Weathered travelers by now we pressed on through Tennessee and the winding roads of Arkansas. Eureka Springs is a popular little mountain town containing one big attraction about the story of Jesus under the open skies and a huge concrete cross. Many locals star in a nightly play during the summer months.
Tim was one of them. He was a friend from back home that we found in the center park drawing caricatures of passer-bys. A tall thin mushroom shaped head of hair, Tim was very happy to see us and after several days alone on the road so were we. He told us where we could camp for the night and we went off down the twisty roads of Eureka Springs.
Our pup tent set up and the light waning, we started dinner of hot dogs and buns on the fireplace. Noticing two young ladies two sites down from us, we asked them to join us for dinner. We talked for hours until after dark. They were taking a vacation from Columbia Missouri for the weekend and we spoke of a summer of fun.
I don't know how it happened, but someone mentioned skinny dipping. Next thing I knew we were all running down to the pier stark naked and jumping into the cool mountain water. These Missouri women were teaching us Florida guys how to commune with nature and enjoy it!
The next day we went into town and picked up some supplies at the local co-op. Our search for Tim led us to the "Rat Shack". Five feet from the road with a back door 100 feet off the ground, the Rat Shack was perched on a cliff and filled with smoke, drink and darkness.
After a while we decided to leave and I discovered my wallet missing. "Alright, I'm tearing this place apart until I find my wallet and ALL of my money!", I boomed to the sleepy occupants. People stirred and started helping to search. A blond haired girl finally came up with it. Funny, she had given me an unexpected embrace earlier. "You's better get out before my boyfriend gets here. He's very jealous", she said. I had learned my lesson about this place and was happy to oblige. She thought she was sneaky, but ended up nothing but trouble.
We toured the city and finally found Tim at an outdoor amphitheater. He was a crowd person dressed in robes, sandals and something for sale or barter. Almost every local had at least a small time role in the story of Jesus. "A cast of thousands" as I remembered my High School teacher describing the famous movie Ben-Hur.
He told us "Come to the Quiet Night, a bar under the street, tonight". I know the band and they-re great".
Chuck and I walked the nature trail up to a lookout stop and relaxed against a giant granite boulder while soaking up the view of far western Appalachian mountains at sunset. We munched out on dried fruits purchased earlier at the co-op and dozed off thinking about the girls from Missouri last night.
Darkness awoke us and we headed into town to the bar under the street. Our directions consisted of "Take the main road, the high one not the low one, past the park, and just where it makes a sharp turn, the brick building on the right will have a staircase going downstairs from the street". No problem.
Eureka springs was such a small town that it could be walked from one end to the other in five minutes flat. We followed the music down under the street and paid our five bucks, for the band they told us.
We spied Tim along with a whole table full of folks who all turned around and motioned us to join them. We shook hands and exchanged names while a pretty young lady asked if we wanted anything to drink. "Three pitchers of Coors!" I ordered and was instantly best buddies with the whole table, if not the better half of the bar.
The band started up and roused the crowd quickly into a cheer. They played a strange mixture of folk, rock, blues, and country. That night as the beer and music engulfed me I realized how much of the world I had yet to experience. I had met artists, actors, vegetarians and veterans.
People talked openly about sexuality and sensibility. No one even owned underwear. Happily living on a shoestring their most prized possessions were their friends.
The band quit about 1:30am and Tim said they were all heading to the cave. Intrigued and quite intoxicated, Chuck and I followed them outside of town and down a long winding road up into the mountains by the lakes. They all parked behind small hill covered with oak trees and started walking down a small jeep trail. Not wanting to loose my only means of transportation, I dumped Chuck and putted along the trail on my bike. As we crossed the last turn of the trail, the entire lake opened up to us in the moonlight. The cave was really a fourty-foot indentation into the cliff that overlooked the valley of water. We started a fire and talked for hours until everyone slowly dropped off to sleep, one by one.
Morning sun came up from behind the mountain affording a late awakening, which was good considering the wee hours we had spent up the previous night. Only six people remained from what seemed like twenty earlier. One of the girls volunteered to cook breakfast if I would provide transportation.
Hopping on the back of my bike, we found a local general store and picked up a dozen fresh eggs, onion, and half a gallon of milk. As we checked out I snagged a loaf of freshly baked bread, unsliced of course. With a toothless grin and a handful of change the cashier said "Thanks!" Funny how friendly folks are up in the mountains, I thought.
Back at the cave we had scrambled veggie omelet sandwiches and clove tea. Chuck went off fishing while the others prepared to go over to the Play for another rehearsal and opening night's actions.
I had rambling on my mind and told Chuck so. He knew before we started our trip that I was planning on going out west, alone. I shook hands with everyone and thanked them for their hospitality and warmth. Promising to top by on the way back, I revved up ole faithful and took off on my own. A nomad cruising the long black ribbon that led to parts unknown and friends yet to be.
Next Stop: Missouri
Previous Stop: Georgia