day 4 -- mt carmel to lake pointsett, AR

I didn't really do the economy inn express (and its proprietor) in mt carmel justice. the initial first night's destination was somewhere to camp in the shawnee state forest (illinois), but a late start meant that I didn't get anywhere close. and as I was starting to press dusk I stopped in the first sizeable town for miles. (I've promised myself not to ride at night for this trip, though I violated every other safe-riding prohibition already on the trip to ontario. in this case riding at night is pointless since the idea is to see places, naturally). on the outskirts of town was an old school wooden billboard tucked into some trees...but with modern info on wifi and the motel's convenience to 'downtown' eateries. I was sold...I mean, what small town has any but out-by-the-interstate chain motels anymore, and who'd think to advertise his property's proximity to 'la tierra mexican-american?' so it was indeed right on main st squarely between the quirky downtown and still-close taco joints. but the building...not quite as promising. long low brick structure that looked like a company-town dormitory, but I figured out later that this was purpose-built for a long-dead motel chain -- there was another one somewhere in arkansas. a less good sign was the assortment of mismatched curtains, the hall carpet laid down but not trimmed, gutted rooms, and so on. but for $35, whatever. the very friendly proprietor balked at the discover card which he hadn't seen in 3 1/2 years (not too popular with his clientele, apparently) and couldn't get a mastercard to work either, but suggested that I come back later to try again. I didn't get to chat with him much then, but he was out all morning as I went for a jog around mt carmel and loaded luggage...tuesday was dumpster day and his was piled high with a week's worth of plastic bags that he was trying to corral. his young family was rummaging around the motel backyard and bouncing on a sagging trampoline. we still had to wrangle a credit card transaction, so he started talking about his motel experience. he was quick to shake his head at the migrant workers who made up the bulk of his summer business -- he claimed that men working on the power plant stay with him often also, but it seems more likely that duke would put its workers up at the super8. he was suspicious that many who claimed no habla ingles actually could do so and wondered at their supposed resistance to provide US identification. there was nothing bitter or nasty, but certainly the perspective of an immigrant who came to the states for college looking at more conspicuously economic migrants. and of course his evident attempts to assimilate, not least of all the decision to settle down in an isolated illinois small town surely far from many other indians.

and more on the theme of the rural downstate. I know that the vast vast majority of the planet's surface is uninhabited, and I know that the USA is much less crowded than other places, but the visceral reality of open land never really strikes me until I'm out in it. it's as if I forget the emptiness as soon as I leave it...there's something intimidating about it to humans in general. even those who write encomia to the great plains tend to retreat eventually to somewhere more peopled and write of sometimes oppressive open spaces. no doubt that it exerts a strong pull, but it's not the default human experience. we've always named places and populated them with mythic tales...and truly unknown places are pushed off the edge of the map and safely out of mind. anyway...this is a damn big country, which is easy to miss even on the interstate. tuesday morning started out in melon country in the wabash drainage but quickly climbed into the river hills around which the ohio makes a sharp southward detour. this is a land of state forest and the illinois department of corrections...a gleaming new jail over every ridge.

then back into the mississippi bottom on the way to the high modern suspension bridge into cape girardeau, missouri. by this point a 5pm deadline in jonesboro was looming, so missouri was mostly for driving through. time for a roadside watermelon stop and break from the blinding concrete-slab highway heat. the all leather gear I'm wearing of course prompt incessant 'aren't you hot?' comments, but actually it's not bad as long as I'm moving. except on concrete, which reflects the sunlight a tad more efficiently. along the way I discovered that armadilloes are native to missouri (roadkill) and that it's nitrogen-fertilizing season by the overpowering odor of piss-soaked fields -- wash your tomatoes!

as always I hadn't really charted the mileage and time required for the trip, relying just on gut estimation and my now extensive knowledge of the american bottom. rolled through paragould, arkansas and the busiest mcdonald's in america and then the non-scenic route into jonesboro with twenty minutes to spare. a couple of beers in a lame downtown jonesboro bar with some fratboys and folks in from the countryside and then back on the road for a piece to reach lake pointsett state park outside of harrisburg, arkansas. found a spot in a 105 degree weekday-emptied campground right next to a scenic little lake. had enough time to set up the tent before dark, but not nearly enough to cool off. sunset did nothing to cool the air, and even after a lukecool shower sweat was pouring off me, pooling in the ridges on my sleeping mat and leaving puddles that were still there in the morning. and skeeters. I thought I was careful about zipping and unzipping the tent, but not enough. I heard the mosquito whine and thought initially that they were buzzing outside the mesh, but when I switched on the headlamp there was a veritable cloud around my head...luckily they risked drowning if they'd attacked me then, so I had a reprieve long enough to dispose of most of them. then settled into fitful first-night-camping sleep in the loud hum of cicadas and others and an occasional owl.