Showing posts with label Parkway. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parkway. Show all posts

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Riding to Chili's


Maria had to work at the paper for awhile yesterday, so I fired up the John Deere and mowed the lawn.
With some daylight left, we decided to take the K1200GT out for a ride. We followed the Crowley's Ridge Parkway up to Paragould for a light dinner at Chili's.
No beer, thanks - we're riding.
Unsweet iced tea.
Around here you have to specify or they might bring you iced tea that's heavily laced with sugar.

Wednesday, May 07, 2008

Why do these people look concerned?


I took this rather unflattering photo of my parents at Yellowstone National Park during the summer of 1956, somewhere around my 11th birthday.
I guess the best way to characterize their look is "concern." Thinking back, I realize the probably spent a lot of time looking at me that way.
In this particular instance, it may have been because I was working my new Kodak Brownie camera while on crutches. I was recovering from a broken leg that I suffered in April when I rode a bicycle into the path of a Cadillac a couple of blocks from my house. I was chasing/racing a friend and I was on a borrowed bike with multiple gears and hand brakes instead of my own bike, which had one gear and a coaster brake.
The good news was that the Cadillac was being driven by one of the town's two doctors. After checking in with my parents, he drove me the 20 miles to Home Hospital in Lafayette, Ind.
My father would have been 46 when this photo was made. I'm 16 years older than that now and I think I still look younger than he did then. But then that's how the filter of memory works, isn't it?
My dad has a cigarette in his right hand. It would have been a Winston. He's wearing a two-pocket sport shirt and a windbreaker - standard 1950s tourist garb. I learned my pants pocket contents system from him, so I can be fairly certain his change and his Zippo lighter are in his right front pocket and his keys are in his left pocket, wallet in back left and handkerchief in back right.
My mother, of course, is holding her purse in her right hand. She pretty much never went anywhere without her purse. In later years, she grew more cautious and carried it tucked up in her left arm like a football.
Somewhere in the parking lot where they're standing was our 1956 two-tone green Ford Fairlaine.
Yellowstone was a very different place in the '50s. Despite warnings from rangers, people routinely fed bears from their cars. Consequently, bears are a common sight along the road. Like morons, we fed a couple of them from our car and lived to tell about it. We were in the park about two days and counted 49 bears during that time. This was also before America became litter-conscious and it was common to see people toss trash - sometimes paper grocery bags full - from their car windows as they blazed down the highway. Even then, I knew it was wrong and was shocked when I saw a blizzard of trash explode from the window of a car we were following across the Wyoming countryside.
Just to give a little more historical perspective, Dwight Eisenhower was in his first term in the White House, cars had AM radios and no seatbelts and rock & roll was a brand new phenomenon.

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Mister Hanky is sooooo popular!


Since I installed the Feedjit Live Traffic Feed widget on this site a week or so ago, I've been able to tell how people get here.
Some, who know where they're going and maybe even have it bookmarked, come in directly to the blog's URL. A few get here through our friend Lauri's blog link.
And the rest come via a Google search for a subject that I've written about at one time or another.
Guess what the most frequent Google search is that bring people to my blog.
An Oct. 15, 2007, post titled "Unfortunate Resemblance" in which I noted how much the Goobertown Tree Farm Christmas peanut looks like Mister Hanky, the Christmas Poo, from South Park.
Well, now I've given Google yet another Mister Hanky reference to find.
And just for good measure, here's a photo of a larger-than-life (think about it) image of Mister Hanky that adorns a commercial building down at the west end of Front Street in Fairplay, Colo., which is where the real South Park is. I shot it about three years ago while visiting our friends Tim and Linda in nearby Alma.
Come to think of it, we're overdue for some Colorado mountain air.

Probing the Parkway


I explored farther north on the Crowley's Ridge Parkway scenic route yesterday afternoon on a pleasant 125-mile motorcycle ride.
I took the route as far north and east as Piggott before picking up U.S. 49 for a quick run home.
It was a sunny day with temperatures in the low 70s and the crop dusters were out by the squadrons spraying the cotton fields. I managed to avoid getting sprayed, but did catch a whiff of agrochemical as I rode past one freshly dusted field.
The parkway is really just a series of Arkansas and U.S. highways and lacks the consistency and elegance of the Blue Ridge Parkway or the Natchez Trace. That said, it is a great twisty road with lots of elevation changes with the occasional digression out into the flatlands to the west of Crowley's Ridge.
There's rain in the forecast for the next few days, but I hope to explore the southern section of the route later this spring.