If you ever hear it suggested that Ozarkansas is among the top destinations for vivid fall foliage, don’t believe it. Any such claim is either local pride (which is understandable) or tourism hype (hey, it’s a living). Truth is, our mountainsides simply don’t have the abundance of maple, aspen, birch or larch (among other species) required for a stunning autumn display.
Discriminating leaf-peepers should head to New England, the mid-Appalachians, the northern Rockies or somewhere else in the northern tier. Coming to Ozarkansas in October and expecting Vermont-grade color is a ticket to disappointment.
Now, with that out of the way, I can testify that autumn here is absolutely wonderful. Green slopes ease gradually to gold and rich bronze. The fall-foliage season lasts a long time, and temperatures are much more pleasant than you’ll find in the North.
The hospitality (overall) is a damned sight better, too. Trust me on that.
I once said that the beauty of our region’s landscape is soft but accessible — compared to, say, northwest Montana, where it’s undeniably grander but far more difficult to reach. I think the same can be said of Ozarkansas in the fall.
What we lack in Technicolor, we make up for in the ability to be in the scene, rather than merely gazing on it from afar.
If that sort of thing appeals to you, y’all come.
By Thursday evening, if all goes well, the cabin itself will be on the grid. The breaker panel will be in, connected permanently to the power pole, and we’ll have one or two outlets inside. That’ll replace the heavy-duty extension cords we’ve used for the last year to run lights, power tools, fridge and freezer.
Deb, through one of her co-workers, found an electrician who’s willing to work with us. He’ll make the mains connection, leaving us to pull wire and install outlets and fixtures.
And he lives just the other side of Hall Mountain.
Plumbing work will begin soon. We still need to pick up a shower pan, a toilet, and other stuff.
Another housekeeping matter, Mercy’s wobble, appears to be on its way to being fixed. A couple of our neighbors learned of the problem and offered to help. Both have Wranglers, both do their own wrenching, and one has a two-post hydraulic lift in his garage.
Parts arrived today. We’re looking at next week for repair work.
Incidentally, we dropped our Jeep off at the neighbor’s on our way to do laundry a couple of days ago, so the guys could take a look at what needed to be done. They didn’t “fix” anything that day, but they tightened up a few things that were loose.
Deb reports that the wobble is gone. She knows that’s only temporary, of course. Repairs still must be (and will be) made.
Communication is Life. That’s true in business, in relationships, in all manner of interaction with others. And it’ll be true when (not if) the shit hits the fan.
So when friends of ours invited me to attend a small gathering of folks interested in starting a comms group, I (cautiously) accepted. We met at Crooked Creek Pub, where a well-known local fella reviewed the ins and outs of GMRS.
It was a good get-together, I thought, and those in attendance were keenly and sincerely interested in learning. Phone numbers were exchanged. Radios were loaned out.
We’ll see where it goes from here.
Deb came down to the Pub after work, and we had beers and a great dinner. It turned out to be a very enjoyable and essentially productive afternoon.
Take care of yourselves, Patriots. Stay calm. Stay sharp. Stay free.
#WiseUp #LibertyOrDeath #Ungovernable
#LetsGoBrandon #FJB