Project 49

This was my second visit to Kentucky, because I had once changed planes at Cincinnati airport. “What?”, I hear you say. “Cincinnati is in Ohio, not Kentucky”. That’s true, but Cincinnati airport is in neighboring Kentucky, so, strictly speaking, I had already been to Kentucky once before. (Ohio, on the other hand, I have yet to visit – but plan to pass through later in this trip.)

To visit Kentucky on this trip, I decided to make a short detour north of Memphis to visit a geographic anomaly: The “Kentucky Bend“. This is a small portion of Kentucky that is almost completely surrounded by the Mississippi River, and is accessible by land only from Tennessee.

The Kentucky Bend is a flat, flood-prone piece of farmland, and hardly seems representative of Kentucky as a whole. (When one thinks of “Kentucky”, one imagines rolling hills.) Kentucky is definitely one state that I hope to explore in more detail in some future trip.

Just north of here, across the Mississippi River, is the small town of New Madrid, Missouri, which is famous in its own right, for a series of powerful earthquakes in 1811-1812. These earthquakes were as strong as an estimated magnitude 8.1! Although earthquakes occur far more frequently along the West Coast (at the edge of the North American Plate), there are also fault lines at some places – such as here – inside the plate, and these, too, can produce major earthquakes – just not as frequently.

Nobody knows, of course, when an earthquake this strong will strike this area again; it is unlikely to happen anytime soon. Back in 1811-1812, this area was very sparsely populated. But if such an earthquake were to happen again today, it would likely be the most expensive natural disaster in US history. Buildings in this part of the country aren’t built to earthquake codes like they are in California. There are many masonry buildings (which are damaged easily in earthquakes), and all of the freeway overpasses here look very flimsy compared to those in California. Many, many buildings in Memphis and St. Louis would collapse for sure.

Looking into the Kentucky Bend, at the Tennessee-Kentucky state line

Private farmland - undergoing a controlled burn - at the western edge of the Kentucky Bend

A flooded country road at the northern end of the Kentucky Bend

The Mississippi. America’s longest and most famous river; it is the traditional symbolic boundary between the western and eastern sides of the country. So crossing it – in this case, from Arkansas to Memphis, Tennessee – was a significant milestone on my trip. This was my second visit to Memphis (I had flown there for a conference 14 years earlier).

Memphis claims, with some justification, to be “The home of the Blues and the birthplace of Rock and Roll”. One of its major tourist attractions is Beale Street – home to many blues clubs and restaurants.

Beale Street, Memphis

"The boyhood home of Carl Perkins" (in Tiptonville, Tennessee)

Another name that inevitably comes to mind when you think of “Memphis, Tennessee” is Graceland – Elvis Presley’s mansion. When I was in Memphis 14 years ago I didn’t bother going to Graceland, because I figured it would be a rather tacky tourist trap. But this time I figured “Oh why not? It might be another 14 years – or more – until I’m in Memphis again”.

Before my visit, I had imagined Graceland as being a huge mansion on a sprawling expanse of land, sitting out in the countryside. No so. It’s actually in the suburbs of Memphis. And the mansion, although certainly not small, is actually quite modestly-sized (especially for the southern U.S., where huge homes on large tracts of land are commonplace). And yes, it is a bit of a tourist trap, but I’m glad I saw it nonetheless.

The "Graceland" mansion

The "Jungle Room", Graceland

Graves of Elvis Presley and relatives, Graceland

This was my first visit to Arkansas.

Entering the state at its north-western corner (just south of Joplin, Missouri), I first drove to the small town of Bentonville. This otherwise unimposing town is remarkable for being the birthplace, and headquarters, of one of the world’s largest and most influential companies: The retailing giant Walmart. The company’s headquarters are easy to miss. From the road, it looks not like a traditional office building, but instead just like one of its ‘supercenter’ retail stores. Looking closer, though, you can see that it’s actually a pair of buildings – one signed “Transportation”; the other signed “Logistics”.

In the center of Bentonville (on the main square), you can also see Sam Walton’s first “five and dime” store – the predecessor to today’s Walmart. The company now maintains this building as a visitor’s center. The irony, of course, is that across the country, small neighborhood stores like this have been put out of business by larger, more efficient chain stores such as Walmart. Although Walmart gets a lot of criticism (much of it deserved), it’s hard not to admire its success.

I then drove south, through the Ozark Mountains, to the city of Hot Springs. With a maximum elevation of only about 2500 feet, the Ozarks would probably not be considered “mountains” if they were located in a western state. In this part of the U.S., though, they’re a significant geographic feature. At this time of the year (early Spring), the trees covering the Ozarks looked bare and unattractive. A few weeks later, though, there’ll probably be lots of green.

Modern farm buildings, at the base of the Ozarks

Old farm buildings, at the base of the Ozarks, at sunset

Hot Springs National Park is unusual for U.S. National Parks in that it encompasses not a natural landscape, but instead an urban area – most notably “Bathhouse Row“, one side of a street in the city of Hot Springs, Arkansas. The park commemorates a bygone era before ubiquitous indoor hot water, and jacuzzis. People would travel great distances to soak in the hot springs, sometimes seeking medicinal benefits. Several elaborate buildings were built on “Bathhouse Row” to accommodate these visitors.

These days, with hot springs having lost much of their appeal, only one of the bathhouses remains open as a commercial business. But the entire row remains preserved as a National Park.

Fordyce Bathhouse, Hot Springs National Park

Fordyce Bathhouse, Hot Springs National Park

Quapow Bathhouse, Hot Springs National Park

The city of Hot Springs has another, more recent, claim to fame: It was where Bill Clinton grew up and went to high school. On my second day there, I went to “McClard’s“, a famous (and delicious!) local southern-style barbeque restaurant. (Bill Clinton might have spent a little too much time there, because a few years ago he had to have heart bypass surgery.)

On my second day in the Hot Springs area, I went on my first mountain bike ride during this trip. I rode a section of the “Womble Trail in the nearby Ouachita (pronounced “WAH-sha-ta”) National Forest.

In the Ouachita National Forest

In the Ouachita National Forest

In the Ouachita National Forest

In the Ouachita National Forest

To end my trip through Arkansas, I visited Little Rock – the state’s largest city and capital. The city sits on the Arkansas River (which flows into the Mississippi).

Little Rock Central High School is famous for pivotal events in 1957, when President Eisenhower used army troops to help enforce a Supreme Court decision ordering that schools be racially integrated.

Junction Bridge, over the Arkansas River in Little Rock

Little Rock Central High School

I also visited the Clinton Presidential Library and Museum. Unfortunately the “blue dress” was nowhere to be seen 🙂

While I was looking at the exhibits, a security guard asked me if I was John Walsh, the host of the TV show “America’s Most Wanted”. Geez, I don’t look at all like him; for starters, he’s 14 years older than I am!

Clinton Presidential Library and Museum

President Clinton's limousine

After passing through the south-eastern corner of Kansas (coming from Oklahoma), I spent the evening in Joplin, in the south-western corner of Missouri. (The following day, I headed south, to Arkansas.)

Joplin, like many towns and cities that I’ve visited on this trip so far, lies on the old U.S. “Route 66“, which ran between southern California and Chicago. (In its heyday, it was mostly driven in the reverse direction, as people migrated west, towards California.) I will now be leaving “Route 66”, as I head towards southern and eastern states.

One piece of trivia about this part of Missouri: It is close to the mean center of the U.S. population.

This brief visit to Missouri was, strictly-speaking, my second visit to the state (because a few years ago I changed planes in Saint Louis airport), but for all practical purposes, this was my first visit.

As predicted, the weather front had passed through overnight, but with only a brief thunderstorm. The following morning, it was cloudy and blustery, and much colder. The previous day, the temperature had been has high as 90 degrees F (32 C) during my drive across Oklahoma. Today, however, it started out at 46 degrees F (8 C), and got no higher than the 50s F (low-mid teens C) during the day.

Storm clouds over downtown Joplin

"Praying Hands" statue, Webb City

From Oklahoma, I passed briefly through the south-eastern corner of Kansas (en route to Joplin, in south-western Missouri).

This was my first visit to Kansas, and it is likely to be my last for a while. I deliberately spent very little time (and no money) in Kansas, to protest the state’s removal of evolution from their schools’ science curriculum a few years ago. (They since reversed themselves on this, but I continue to protest their stupidity.)

Pecan trees near Chetopa ("The Pecan Capital of Kansas")

Baxter Springs, on old 'Route 66'

“Severe Weather”. This was the warning that I saw on “The Weather Channel” when I turned on the TV on Sunday morning. I had stopped overnight in Weatherford, in western Oklahoma, and planned to continue north-eastward across the state (to Joplin, Missouri, where I planned to spend Sunday night).

The “Severe Weather” warning called for high winds, with a band of thunderstorms (including possible tornadoes) and hail moving eastward. It was forecast to pass through Missouri Sunday night. The Weather Channel’s reports are often a bit alarmist. They get their audience (and thus their advertising revenue) from reporting bad weather. (Following a hurricane, their reporters often look noticeably disappointed if damage ended up being less than predicted.) Nonetheless, this warning seemed serious – and it was already very windy outside – so I decided to continue driving as soon as possible, so I wouldn’t encounter bad weather while on the road.

Weatherford is the home town of (Gemini and Apollo) astronaut Tom Stafford, and the town has a space museum named in his honor. I had hoped to visit this museum in the morning, before I left, but unfortunately it didn’t open until 1pm on Sundays. (This is presumably to allow time for people to go to church beforehand; this is a very religious part of the country.)

This was my first visit to Oklahoma, which became my first ‘new’ state on this trip. Driving across the eastern Texas panhandle (the previous day), and then into Oklahoma, I found that the terrain became more interesting – gently undulating, with greener vegetation and more trees.

En route, I stopped at Oklahoma City – the state’s largest city and capital – which lies in the very center of the state. I visited the Oklahoma City National Memorial, on the former site of the federal office building that was destroyed by a terrorist bomb on April 19, 1995, killing 168 people.

Oklahoma City National Memorial

Oklahoma City National Memorial. (Each chair represents one of the 168 victims of the bombing.)

Armadillo roadkill near Yukon, Oklahoma ("The Home of Garth Brooks")

A barbeque fast-food truck visited in north-eastern Oklahoma. (Fortunately, armadillo wasn't on the menu 🙂

“Is this the way to Amarillo?”. That was the question posed in a 1970s pop song by British singer Tony Christie (who, in reality, had probably never visited the place). For most people living outside the U.S., this was the first they had heard about the city of Amarillo, in northern Texas.

Crossing into Texas from New Mexico, I entered “Central Daylight Time”, and had to set my clock ahead one more hour. Being a ‘night owl’, I’m finding it hard to keep waking up at a reasonably early time as I move eastward across the country. (Fortunately, though, I’ll get these hours back when I return westward later in the trip.)

Texas is, geographically, by far the largest state that I will visit on this trip. (Only Alaska is larger.) However, by driving across the ‘Panhandle‘ – the rectangular region at the northern end of the state – I was able to cross Texas in just a few hours.

Amarillo is the only city of any significant size in this part of Texas. The area is dominated by cattle farming. (Vegetarians would be miserable here.) In fact, it was local cattle farmers who (unsuccessfully) sued Oprah Winfrey in 1998 for comments associating American beef with ‘mad cow disease’. (Oprah Winfrey is not exactly someone who I look to for advice on healthy eating.)

There’s a steakhouse here called the “Big Texan” that will give customers a free steak dinner, if they can eat the whole dinner within 1 hour. The catch? The steak is 72 ounces – i.e., 4 1/2 pounds! Things come bigger in Texas.

On the wall of the "Stockman's Cafe", located inside the "Amarillo Livestock Exchange"

'Leaning Water Tower', near the town of Groom (east of Amarillo)

This area of Texas is extremely flat. Often, while driving along the freeway here, I couldn’t see a single hill in any direction. It’s also very windy and dusty (at least it was, when I drove through). I saw several wind turbines in the area.

Just to the west of Amarillo is an unusual sculpture called “Cadillac Ranch“, where a row of ten old Cadillacs have been ‘planted’, front-first, in the middle of a wheat field. The bodies of the Cadillacs are rusting away, and have all been covered with graffiti, but nonetheless, this is a noteworthy – and very American – attraction.

"Cadillac Ranch", near Amarillo

"Cadillac Ranch", near Amarillo

Reentering New Mexico after visiting the Four Corners Monument, I drove south to rejoin I-40, to take me further east. In the northwestern corner of New Mexico, the landscape is dominated by Shiprock – a 7000 foot elevation rock formation that towers over the surrounding landscape, and is visible for miles. (A nearby town is also named “Shiprock”.)

This was my fourth visit to New Mexico, but only the first where I had driven there all the way from California.

Most cars’ license plates (number plates) in New Mexico say “New Mexico USA”, rather than just “New Mexico” – to remind people outside the state that New Mexico really is a part of the United States! (People I know from New Mexico have told me that yes, indeed, they have met people outside the state who are confused by this.)

After rejoining I-40 at Gallup, I crossed the Continental Divide – the line that marks the boundary between watersheds that flow into the Pacific Ocean, and watersheds that flow into the Atlantic Ocean (perhaps via the Gulf of Mexico). This is one of the two symbolic boundaries between the West and East of the United States. The other is the Mississippi River, which I will cross later in this trip.

I then made a short detour to take a tour of the Acoma Pueblo – one of the oldest continuously-occupied settlements in North America (dating from 1150 AD or earlier).

The Rocky Mountains end in central New Mexico, and I was able to avoid them on this part of the trip. (I will, however, pass through them on the return portion of the trip – probably in Montana.) After crossing the Sandia Mountains just east of Albuquerque, the countryside turns into very flat, dry grassland.

At Four Corners Monument, 4 states – Arizona, New Mexico, Colorado, and Utah – meet at a single point. Entering via New Mexico, I was able to walk around this point, and thereby visit Colorado and Utah very quickly. I have visited both of those beautiful states several times before, so I didn’t mind giving them short shift this time. (However, anyone touring the U.S. for the first time should definitely try to include Colorado and Utah in their itinerary.)

Left leg in Arizona; Right leg in New Mexico; Looking towards Utah (to the left) and Colorado (to the right)

One tends to think of Arizona as being a hot dry state, and for much of the state, that’s certainly true. The north-western portion of the state, however, is at quite high elevation, and can receive a fair bit of precipitation (often snow), especially during the winter months.

The major geological feature (and tourist attraction) in this part of the state is the spectacular Grand Canyon. Because I had visited the Grand Canyon just one year earlier, I chose not to revisit it on this trip. Instead, I bypassed it, taking the I-40 freeway directly between Kingman and Flagstaff. The highest elevation on this section of the highway is more than 7300 feet. Flagstaff, where I spent the night, is almost as high, and can get quite cold at this time of year. It was close to freezing when I arrived in the evening.

Heading east from Flagstaff, the land becomes flatter and drier. Normally, there wouldn’t be any significant geological feature in this area. About 50,000 years ago, however, a meteorite – estimated at just 50 meters in diameter – slammed into the Earth here, creating a huge crater, 4000 feet (1200 meters) in diameter. This is probably the most well-known meteor crater on Earth.

Being an astronomy fan, this is a place that I had long wanted to visit, even before coming to the U.S. I have now visited it four times. It’s a fascinating place to visit, even though you are not permitted to hike to the crater floor.

The Interstate 40 freeway follows much of the historic U.S. Route 66, immortalized in the song “(Get Your Kicks On) Route 66“. After the construction of the freeway, many of the towns on Route 66 fell into decline. One such town – just east of the Meteor Crater – is Winslow, which is most well-known by the line “Standin’ on the Corner in Winslow, Arizona” in another song, “Take it Easy“, by the Eagles. When your main claim to fame is a line from a song, you find a way to turn it into a tourist attraction.

Further east is the remarkable Petrified Forest National park – an area of desert strewn with petrified logs. I was surprised by how much of the petrified wood retained the appearance of their original trees. From a distance, they really do look just like logs; not stone.

Petrified Forest National Park	Petrified Forest National Park
Painted Desert, Petrified Forest National Park	Painted Desert Inn, Petrified Forest National Park

A little to the northeast is Canyon de Chelly National Monument. (“Chelly” is pronounced “shay”.) Being a National Monument, it is considered to be not quite as significant or noteworthy as a National Park, but, in my opinion, is definitely worthy of National Park status. The park contains not only spectacular scenery, but also the remains of several ancient cliff dwellings (similar to nearby Mesa Verde National Park in Colorado).

Spider Rock, Canyon de Chelly National Monument

White House Ruin, Canyon de Chelly National Monument