Independence Day in Ozarkansas would be one of our hottest days yet, if not the hottest. We wouldn’t be doing any work around the homestead today — it just wasn’t worth the risk. Instead, we left Scout and Smudge in the air-conditioned camper, got into my air-conditioned truck, and headed east toward Mountain Home.
The long way.
Deb bought me shirts at Tractor Supply. We hit a couple of pawn shops, just for fun. Turning back in the direction of The Mountain, again taking the scenic route, we passed a few billboards for Gaston’s White River Resort in Lakeview.
Anyone who lives ’round here can tell you that those billboards are everywhere. They don’t reach a Rock City or Ruby Falls level of annoyance, but along the US 62 corridor they seem to pop up around every other curve in the road.
Gaston’s is an old-school trout-fishing resort, founded in 1958. Still family-owned, it’s earned quite the reputation. Today the operation boasts 400 acres, 79 cottages, 70 boats.
Oh, and it has its own 3,200-foot airstrip.
Though Deb and I weren’t interested in visiting as overnight guests, we’d heard great things about Gaston’s waterfront restaurant. We decided to make that our destination for a late lunch.
We didn’t have reservations, but the friendly hostess accommodated us, and we were led to a corner table on the water. The entire wall was glass, showcasing the resort’s frontage on The Mighty White. Hundreds of vintage bicycles and outboard motors hung from the high ceiling.
It’s been years since we last dined at a place with cloth covering our table, cloth napkins and weighty silverware. Far from snooty or fancy, however, the Gaston’s atmosphere was warm, welcoming.
Naturally, trout was on the menu. Deb and I are Burger People, though, and both of us chose the signature Gaston’s Burger — a half-pound of an Angus brisket-chuck blend topped with crisp bacon, sliced avocado, battered onion rings, and melted cheddar cheese on a toasted bun. Each was served with a pile of crispy fries, more than either of us could finish.
The drinks deserve special mention — Deb had a regular Bloody Mary (with vodka), while I ordered mine Kentucky-style, with Knob Creek bourbon. Right up there with the best we’ve ever had.
When you get right down to it, Deb and I are pretty simple people. We live a simple life and appreciate simple pleasures, including humble fare and plain surroundings. It’s safe to say that we’re not inclined toward “fine dining.”
Still, today’s experience at Gaston’s was a special treat, a splurge that didn’t bust our budget. It’s only 30 minutes from The Mountain, and we can’t wait to go back.
“The choice we make today is the same one we must make every day in this American Life. We decide, each of us, whether we ‘love wealth greater than Liberty, the tranquility of servitude greater than the animating contest of freedom.’
Ubi Libertas Blog, from a post published January 6th, 2023
“It’s the difference between subject and citizen.
“We have the great good fortune to be alive at a time foreshadowed in the Declaration of Independence — ‘whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the People to alter or to abolish it.’ We confront the inalterable truth that ‘the tree of Liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of Patriots and tyrants.'”
Deb and I were winding down our evening yesterday when she put a YouTube video on the downstairs TV. The topic was the worst ten states for off-grid living. The presentation wasn’t all that great, but I picked up a couple of common themes.
The first dealbreaker was cost of living. You can imagine who made the list — Hawaii, Connecticut, Florida, ‘Jersey and, of course, the People’s Republic of California. What makes those states prohibitively expensive is high taxes, for the most part, as well as fees required by law.
What all ten states had in common was an onerous regulatory burden. Like a requirement to be connected to (and pay for) public utilities. (Kinda defeats the whole “off-grid” thing, doesn’t it?) The prohibition of installing solar or wind power. If rain-catchment is permitted, any water collected must be used or dumped within 72 hours. Inexplicable limits on how much land may be planted in food crops for personal use. Bans on drilled or driven wells.
All that, plus labyrinthine building codes and restrictions on development.
Eight of those ten states suffer under progressive political regimes. That shouldn’t come as a surprise.
In the end, no place is perfect for off-gridding, or even rustic living. I know of no state and no county that doesn’t have the odd rule, a head-scratcher of a zoning law, or building codes or permits that make no sense. What does that mean for Americans who choose this life?
I know what you’re thinking — folks must adapt and live within the legal and regulatory framework of their locale. Frankly, that’s an HOA mentality. It’s not the answer.
People who want the freedom of rustic or off-grid living don’t seek permission, nor do they rely on forgiveness. They put themselves in the least conspicuous position possible, maintain a low profile, and do what they want to do.
They disobey.
In short, they’re ungovernable.
That’s very American. Think about it.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB