Branson to Fayetteville

From Branson, Mo to Fayetteville, Arkansas you have a multitude of different routes to choose from. Your choice depends upon your personal tolerance of winding roads and possible delays. The back highways of any hilly region are necessarily winding and can be quite remote.

My chosen route to Fayetteville was over those thin, winding ribbons of asphalt that take digression seriously when joining point A to point B. Winding back roads can be dangerous and on this day they were the undoing of one person driving ahead of me.

I came upon a queue of cars that wound around the bend a head and showed up still in place as the road wound around and over a hill in view further ahead. The folks in line were in no rush. Many of them were sitting on the hoods of their cars or on the tailgates of their truck. It was a lovely day for an extended visit and the accident ahead was as good an excuse as any to sit in the sun and shoot the breeze. Most seemed non-plussed by the tragedy ahead. The person was dead (so the grapevine told) and the proper authorities has been contacted additional fussing is for the people in front of the line.

I happen to be one of those drivers that, when I am in the driving part of a trip I prefer to be moving… in any direction. The destination is still at the end of the road and an extra 15 or 20 miles or road is an extra 15 or 20 miles of scenery. The road, already digressive had now completely changed the subject and for me to follow the conversation I would need to turn around and find a different route.

The new route took me to a town called Huntsville, Arkansas, "Crossroads of the Ozarks." In Huntsville there is a place called Grandma's Kitchen. I stopped for some pie. Grandma's kitchen looked a likely place for a slice, what Grandma didn't make pie? Grandma's had fried dough bread as one of it's featured special treats.

Fried dough bread is a country-eatin' standard. Take a ball of your raw bread dough and stretch it like a pizza crust and drop it into your hot oil. Let it cook until it is golden and you have one genuine delicious treat. Grandma says it's perfect with powdered sugar, jam & jelly or just hot with fresh butter melting on it. Just the thing for what ails ya. But I was there for the pie. They had coconut pie, pecan pie and banana cream pie, but my eye was taken by the blackberry cobbler. This cobbler was close enough to pie to pass my muster: Crust on top? Check. Crust on the bottom? Check. Delicious blackberry stuff twixt the twain? Check.

"One piece of cobbler, please." The coffee was expectedly thin, but a good piece of blackberry cobbler will make up for weak coffee any day. Buttery, flakey goodness brought solace to my soul, but Fayetteville was still somewhere ahead, so I tipped my hat to the purple smear on the plate, left a tip for the waitress and hit the road. Ah, life is good when you have pie. I meandered through the lovely, landscapes that make up the Ozarks of North-west Arkansas passing the "Rut & Strut Outdoors Supply" en route.

I had just passed a sign that stated Fayetteville was nine miles ahead when I immediately passed another sight that read "Welcome to Fayetteville, first home of Bill and Hillary Clinton." A mile further I passed another sign that read "Welcome to Fayetteville Track Capitol of the world." My, these Fayetteville folk are mighty friendly. I wondered how many times I might be welcomed before I reached the actual city limits…

The country highway thinned into a neighborhood street. Rough, black asphalt exercised my truck's suspension as tiny, damp-looking houses witnessed my passing. Soon enough the street opened up into a byway again. There were some storefronts, empty space, a larger street crossing, another large crossing, all promising to grow into something yet larger and more active. Then, just when I thought the center of town was at hand, everything petered out. An interstate crossed overhead with the promise of miles of carefree driving. Was that all there was to Fayetteville? I felt cheated… robbed. This was the First home of Hillary and Bill Clinton. This was the Track Capitol of the World. Where were the Tracks? I don't think they were referring to Trains. Where did it go? I looked at my map and saw that according to the dot that represented Fayetteville, AR I had just zapped right through it. Still, it didn't make sense. Fayetteville is home of the University of Arkansas Razorbacks… it was the first home of Hillary and Bill Clinton… it is the Track Capitol of the World. I must have missed something. I decided to drive through the campus of the University of Arkansas, no doubt the town proper is just North of campus.

The University of Arkansas, Fayetteville has a special entrance all of it's own, It is impressive and wide. It passes by the track stadium, the football stadium, some other sports pavilion—Maybe an indoor track arena—and, it seemed like, a dozen more gigantic monuments to the witnessing of sport events…. thought there probably aren't that many. Pass through the main section of the campus until you have to zig to the left or zag to the right. The two cars ahead of me went right, so I followed their lead. They then turned left onto the next street and I followed. They soon turned onto different side roads, I pressed on. Once again, I was passing through an area that was definitely not city and becoming less so by the mile. When the interstate showed up again I got on it and headed south. I decided I would drive to the very last exit that said Fayetteville and see where that took me. That strategy seemed to work I found a sight with an arrow that said Fayetteville and followed in the direction it pointed determined not to turn until I saw another sign that pointed in a different direction.

Entry into Fayetteville... Look, a gigantic Tyson factory… and look at all of the bail-bond storefronts across the street! My experience has taught me that Bail-Bondsmen tend to set up their offices right by the county courthouses, but I hadn't considered that Fayetteville would have the courthouse in a chicken factory. Hmmm, I wonder what this implies about the character of people who work in slaughterhouses? Still this isn't what I figured Fayetteville, First home of Bill and Hillary Clinton, Track Capitol of the World, would be like. I continued on… the campus approached and passed on the west and finally! There, on the left! The semblance of a town center. Attractive brick buildings! I seemed to be on an old artery highway. Old hotels from the 40's , shopping centers and other commercial buildings. This was more like it. Still, I drove on until I hit the interstate again. I had missed important stuff twice already, there still might be more. When I hit the interstate again I knew that Fayetteville had a town center. Let's take a look at it.

The town square is quaint and lovely and… square. But that is just the beginning. Once you know WHERE the town is, start circling the side streets and the areas around it. Lovely neighborhoods, just bumpy with hills a lively spot is Dickenson street. It runs East out from the campus. As you are walking, the first few businesses are places to sell your text books and get some cash, keep walking and you are provided with multiple opportunities to spend the cash before it burns a hole too big in your pocket. There is a slew of watering holes on Dickrenson. Street. One waiter related that The University of Arkansas Razorbacks is the third biggest party school in the country. By the number of drinking establishments adjacent to the campus this is hardly surprising. But don't stop now and begin your binge-drinking, turn to the north and discover all of the lovely neighborhoods there are in Fayetteville. Walking up and down those hills you will gain buns of steel and discover a pretty and quaint Arkansas town.

They have a most delightful park, both wondrous and disturbing at the same time. It is the landscaping in the park that concerns me the most. Don't get me wrong, it is imaginative and beautifully done. One creative bit is they use different varieties of lettuce as a border plant. This works quite well and looks great. However, it leaves me subtly disquieted. Either Fayetteville has the most happy and discreet bunnies in the country or they have some way of, um, modifying the behavior of the bunnies in the vicinity of the park because not one of those lettuce heads had been nibbled on and, in my garden at least, bunnies love lettuce.