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New Mexico to Georgia via
Texas, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi and Alabama
21st September - 2nd October
2008
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After heading south out of Colorado on the
Interstate, we decided to cut across New Mexico on our preferred back
roads. It was here that Harvey got another chance to try
his hand at a spot of cattle herding. After following the
cattle we'd encountered along the road for a couple of miles, at painfully
slow cattle strolling speed, a friendly cowboy kindly parted the sea of
steer and Harvey cautiously picked his way to the front of the herd and open
road.
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Harvey - the cowherd
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View from Capulin Volcano
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Our brief visit to north-eastern New Mexico gave
us the chance to call at another National Park. Capulin Mountain
lay in a large area of volcanic activity which was very sparsely
populated. We were able to drive right up to the volcano's
crater and walk the mile long trail around the rim. Views
from the top were stunning, mostly for the vastness of empty space in the
surrounding area.
We headed to Clayton Lake State Park for the
night. Keen for a spot of angling, the fisherman called up the
ranger to ask about the purchase of the appropriate state fishing license.
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No, we were informed, the State Park did not
sell fishing licenses. The nearest license agent was in the next
town, twelve miles away and was not open on Sundays. Of
course, nobody would ever want to spend a quiet Sunday
fishing!
Luckily the State Park did have another
attraction to keep us entertained. On the far side of the
lake, during building of the dam, construction workers had uncovered an
extensive area of dinosaur tracks hidden beneath the mud.
This, naturally, had caused chaos with the dam construction plans but did
give the area an amazing new tourist attraction. Walking
alongside the tracks of long extinct behemoths was quite an eerie
sensation. Even the claw marks and tracks where the creatures had
dragged their huge tails, were clearly visible. Unfortunately
the boardwalk in the viewing area was in poor repair and we learned that the
park was awaiting funding to make repairs. It would have
been a real shame if the tracks were to be lost more quickly than necessary
due to lack of funding.
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Dinosaur footprint and
Sunset at Clayton Lake SP, NM.
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The next day took us on a brief detour through a
tiny corner of Texas (well we had to didn't we) and into the Oklahoma
panhandle. We'd heard that Oklahoma was flat, that roads
were straight and went on for ever. The road description proved
correct but we were surprised to find the land was not entirely flat and was
actually a continuous flow of rolling undulations. The other
surprise was that we were still at relatively high altitude. Constant
bombardment by unfortunate grasshoppers forced us to keep the side windows
closed in the strong westerly wind. By late afternoon we'd
covered around three hundred miles and camped at Boiling Spring State Park
near the town of Woodward.
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Crossing the corner of
Texas
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After another long day of driving across
Oklahoma, we reached Spavinaw state park, a beautiful secluded riverside
park below a reservoir which supplied water to the city of
Tulsa. Spotting large fish lazing in the river, Phil set
off in pursuit, hoping that a trout might show some interest in his
collection of flies. It turned out that the fish were neither
trout, nor remotely interested, rather they were carp and lacking in
appetite for flies.
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Oklahoma Panhandle Highway
through grasshopper spattered windscree
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New day, new state...we were into
Arkansas. We decided to head into the city of
Fayetteville, in search of tourist information, following road
signs. Once we arrived in the heart of the bustling
college town, the signs naturally disappeared and we had to make do with a
lunch stop at Wal-mart instead, then driving on uninformed.
We spent a tranquil weekend at Bull Shoals
state park, right on the banks of the White River, famed for its
fishing. The fishing turned out to be a little tricky
however. The water flow in the river was controlled by the
dam a little higher upstream. After a period of heavy
rain, water was rushing downstream at a rate of some knots.
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The local fishing method seemed to be to motor a
powerboat as close to the dam as possible, cut the engine and drift
downstream at around five or six knots with the current, dragging a length
of chain from the bow to slow progress to a speed where you may just have a
chance of catching a fish. Without a powerboat, however,
fishing the river was pretty tricky but undeterred our team fisherman set
off to try almost his entire collection of rods and lures.
With each different method he tried, Phil managed to land a fish with a lot
of perseverance and patience.
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A passing snake in the river decided not to use
the patience method to catch his meal, however. Phil turned around to
see his catch protruding from its fanged mouth, as the snake tried to
swallow his hard-won trout. Not amused, he decided not to put up
a fight for the fish!
On our last day in Bull Shoals a friendly
park ranger, on establishing our nationality, insisted that we get in touch
with the most famous Welshman in those parts and made a phone call to put us
in touch. We arranged to meet up with fly-fishing guide
extraordinaire, Davy Wootton, the following day as we were passing his house
near the town of Flippin (yes really).
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Phil tries to hook a White
River fish as they fly by.
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Davy and partner Theresa (T-Bird) kindly invited
us in for a chat, demonstrated their fly-tying talents and gave us not only
delicious home-laid eggs but also pointers on good fishing spots in
Arkansas. Turned out that Davy was from the Pontypool area only
a few miles from our Phil's home in Wales and they several common friends
and acquaintances ! Small world. T-Bird had the most
amazing fingernails and yet still managed an excellent job of
fly-tying! We parted hoping we'd get the chance to fish together
on our next visit to Arkansas, a state which was far exceeding our
expectations with its pretty countryside and friendly residents.
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T-Bird
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Welsh boys Phil and Davy.
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The next Arkansas destination was our first
Corps of Engineers campsite on the banks of the Little Red River at the town
of Heber Springs. An unsuccessful evenings fishing led Phil to take
local advice the following morning. Just what was that bait with
which the locals were having luck? It turned out that the
favourite food of the local trout in the river, raised at the neighbouring
fish hatchery was in fact marshmallows. Skeptical we tried our
luck with some of these sticky sweets, donated by other anglers and sure
enough, the trout had a sweet tooth and we had fish for dinner!
After checking out of the campground, we
headed to Lake Poinsett state park and after settling into our beautiful
lakeside camp site, we inflated our trusty canoe and took to the
water. The lake was alleged to be a good source of
apparently tasty Crappie. We never did get to taste them for
ourselves but we met some friendly fellow anglers afloat and did land a few
Blue Gills and Bream.
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Sweet-toothed fish for
dinner.
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Our last stop in Arkansas would be Lake Dunn,
where despite new Crappie lures and hours of paddling, we still failed in
our search for the elusive Crappie, landing instead only a bass and several
Blue Gills. There was another adventure on the beach
however, when Christine stepped on a "mosquito
landmine". One misstep and she was surrounded by an angry
swarm of mosquitoes disturbed from their home!
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Early next morning we were crossing the great
Mississippi river into the city of Memphis. Again we made the
mistake of following signs for Tourist Information. This
time we ended up in a somewhat dodgy neighbourhood but lived to tell the
tale, despite a few hairy moments when the lights turned
red.
Finally we were at the home of "The
King", Graceland. All was highly organised and we enjoyed a
tour of the mansion itself, the Elvis museums and his private
planes. It was definitely a visit worth making even for those
only with a mild interest in "The King". Plenty of
other visitors were dressed Elvis-style and many brought flower tribute for
his grave in the mansion's garden. His spirit lives on.........
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Crossing the mighty
Mississippi eastward bound
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Elvis' front room, wardrobe
and private plane
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Our route from Graceland took us south into the
state of Mississippi, where we camped at the JP Coleman State Park on
Pickwick Lake. The following day took us through a section
of Alabama and back into Tennessee. We were certainly
ticking off those states on our route map! Of course all
the states deserved a far longer visit sometime in the future.
Back in Tennessee, we crossed our outbound
route and our loop-trip became more of a figure eight as we headed back to
Georgia for the last part of our journey.
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