A Few More Stops

After spending the day driving through the Delta, it was finally time to turn around and start heading back home. But along the way I made a few more stops. Like at this one spot near Clarendon, which had some little silos and water tanks and other assorted farm things lying around.



Off in the distance, a few storm clouds were starting to build over the horizon.



Then I drove by the old Idlewild schoolhouse, which was built in 1921.



And then I drove through the little town of DeVall's Bluff, and had to stop at the old St. Elizabeth's Catholic Church. The church was built in 1912, but was abandoned in 1986 after the church's last parishioner passed away.







I made one last stop - at this old farmhouse that seems to have been abandoned for awhile.



Although it looks like someone is nice enough to be cutting the grass around the house, the building itself has continued to slowly deteriorate and crumble away.







And one last shot, taken before I got back in the car and finally drove home:

Back To The Delta

It had been a few months since I'd driven out to the Delta, so I grabbed the camera and headed back east. I drove through Scott, and then through the little town of Keo. There are a bunch of old gins and other assorted farm buildings scattered through the center of town. I'm not sure how many are still in use, but one did have this old tractor parked outside.



And that same tractor, reflected in a large rain puddle.



Nearby was an old building, which had a bunch of pipes being stored along its side. It looks like that pipe had been there for awhile, probably stuck there and then never used (kinda like that box of old power cables that everyone has stuck in the back of a closet). The only one who has been using that pipe lately appears to be some birds, who have been using it for target practice.



And then I drove through England (the town, not the country), where I always have to stop and get pictures of this old abandoned house:



And then I pulled over again for this old building:



Heading east, you start heading towards the town of Stuttgart. This is an area that is filled with rice fields, and soon you drive by this old building. The paint has faded with age, but you can just barely read "Why Buy Japanese? THEY WON'T BUY OUR RICE." I think this is referring to a time (many decades ago) when Japan did not allow any imports of foreign rice, much to the chagrin of Arkansas rice farmers. I took a picture and then drove off in my car (I hope whoever painted that sign didn't see me, since my car is a Japanese brand).



In Stuttgart, I drove by this old building that was surrounded by a sea of yellow wildflowers.



And then heading further east, I stopped at this field (of soybeans, I think):



And in a nearby building was this old truck, which seems like it's been parked here for awhile (it doesn't look like it was made in Japan).

Still Standing

You can't help but wonder why certain places have been left empty and abandoned. Why did people leave this home behind, why did they shut that door for the last time? When this old house was built, the road nearby must have been a rough dirt road. Over the roads that road was paved, and is now a busy four-lane highway. The roar of traffic echoes against the quiet old house.

Rainy Day in the Delta

It's been your typical Arkansas summer - hot and muggy. There was a miserable spell where the high temperatures were over 100, and the humidity was oppressive. But this week felt like a miracle. It's been cool and rainy, with high temperatures in the 70s.

I didn't want to waste the opportunity, so I took the day off from work and headed out to take pictures as soon as I dropped Elliott off at school. I thought that I could leave early enough where I could go and get a few pictures, and then be back with enough time to take a little nap. But I forgot that I was trying to leave the city during rush hour on a rainy day. Traffic on the freeway was backed up due to a few accidents and it ended up taking about an hour and half to make it out of the traffic jams around Little Rock.

Finally, after spending way too much time in the car, I was able to get out and get a few pictures. I think this is an old cotton gin, now abandoned and surrounded by a moat of tall plants.



I stopped in the small town of England and got a few pictures of this abandoned old house.



It's a neat place, which is being slowly covered with vines and ivy.





From there I headed further east, the vast fields and farms soaking up the rain.





While passing through Stuttgart, I saw this written on the side of an old grain elevator:



South of Stuttgart is an old rice dryer, which is easy to spot because it towers over the flat landscape around it.



It's a neat structure, but I wish I could find out more information on it.







Another old rice dryer sits nearby, also silently rusting away.



There was time for a few stops on the way home, like these silos sitting below some forlorn looking rain clouds.



And one last shot before I headed home to try to salvage some of my nap-time:

New Shots of Old Mill

Jonah was out of school for parent-teacher conferences, so I decided to take the day off from work too. To get out of the house, we made a quick visit over to the Old Mill in North Little Rock. The fall colors weren't really showing there yet, things were mostly green still. So I took the infrared camera instead for a few pictures.



Jonah was the one who decided we should go there, and I was really glad he did. I grew up in North Little Rock, and my grandparents used to live just a few blocks away from the Old Mill. When I was kid, right around Jonah's age, my cousins and I would often all walk over together and visit the Old Mill. It's really nice to see that while there have been some improvements (nicer bathrooms, a little waterfall feature), that the Mill remains mostly unchanged over all these decades.

Road Trip: The Dancing Aspens

One of the coolest things about Colorado are the aspen trees. I wish we could grow them here in Arkansas, I would turn my entire yard into an aspen grove if I could. So while we were in Colorado, it seemed imperative that we try to find the famous and iconic Dancing Aspens.

The Dancing Aspens are a small collection of aspens that are curved and bent so that they appear to be dancing. They are very photogenic, and have become a popular destination for photographers and artists. In order to protect the trees from being overrun with Instagram influencers and vandalizers, many are trying to keep the exact location of the trees a closely-guarded secret. Before our trip I spent a few months researching the trees, trying my best to find out where they are hiding. I found lots of vague hints, and got a general idea of the location.

So when we were in the area, Eric and I tried to find the trees. We thought they were along a certain dirt road, part of which was closed. It was hard to find any details online about where exactly the road was closed, and which section. So we drove as close as we could, parked the car and started walking as the road passed through a grove of aspens.





And after a little bit of walking, we saw them. They were off to the side of the road, just far enough away that they would be easy to miss if you weren't paying attention. We rushed through the tall brush along the roadside and made our way to the trees. They were amazing to see in person.





No one knows why the trees are curved like this. It may have been from "soil creep," or perhaps the trees were hit by an avalanche when they were younger.



The trees actually sit by a large clearing, which is probably because it's a good place for avalanches to tumble down the mountain.





Being here, I can easily see why so many people want to keep the tree's location a secret. The trees still seemed to be pristine. No one had carved their names or initials in them yet. The area around them wasn't trampled down or trashed. There was no graffiti or vandalism. It's sad that places have to be protected from people. But I've seen lots of natural places that have been "loved" to death.



It makes me think of the person who visited the Glory Hole Waterfall in the Ozark Mountains a few years back, one of the more unique and interesting waterfalls in Arkansas. That person decided that this place needed their "artistic" input, and they added hundreds of handprints on the bluff behind the waterfall. Which are still there, years later. That one action has forever altered the scenic beauty of that waterfall. My Father-in-Law likes to tell people to "Leave It Better Than You Found It." I wish more people would take his advice, and keep natural spots natural.

Desha County

Whenver I'm in this part of the state I can't help bit think about my grandmother (who us grandkids called Memaw). She grew up in the Delta, in the small town of Watson in Desha County. It must not have been an easy time to grow up. She would have been around 11 when the Great Flood of 1927 occurred. Watson sat just a few miles away from both the Arkansas and Mississippi Rivers, and Watson was flooded for over a month. They lived in a 2-story house, and had to live on the top floor while the rest of the house was under water. According to family legend, they even took in another family who floated by the house on driftwood.

Because the flood damage was so bad, Memaw was sent to North Little Rock so she could attend school. A few years later, while a high school student in NLR, she met my Papaw and they would get married in 1934. While Papaw was serving with the Navy in World War II (in Okinawa), she returned to Watson and  took a job at the Rohwer Relocation Center. After the war, they moved back to North Little Rock. They had a few kids, and then a few grandkids. When Memaw passed away in 2006, they had been married for 72 years.

This is a photo taken of Memaw, standing outside of the house in Watson. The house is gone now, it burned down sometime after the war. I tried to find the spot where it used to sit, but didn't have any luck.



The land here is flat, and mostly filled with farms and fields. Silos and other farm buildings loom tall over the landscape.









Two of the oldest towns in Arkansas used to be in this part of the Delta. In 1686, Arkansas Post was established by the French. It was the first permanent French settlement along the Mississippi River (older than St. Louis and New Orleans). It would become the capitol of the Arkansas Territory in 1819. But when Arkansas became a state, the capitol had been moved upriver to Little Rock. Arkansas Post was prone to flooding, and was under constant attack by mosquitoes. During the Civil War, the town was destroyed by Union troops. It was never rebuilt, and no buildings remain.

Nearby was the town of Napoleon, which was established in the 1830s at the confluence of the Arkansas and Mississippi Rivers. It became the county seat of Desha County, and quickly became a prosperous river town. In the 1840s, Napoleon was chosen as the site of a Marine Hospital. But the town was short-lived. During the Civil War, a canal was cut along the Mississippi River so that Union ships could avoid Confederate guerillas. The change in the river brought the current of the Mississippi to Napoleon, and within a few years the river had claimed the city. Nothing is left now, but it is said that sometimes you can see some ruins of the town when the river is low.

The economy of the county has always revolved around farming, and it has struggled ever since modern farming techniques were implemented. The population of the county has steadily fallen, from a high of almost 30,000 in 1940 to just around 11,000 in 2020.











This old restaurant sat along Hwy. 65 near Dumas.



And this abandoned gas station was just down the road:











This neat old Methodist church was nearby, which is open and still in use.





And one last shot, before I head to head back home. This is an old cotton gin, now abandoned and rusting away.