a film set. “Biloxi Blues” was filmed there. Around this point there were signs on the road keeping a running total of deer killed in traffic accidents.
It was getting dark as I came into Fort Smith, and suddenly I lost track of my roads. Big busy roads with traffic in a built up area in the dark, and I’m fretting as it really isn’t all that long ago when I was hit by the truck that has me limping in pain still.
In these circumstances the nearest motel will do, and I don’t care what the town looks like. The sun will shine on Fort Smith in the morning.
Read the Next Entry (#35) in my Bicycle Trip Across America
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