In the Pines: Part 1

I heard this stereotyping of people, places and culture again when I moved from Tulsa to West Virginia. Lots and lots of teeth jokes. Perhaps more than I heard when we moved from Illinois to Arkansas. So, I knew they were entirely wrong and unhelpful when it came to pondering what I would encounter in West Virginia.


For me, West Virginia and Arkansas shared many similarities, including the stereotypical ideas others have of the people in those states. They both have a lot of hills and woods. Arkansas also has some flat land that is not valley land because of the Mississippi River. But, the part I knew and loved was hilly and rocky, like West Virginia.

 I had been living in a flat, green place—Tulsa—that was drier and hotter than Arkansas. Oklahoma does have some hills in the south and as you get closer to Arkansas and rolling grasslands even on its eastern side. Beautiful country. Driving back Arkansas from Oklahoma is a beautiful drive on 412 made easy by the Cherokee Turnpike. As you get closer to Siloam Springs, it gets a little hilly and then flattens into ranches until you get to Springdale and highway 71. 71 took me to Rogers and highway 62.

 This was when I got excited. The moment you get out of Rogers, past their little airport with a museum and a giant plane banking but attached to the ground, you start to get into the hills. I would roll down my windows and immediately the breeze was cooler and sweeter. It was an escape from the warmth of Tulsa and the concrete of the Springdale, Rogers, Bentonville area. As 62 twists and turns and dips and rises, past small towns like Gateway, Garfield, and the Pea Ridge Civil War park, I felt like I was home. The tension left my body and driving became fun.


Traffic was generally better too, unless some visitor was slowly making their way to Eureka for a weekend visit. There were only two places to pass, unless you were suicidal, so you had to have luck and timing. Tourists never did the nice thing and pulled over for you to get by. But, I had my landmarks of passage that meant I was close to the empty road, 187, which would take me home to my parent’s house.


When we moved to Arkansas 62 was snakier. They cut a pass through a hills and cut out 5 U curves and about 30 mins of time. They had to blast through the rock and my parents would talk about hearing and feeling those blasts. When I got to the pass, we affectionately called ‘Howard’s pass’ (after a neighbor), I knew I would be home in 20 mins more or less. And that soon, I would be turning off of 62 to 187.


That turn to 187 was my favorite. I have always wanted to live off that road. Houses sit back in the hills off their gravel and dirt lane road, and one of the farms has a bunch of goats that you get to see when you drive around a huge wall of rock and there they are. I am a fan of goats. Beaver is the next town and one I like a lot. It has about 95 people, a post office, and a store. They have a one lane bridge they made historical so the government wouldn’t ruin it and make it an ugly, tourist letting in two lane bridge.



I had spent much time on the river that the bridge spans, high on rocks above it, with the trees leaning over me, thinking. It is a special place for me. It was clear I was almost at my parent’s door.


Driving those roads at night is not as fun. The turns are demanding even in the day and I found this to be true of the best places in West Virginia too. It is the nature of living in the hills I think. They demand time and attention, even when not driving through them. They can be best friends when Iwake up to their beauty or hike through them and get my excercise. And they can be dangerous. Deer jump out in front of you. Bears, bobcats, snakes, and cougars live in them. I even got stuck in them when a winter storm makes the roads impassable and the trees fall in the paths from the heavy ice.


But, they are worth keeping as they are and I learned from good West Virginians fighting to keep their hills intact, that lesson. target is nice, but the wildflowers are too and much more fragil and a concrete target that levels a hill.


I mourn those 5 U curves in Arkansas cut off from their road and those one lane bridges. Everytime I pass those curves I can no longer take, I want to turn and follow them despite the gate in front of them. But, I don't even stop the car and get out and walk them in my hurry to get to my destination. So, I miss out on those views I have seen them give of the valley below.