Blowing Through Farm Country
by Kes the Photobean
We left for the Plains at an interesting time.
Crazy winds of up to 60mph pelted the Jeep and Teardrop. The interstate that would take us to Kansas actually closed behind us. Gusts of wind carried dust into the air, clouding our visibility just enough to be annoying. We had no problem driving through the sudden change in weather, but I’ll be the first to admit I was uneasy. A little dog named Toto once told me that Kansas is known for its tornadoes.
Much to Sam’s chagrin, I wasn’t too excited to go storm chasing with the Teardrop. Before we left, Ben assured us that wind storms and tornadoes were totally different.
I really had no choice but to believe him.
How do you like our windy hairdos?
Thankfully, despite the gusts here and there, our drive was largely uneventful. Today would mark the first of many long days spent driving. Podcasts, songs, and good ol' fashioned conversation kept our minds occupied as the rolling hills soon made way for the farmlands of Kansas.
I still saw the desert when I closed my eyes. When they opened, I felt as if I teleported into another world, one full of silos, tractors, and vast fields empty of last year’s harvest.
We didn’t plan to spend too much time in Kansas. I hate to say it, but at the time we just felt like there wasn’t much to see. I’m sure many other people would agree, though I think we just didn’t know where to look. Kansas may be flat, but there are certainly a few hidden gems scattered within its borders.
Take this place for example:
Somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, stand remnants of Kansas's oceanic past.
These mini monuments even had an arch hidden away. The closer we got to their base, the stronger the winds became.
Nests made of spit and clay perch underneath the arch, protected from the brewing storms
Of course, we couldn't resist taking a few glamour shots with the Jeep and Teardrop.
Dotted across the landscape were these distant oil drills. Their slow rhythm stood in contrast to the otherwise still lands beside the highway.
Oklahoma was a similar story. In my defense, I tried to dig up some insider intel, but my one Oklahoman friend told me to leave and never come back. With no other leads, we decided to traverse into Tulsa in search of adventure. Who knew we’d actually find it?
A quick stop for ice cream turned into a sun filled day wandering an insanely cool park in Tulsa.
Half sculpture, half playground this park was chock full of fun activities for people of all ages.
It's weird finally being an age where I daydream about taking my kids to these places instead of playing in them myself. Maybe I just want to have an excuse to sit in one of those pears.
A quick break from walking on these surprisingly comfy chairs? Yes please.
When we stumbled upon a field of swings, we couldn't help but hop on.
Half the fun of a swing is jumping off!
Fun contraption or torture device? I guess it depends on who's pushing me.
A menagerie of found things was hiding in plain sight! I absolutely love seeing what creativity can drive a person to accomplish.
Miles were flying by in what felt like no time at all. The Plains eventually gave way to forested areas and soon enough we popped into Arkansas after three days of driving. I really had no idea what to expect from this state, only that there were hot springs and diamonds to be found.
Oh Arkansas, Where Have You Been All My Life?
by Sam the Other Bean
I don’t know about you, but for me Arkansas is just one of those states that I really never thought about. Honestly, I didn’t even really know where it was located in the United States until we actually visited. Whenever Arkansas did come up all that came to mind was rolling hills and farmland. Was there more to this state than just that? Well, I guess I was about to find out.
As we ventured further east across Oklahoma I was surprised by how quickly the plains turned into giant rolling hills. The Jeep roared as we climbed each hill and grumbled when I shifted to go down the other side. Before long we were in Arkansas and, as usual, my expectations were already blown.
Arkansas is, in fact, made up of rolling hills, although the word ‘hills’ makes these giant ripples in the Earth sound much smaller than they actually are. In place of cows and crops, as I had originally expected, we were welcomed with nothing but lush forests and greenery as far as the eye could see (which, granted, wasn’t actually that far, but you get the point). Even better, much of the area in which we were staying was national forest. If I wasn’t excited before entering the state, I definitely was now.
We made camp about an hour outside of Hot Springs on Lake Oachita. When I say on Lake Oachita, well, I’ll just say that’s a little too close to the truth. From the door of the Teardrop it was about a 50 foot walk to the water’s edge. After spending so much time out West I’d almost forgotten that the East has its perks too, and getting to camp so close to water is definitely one of them.
You’d be hard pressed to find a lake this big, much less a campsite right next to it, where I’m from.
We enjoyed the nice weather for the rest of the evening and crawled into bed early that night in anticipation of the next day. We were going diamond mining and, above all else, I could not afford to have a grumpy Kes on my hands if I actually wanted to find anything.
Crater of Diamonds State Park
By Sam
Crater of Diamonds State Park is probably the coolest state park I’ve been to. Sure, the scenery is decent and the people are nice, but that’s not why anybody comes here. If you’re looking for a nice stroll through the woods that ends at a nice view, this is not the park for you.
On the other hand, if you’re willing to spend all day digging through mud in cold, murky water in search of something far more valuable than just an experience, you’ve come to the right place.
The best part about Crater of Diamonds? You get to keep 100% of anything you find, be it a clump of mud, a cool looking rock, or, if you’re lucky, that little tiny diamond that’s worth more than your gall bladder. You might be asking just how high your chance of actually finding something is, which is definitely the most logical question to ask before wasting away a day of your life. To my surprise, a diamond or other valuable gemstone is found pretty much every day at the park.
Not only are diamonds pretty common here, but they can also be pretty dang big. Some of the largest diamonds ever found were found right here in little old Arkansas. The largest diamond found at the park was called Uncle Sam, weighed 40.23 carats, and was found in 1924. This was also the largest diamond ever found on American soil. Pretty cool, huh?
So why exactly are there so many diamonds in this specific area of Arkansas? Well, as the name implies, the park is in an old volcano crater. However, this ancient volcano did not create the diamonds but instead carried them from deep within the Earth’s mantle to near the surface. Erosion then exposed this gemstone-rich soil, allowing people like Kes and I to find them with nothing more than our bare hands.
With all that being said, I was pretty much shaking with excitement the entire drive down to the park. I wondered what it would feel like to actually discover a diamond? What would I do with a diamond if I found one? Would a diamond be more valuable on Kes’s finger or as cold hard cash in my pocket? All of these questions raced through my mind as we got closer and closer to what I felt was my destiny.
Finding a diamond was definitely exciting to think about, but really I should’ve been asking myself much more practical questions. How do I know what dirt contains diamonds and what dirt doesn’t? How do I use a sieve? What does a diamond even look like? All of these questions came crashing down on me the instant I entered the crater and I realized I didn’t know the first thing about diamond hunting. Luckily we were in a park chock full of information made for people just like me.
The first step was to rent whatever equipment we needed. Luckily we had brought in two shovels and two buckets, so all we were left needing was two mesh sieves. From there we needed to actually collect pay dirt into the buckets and drag them to one of the covered pavilions. These covered pavilions each had several large metal troughs at about waist height that were filled with chocolate milk looking water.
This park doesn’t look much different than a plowed field ready for planting. Park officials plow the dirt every couple days to bring new diamonds to the surface.
The tools you need to find diamonds are pretty simple - just a shovel, bucket, and sieve.
I didn’t expect these dirty watering holes to be the center of my universe for the next six hours.
Little did I know that the hard work in diamond mining was not in the shoveling, but instead was in the actual sifting for diamonds. Of course, this part took place at the water troughs. Once we had secured our spot alongside one of these troughs the next step was to fill our 12” x 12” mesh sieves with as much dirt as they could fit. Placing the sieve under the water, we could then break the dirt down and be left with whatever rocks couldn’t fit through the mesh.
From there all that was left to be done was shake the sieve in a particular fashion as to sort the denser rocks towards the middle and everything else towards the edges. If all was done correctly we’d be left with a small pile of white looking rocks, mostly quartz, among which a diamond might be hiding. Sound easy? Well it most certainly was not.
Each sifting took about 10 to 15 minutes, and each bucket had enough dirt to fill about a dozen sieves. By the end of the day Kes and I had only sorted through four buckets of dirt, total. After hours hunched over a trough and feeling our way through freezing water we had little more to show for our work than a few cool looking rocks. Well, that and the experience itself, I guess.
All joking aside, I actually really enjoyed spending the day digging for nothing at Crater of Diamonds. There was something really cool about being in a place that valued educating visitors more than just simply gaining profits. I know that someday I’ll return to this park, and maybe then I’ll find a diamond to call my own.
That night we awoke to the sound of thunder and pouring rain. Sticking my head out of the Teardrop, I watched as huge clouds flashed with light like giant flickering light bulbs. Even more curious, only the occasional lightning bolt managed to escape the clouds and actually strike the Earth. I think they have a name for this phenomenon in the East, but coming from New Mexico I had never really seen anything like it.
I was mesmerized by the show in the sky until I looked down at the lake and realized that there were bigger problems at hand. The Teardrop was maybe only six inches higher than the surface of the lake, and even in the moonlight I could tell the water had already inched closer to camp. Realizing we had chosen a pretty lousy place to camp in the middle of a storm and in the dead of night is not exactly what I’d call a best case scenario.
After some discussion I reasoned that, even if the waters did rise six inches, that wouldn’t actually be a major problem for us. The worst that could happen is we wake up in the morning to a couple inches of water, wade to the Jeep, and tow everything to higher ground. Maybe this wasn’t the best plan, but I was willing to risk it in order to get another hour of sleep.
When we woke up in the morning the rain had done anything but slowed down. I crossed my fingers as I looked out of the window, and let out a sigh of relief when I saw that the lake had decided to keep to itself for the time being. That being said, the edge of the lake had definitely drawn nearer and was now probably only 30 feet away, compared to 50 feet a day earlier.
Can you tell how much closer the water has gotten compared to the first picture of camp?
Again the question came up as to whether or not we should move the Teardrop, and again I reasoned that if the Teardrop had survived the night, then surely it could survive the day. Besides, we were going to Hot Springs National Park today and I didn’t want to get there one second later than I had to. Did that have anything to do with my decision? Of course not.
Hot Springs National Park
Hot Springs, Arkansas
By Sam
Hot Springs is a strange park. Located right in the middle of the city of Hot Springs, this park protects several historic bathhouses and a good chunk of the surrounding area. While not the first official national park, the springs were designated a reservation in 1832 by President Andrew Jackson, predating Yellowstone National Park (the first national park) by about 40 years.
Entering Hot Springs, there weren’t any clear indicators that this area was particularly special. The city was obviously old and had a great deal of southern charm, but that in itself does not necessitate a national park designation. There were also many natural areas intertwined throughout the city, which were really cool to see, but again these do not require broader protections. So where exactly were the springs?
As it turns out they were hiding right under our feet, being piped to different areas throughout the park. Much of the water was being directed towards the bathhouses, but aside from that the springs also fed several water filling stations, water fountains, and other man made display features. To my surprise the water was going pretty much everywhere but their natural openings.
These springs look natural, but were in fact created by the CCC nearly 100 years ago for decoration.
Can you imagine living in a place with so much hot water that you can use it for frivolous things like this water fountain?
I knew that the only way to actually take a dip in the spring water was by going to one of the bathhouses, but learning that there were virtually no natural springs at all? I’m not going to lie, that one hit me in a sore spot that I didn’t know I had. As sad as I was that men had subjected these natural wonders to their will, I was still curious as to how exactly the water was controlled. The answer: little green boxes. Each of the natural springs were enclosed by these mysterious metal boxes in 1901 to “protect the thermal water and retain heat”, according to the National Park Service.
Maybe it’s just the hippie inside of me, but the feeling I had looking at these boxes was like looking at an innocent man behind bars.
Our first stop of the day was to one of these strange water filling stations I had heard so much about. As simple as it sounds, I just couldn’t wrap my head around why a water fountain was so special. I had to investigate it myself.
Pulling up, this water filling station looked, well, pretty utilitarian. Just a big slab of concrete, a couple spouts that looked as if they were made from spare parts the plumber had lying around, and some big green buttons to top it all off. Little did I know that hiding under this ugly façade was the most delicious water I have ever tasted.
I mean really, how would you expect water from this to taste?
The first sip I took was just the primer. The second sip, that was the life changer. I never knew that water could have a rainbow of flavors like this water had. Crisp, but not enough to distract you from what came next. A slight tang, just enough to remind you your tongue existed, followed by a sweetness that still sticks with me today. In a word, refreshing.
Before I had even stuck a toe into the healing waters of Hot Springs, I was sold. Whatever was happening beneath my feet in order to produce this magical elixir was just that - magic. Maybe it was the fact that the water I was drinking had first fallen while the Great Pyramids were being built. Maybe it was just a big hoax, and whatever I had just drank was something being manufactured by Santa Claus and sold only to those he deemed worthy.
Whatever the answer, I packed as much of that water into the Jeep as I could carry. It became my only source of drinking water until I ran out of it all the way in West Virginia. Oh, how I miss that water.
There were several water filling stations around the city, all free. This one dispensed water at about 105 degrees. Unfortunately, this water only tasted good while it was hot.
Me and that water would go a lot of places together, but for now our next stop was the Quapaw Bathhouse. Lucky for us, we pulled up just as the front doors were opening.
The Quapaw Bathhouse is one of eight bathhouses on bathhouse row. Each is elegant in its own right, and, while in the past I’m sure all of these bathhouses served as their name implied, now only two of these bathhouses are still in operation. The rest are maintained by the Park Service and serve other functions, such as a gift shop, restaurant, or visitor center.
I have never seen a series of buildings with as much charm as these. Just looking at them makes me want to take a nice hot bath.
After waiting a couple minutes in line we were ushered to the men’s and women’s changing rooms, respectively. I quickly changed into my swimming suit and exited through the other end of the changing room. There I was welcomed by four large pools, each held at different temperatures.
These bathhouses have stayed popular since their establishment. I find it fascinating that people throughout time have felt a connection to hot springs, no matter their shape or form.
Soaking in the hot pools, I tried to take my mind off of the incessant rain that had not let up since we first left the Teardrop. Ever since the Teardrop left my view I regretted not moving her further from the lake. What if she had slowly rolled into the water? What if the water had risen so much that it cut off our access route to camp? These questions had been in the back of my mind all day, and now that I was finally in the springs it was time to take my mind off of them completely.
This is the kind of rain we had been dealing with all morning. This was the day I realized that wet jeans are pretty much the worst thing in the world.
We soaked in the bathhouse for as long as we could endure, plus some (to make sure we got our money’s worth) before finally leaving. I definitely felt more relaxed and much more clean, but little did I know that these healing waters worked in much stranger ways than that. As I walked out of the bathhouse I realized that not only had my mind cleared, but so had the skies above. I don’t think I’d ever felt so happy to see the sun again.
We still look wet in this picture but that’s just from the springs, not from the sky.
Our time in Hot Springs had drawn to a close, and as we drove the winding roads back home I felt as though I had captured a unique view into America’s past. Hot Springs was that place where the idea of preservation had first been born, although that concept looked a lot different back then compared to now. Preservation in the 1800’s and 1900’s meant ensuring these resources could continue to be used for the purpose of men.
Compare that to now, where we are finally beginning to understand the value of places and resources not in terms of human development, but in terms of the Earth as a whole. Something worth saving doesn’t necessarily need to have economic value, like lumber or water or even beauty. Natural places are finite resources worth saving, and although that seems like common sense now, the reasoning behind it has been a long fought battle, starting with places like Hot Springs.
These thoughts helped keep my mind off of the Teardrop, but as we got closer all I could do is hope that she was where we left her, nice and dry about 30 feet away from the water’s edge. As we rounded the corner I breathed a sigh of relief. The Teardrop hadn’t slid into the water or been overcome with water. She was dry, but even so the water had still come about 10 feet closer to the edge of camp.
I wasn’t about to make the same mistake for a third time because, even though it had stopped raining, the lake would continue to rise over the next couple days. It was time to move the Teardrop to higher ground.
The next morning I checked the water level compared to where we were previously camped. Had we stayed where we were, I would’ve been wading in water on my way to my morning bathroom break. I took a moment to thank Mother Nature for giving me three chances and vowed never to ignore my gut feeling again.
After laughing about our luck with Kes, we packed up and hit the road once again. Today we were heading to Missouri, the final state in our circuit around the Midwest.
Gateway Arch National Park
St. Louis, Missouri
by Kes
By the time we crossed into Missouri, I finally accomplished one of my secret Gap Year goals.
I got Sam hooked on an audiobook. I know, crazy, right? But hear me out. Ever since I was a busy college kid, I’ve been listening to audiobooks. Dune, The Host, Percy Jackson, all of which I got to read while my hands were busy. Well, color me surprised when I hear that Sam doesn’t even like the idea of an audiobook! That’s when I quietly made the decision to strike when the time was right.
At his most bored and vulnerable, I talked Sam into the idea of listening to a book I recently finished: Ready Player One. This wacky coming of age story, stuffed to the brim with obscure 80’s references and epic video game mysteries, is read by Wil Wheaton and delivered quite sarcastically. I’m not sure what it was, but that story sunk its teeth deep into Sam and wouldn’t let him go.
To my great surprise, we actually hiked while listening to Ready Player One. Sam was hellbent on solving the mystery, and our pace quickened as the story grew more intense. We shared laughs at awkward moments and paused to discuss theories. Before I knew it, we hiked four miles in under an hour and a half.
Happy that my plan finally worked, all I had left to do was sit back, relax, and listen to this dang book every chance we get.
Soon enough, we were on the road again. Our next national park on the list was an odd one: Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Missouri. If I’m being honest, I was very skeptical of this park at first. After visiting the Southwest, there was a part of me that had no idea why this manmade structure shared the same status as Death Valley.
If Sam and I ever start a band, this will be our first album cover.
After riding the mildly claustrophobic elevator to the tippy top of the arch, I couldn’t shake this feeling. Of course, the engineering is insane and I admire the sheer force of will that built this structure. But I still didn’t understand why they built something like this. Was this St. Louis’s version of the Space Needle? Or was there more to this national park than it seemed?
Turns out the museum at the bottom of the Arch had all the answers I was looking for.
I love how difficult it is to get a good selfie at the top of the arch. It forces you to enjoy the moment a lot more. That being said, we had to get at least one!
Whatcha lookin' for, Sam?
The Gateway Arch was founded by the National Parks service in 1935 to celebrate the Louisiana Purchase of 1803. If you don’t feel like remembering middle school history, it’s okay, I’ll give you the short version of why that was important. The Louisiana Purchase allowed for the young United States to double the land area within its borders while setting the stage for Westward Expansion. American settlers eventually saw this expansion to the Pacific Coast as America’s Manifest Destiny, or divine right.
That’s what we were taught in school. Progress and growth. Yet, when I walked around that museum underneath the Gateway Arch, I learned about an entirely different way of looking at this chapter of American history.
The Native American tribes that lived throughout colonist territories were never given a voice when the Louisiana Purchase changed hands. Instead, Plains Tribes watched as parades of settlers marched across their hunting grounds, a trail of trash littered behind them. Anti-Indian propaganda painted Natives as savages who sought to take everything from the colonists. Buffalo were slaughtered for the sole purpose of starving the tribes that depended on them.
With little warning, lands that Native tribes had lived in for thousands of years changed in a matter of decades. Treaties were made and broken just as quickly. Because these tribes were largely left out of the conversation, they had no way of stopping the degradation and colonization of their lands.
Soon enough, many tribes were flat out forced to leave their homes. When Andrew Jackson signed the Indian Removal Act of 1830, he forced thousands of Cherokee, Choctaw, Seminole, and other tribes to walk 1,200 miles from Georgia to Oklahoma. One cannot overstate the suffering that was endured during this Trail of Tears.
Native American history is deeply intertwined with our own. During my time in public schools, I rarely paid attention to history class - you can only learn about so many different wars until they all blur together. But I know that the relationship our American government had with Native tribes was never explained. Most of what I know now was learned on the road throughout this trip, and I find that tragic. How can we begin to make up for our forefathers’ actions when we aren’t even aware of their wrongdoings?
I am a firm believer that knowledge is power. In this case, the acknowledgment of injustice is the first step towards true change. I, for one, look forward to a future where we work together with our fellow Americans to solve problems we both face: climate change, food insecurity, poverty. One of the reasons why I love traveling so much is because it grants me the opportunity to learn about the lesser known history of my country, no matter how harsh it may be. North America is a very special place, and every story is worth sharing, especially those of our Native neighbors.
Now, with all that learning out of the way, how about we have some fun?
The hustle and bustle of St. Louis felt more like a low hum. The only people on the streets underneath the overcast sky were construction workers and a few errant businessmen. Our next destination was a decent 30 minute walk away from the Gateway Arch. Perfect. Without hesitation, Sam and I grabbed the headphones and started the next chapter in Ready Player One.
That, my friend, is how you magically turn 30 minutes into five minutes.
If you see us walking in the streets, there's a small chance you'll catch us with headphones on listening to our latest obsession.
St. Louis City Museum is a weird place. Caught somewhere between an adult playground and art museum, the City Museum reminded me of our visit to Meow Wolf all the way back in Week 2.
Where Meow Wolf is an adventure for the mind, City Park is an experience for your body. Specifically the knees, in my experience. Secret passageways snaked throughout the warehouse, and a few entrances barely rose to half my height. Tunnels in crystal filled caves branched out to rooms reminiscent of the ocean, whales and all. Sure, children giggled gleefully as they poked their heads out of peculiar places, but the adults were having just as much fun doing the same.
Sam and I were eager to join in on the excitement, but we weren’t sure where to start. It’s not like they made a map of this colorful labyrinth. Only slightly overwhelmed, we finally decided to do what we do best: wander.
I love how Sam looks so excited, yet unprepared for what we're about to do.
A lot of my memory from our time here feels like a fever dream.
Sometimes we squoze through holes that I was convinced were overlooked maintenance passageways.
Sam looks like he's being pooped out of this tiny opening. Just don't ask where we came from.
The more adventurous we got, the more poofy my hair got.
Why hello there.
That blur is my frightened body after sliding down this 7-story corkscrew slide.
I tried to remind myself to not look down, but that clearly didn't work.
We gave our knees a break and hung out in the pinball arcade.
With a slushy in hand and competition in the air, I really couldn't ask for a better time.
I have absolutely no idea how they managed to add not one, but two planes to their maniacal playground.
I think this photo that Sam took is one of my favorites.
Don't look down, don't look down . . .
Thankfully no one was there to watch Sam and I play fighter pilot.
Happy, happy, happy.
Needless to say, I hurt after crawling through so many metal tubes. Leave it to this place to make my 23-year-old body feel old and achy. Despite the pain, Sam and I left the City Museum with grins plastered onto our faces. Even the traffic out of St. Louis wasn’t enough to rattle our good moods.
Today was such a fantastic day.
We left Missouri early the next morning. Our next stop was an eight hour drive away. This would be the longest amount of time we spent driving since we left Texas, and we were excited. There’s something exciting about pushing through discomfort in order to sleep in a place far different than the one you woke up in.
A few notable moments from that drive include: driving through Kentucky for the third time this year, dealing with the IRS, and, most importantly, we finished Ready Player One! When the credits started to roll, I had to take a moment to appreciate more than just finishing a silly audiobook.
Once again, we found ourselves far, far from home. It’s been seven months of blood, sweat, tears, and too few showers. Yet there we were, confident in so many more ways than when we started this crazy trip. Between September and April we drove 26,000 miles, visited 28 national parks, and traveled through 28 states. As I write this, I’m amazed at how easily these statistics are lost on me, even when I’m the one living them.
That night, we pulled into the last campsite at the end of a long dirt road. The darkness underneath the new moon was too thick to see anything without a flashlight. When I turned mine on, the light immediately bounced off a thick mite scurrying across the leafy dirt. I yelped and I’m sure the little guy did the same. That fright was all I needed to kick my tail into gear and set the Teardrop up as quickly as possible. In no time, Sam and I jumped into bed and fell fast asleep.
That morning, we woke up in America’s newest national park.
Can you guess which one it is?
Bonus!
During our museum visit underneath the Gateway Arch, I learned that St. Louis is actually built on top of an old Native American city from almost 1,000 years ago! This city was named Cahokia, and I desperately wanted to visit one of its few remaining sites when we left Missouri. Unfortunately, we didn't have time and decided against a visit.
Thankfully, the night before posting this, Sam and I were eating dinner when we listened to an episode by National Geographic about this very city! Naturally, I'm adding the link in case you, too, love to learn about America's history. You can listen to it here.
Enjoy!
HOUSEKEEPING
Hi friend,
If you’re new to my page, welcome!
If not, then it’s really nice to see you again :)`
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Without further ado, I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day.
Best,
Kes the Photobean
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