Monument Rocks

We crossed the border and entered Kansas. This was my second visit to the Sunflower State, the first was way back in the 90s during a road trip with my family. On that trip we went out of our way to visit Dodge City, because my mother wanted to see where Marshal Dillon and Miss Kitty lived (she was disappointed to get there and find out that they didn't actually live there because they were fictional characters from the TV show Gunsmoke).

We didn't stop in Dodge City this time, instead we stayed on the freeway as it cut across the state. Now you do see a lot of people complain about this drive being really boring, but I didn't think it was all that bad. The terrain is flat, but it was dotted with numerous silos, windmills and old buildings. Or maybe I've driven through the Arkansas Delta so much that I've gotten immune to flat lands. But that evening we stopped at Oakley, a small town in western Kansas. And after checking into the hotel and getting dinner, Jonah and I got back in the car and headed south towards Monument Rocks.

To get there we drove through what truly did feel like the middle of nowhere. We went through what seemed like a vast expanse of farms and fields, along with an occasional oil derrick or an old wind mill.



The road also passes through rangeland, and there were several places where cows were lazily grazing alongside the road, without any fences to keep them from strolling out in front of a car. After about 45 minutes of driving we finally saw Monument Rocks, sticking up from the landscape like a natural Stonehenge (seen here in the distance with an indifferent cow grazing in the foreground):



Monument Rocks (also known as the Chalk Pyramids) look almost surreal, definitely not what you'd expect to find way out here in the prairie. It looks like someone scooped up part of Death Valley and just dropped it off here amongst the farms and ranches.







The rock formations began to form over 80 million years ago during the Cretaceous period. Back then, this area was all under a vast inland sea that used to stretch across the North American continent. Sediment from that sea became layers of shale and chalk, which were then lifted up through tectonic forces. Over time those rocks were eroded into their current shapes, which includes arches and pillars that are up to 70 feet tall.











A large number of fossils have been found in the area, including giant swimming reptiles called mosasaurs and plesiosaurs. There were also fossils of aquatic birds, fish that were 20 feet-long, and clams that were six feet in diameter.



We didn't see any swimming reptiles or large clams while we were out there. But there were a lot of birds - a bunch of cliff swallows were perched on the chalk spires. The small birds use mud to build nests on the side of rock formations, and they are good hunters of insects. Thanks to their hard work, we weren't bothered by mosquitoes at all while we were there.



The rocks still feel ancient, maybe because the area around it hasn't been developed. There are no bathrooms, no tacky souvenir shops. Nothing except the lonely dirt road and the wind. It doesn't seem like it'd be much too different than what it must have been like here centuries ago. The only difference being just the chalk formations getting slowly eroded over time.







As it got closer to sunset, the chalk formations took on a deeper golden hue. And the full moon slowly rose higher across the sky.









We headed back over to this arch to catch sunset. There were a few other people out there taking pictures, including one car that sped to a stop nearby. A woman ran out and started taking pictures, saying they wanted to get there quicker but some cows were blocking the road.





And another view through the arch, of the moon rising slowly above the rocks. Above the opening, you can see some of the cliff swallow nests.





It was starting to get dark, so we took a few last pictures:



We got into the car to start the drive back to our hotel in Oakley, only for the car to give an unpleasant little chime and warning - low tire pressure. Somewhere on our road trip we managed to pick up a nail, and it was slowly letting air out from one of the tires. I got out and looked at the tire, and it looked like it was ok to still drive on for a bit (I guess, I am not a mechanic). The last thing I wanted to do was have to change a tire along a dirt road in the dark in the middle of nowhere. So I slowly and nervously started driving back, constantly keeping an eye on the tire pressure. And it steadily decreased, dropping a few PSI along the way.

The dirt road back from Monument Rocks seemed even more eerie at night, especially with the looming threat of a flat tire hanging over us. It didn't help that the "quickest" route the GPS decided to guide us back to civilization just happened to go across a bridge that had been washed out and was closed. So we had to double-back, adding more time and mileage on our leaking tire. But thankfully we eventually made it back to Oakley and to a truck stop that was still open, so we could put some air in the tire. We made it back to the hotel all safe and sound, glad to have been able to visit a scenic spot like Monument Rocks. It was worth the drive out there, even with the air slowly leaking out of the tire in the hotel parking lot.

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:

Collins Creek

It's finally prime waterfall season here in Arkansas. But there's just one problem - we've barely had any rain this year. Most of the state has been classified as being under a drought, which isn't ideal for waterfalls. But luckily there is a place that is guaranteed to have water running year-round, even in the most driest of conditions. So a few weeks ago, I headed up for a quick visit to Collins Creek.

Along the way there were some neat barns, so of course I had to pull over and try to get a few pictures:









And then I finally made it to Collins Creek, which runs year-round because water is piped in from nearby Greers Ferry Lake. The constant flow of water helps serve as a habitat for trout, and as a playground for landscape photographers.







One the way out, I stopped by the overlook by the dam that creates the lake. The concrete dam was completed in 1962 and was dedicated by President Kennedy in October of 1963, one of his last major public appearances. The park here is named in his honor.



And one last shot, of a bridge passing over the Little Red River. There were a few people out fishing in the river nearby.

Harper-Alexander House

People driving by the Harper-Alexander House probably don't even see it. The old house is almost entirely obscured by overgrown bushes and shrubs, hidden away and all but forgotten.



The house was built in 1885 and was part of the Longbridge Plantation, a large postbellum plantation that covered over 2,500 acres. In front of the house are several crepe myrtle trees, including one that has been designated as the state's champion tree, which means that is is the largest known crepe myrtle tree in Arkansas. It towers over the lawn, over 60 feet tall.



It is a beautiful looking old house, though it looks like it is starting to deteriorate. Hopefully someone will be able to renovate and save this old place.



Next to the house are a few other old farm buildings, also silently weathering and fading with age.







The old house sits lonely and empty, and the plantation is long gone. But the land around it is still active and farmed. Which just shows the contradictions and stubbornness of the Delta, and its land, and its history. A history that is all around us, even if we don't see it as we speed down the road.