Our Arkansas Adventure, Part 2

So, last time we left our intrepid "heroes," they were on the way to a wedding reception in the Ozarks. Now, along with the bride's immediate family, we were the only out-of-town guests for this event. We had been provided with a map of the roads around the reception site (home of the groom's sister, last name "Bay"), along with the house number. The bride's family was planning on following the groom, and we left under the cheerful direction of our GPS. We were assured that with this nifty device in our car, we would have no problem locating the address.

Everything goes smoothly, up through beautiful, twisting roads; past verdant green trees and pastures. (they have 3 kinds of cattle down there: the red kind, the black kind, and the cream kind. And apparently each farmer has their own particular favorite color, so very few herds are mixed. If you bred a red one and a cream, would you get a nice pink? We heard there were whites, too, but for my money, they looked just like the creams to me)

Our handy-dandy GPS indeed guides us smoothly to the correct road, and as we watch the distance to destination tick down, we start watching for something "reception-like." Finally our guide announces, "Destination on left," so we look left to see:

Hmmmm.... that doesn't look very promising. And you can't even see the best part - the broken down loveseat on the front porch. Well, we figure maybe it was off by a house or two, no biggie. Just to the left of this monstrosity stunning home is a field full of rocks sporting the sign "Bay Natural Stone," but no house. Between the two is a gravel track that drops off into nowhere, apparently a farm road, but it doesn't look promising for a reception site, either. However, the appearance of the family name ("Bay") for which we were searching encourages us that we are in the correct area, and on we drive.

We know we are looking for house # 17692, so we started eyeballing house numbers. The next building looks like it has the correct house number:

But seeing as this place is labeled "For Rent" on the hand painted plywood sign, we doubt it is our destination, either. Fortunately we realize this is #17962 (transposition of the last 2 numbers), so we breathe a sigh of relief and continue on.

The next place we find is even more promising. It is on the opposite side of the road, but over the driveway is a large metal arch (think ranch entrance), sporting the name "Bay" across the middle. Now surely this is the correct location. We head down the driveway, over the cattle guard, past the cows, over another cattle guard, and up to house... which has no cars in the driveway. Unless the other members of the family have flown in by helicopter, they are obviously not here, either.

By this point, we figure we've passed it somehow, and it is time to head back the way we came. We head out of the "Bay" driveway, and just as we are about to pull out, we are stopped by this fellow, guardian of the home across the street.

Now, you can't tell from this picture, but this guy (we'll call him Blackie) had his hackles raised and WAS NOT going to let us pass unchallenged. We would inch forward a foot or two, he would run right in front the car, barking up a storm. Finally, convinced he had made his point, he would start to back off, only to repeat the performance the second we started forward again. By this point, we are cracking up hysterically. We are too chicken prudent to exit the vehicle and approach Blackie, possibly losing a hand in the process. So we inch our way out onto the road bit by bit, finally heading on our way about 5 minutes later.

We head back the way we had come, looking for the proper house number. It doesn't help that the house numbers in this area are non-sequential, so it takes several passes before we finally spot a small fire number on a post that matched the elusive #17692. It flanks a small dirt road, which we promptly follow, but a few feet in, we spot:

Now, you may not be able to read this very well, but the sign says, "Slow, Amish School Zone." Ummmm... they didn't look Amish.... did they? To the right is a small, school-like red building, and ahead you can see the twisting course of the "road," not a house in sight. Once again, not promising, so it was back to the drawing board.

I figure it is time to bring out the big firepower... I am going to ask directions. Our first stop is a fairly average looking property, where I had just seen someone walk through the yard. I figure easy, right... pull in the driveway, and the person in the yard will be curious and come up to ask, "Can I help you?" with a smile, and we will sheepishly explain how we are lost, and they will immediately say cheerfully, "OOohh... you want the xxxx house on the left 1/2 mile down the road.. can't miss it!"

OK, so it doesn't quite go that way. First, whoever was wandering around the yard is nowhere to be found by the time we pull up to the driveway proper. So, undeterred, I head up to the house (you didn't think DH was going to do this do you? Ask for directions? Really?) and call out. And call out. And shout louder because the two dogs fenced beside the house are barking non-stop at the top of their lungs. And shout again. Finally, after several minutes, someone comes to the door. After I explain our situation, she says (at least I think it was a she), "Oh, you know where it said 'Bay Natural Stone?' There's a road just to the right of that you'll want to take."

Remember... the unpromising gravel road we looked at, and rejected, earlier?

Well, we were game. After all, sometimes surprising things are hidden out of the way. We bump and thump our way down the road, and we certainly were surprised, if that's how you want to put it...

This picture does not do justice to the backwoodsness quaintness of this property. There were no less than 4 trailers/campers serving as permanent homes, as well as what appeared to be several broken-down vehicles, and other miscelleanious junk collectibles. Why, it was like being back at my Mom's house, only neater! And just to prove we were really in the middle of nowhere, just look at our GPS!

Our favorite part of the yard (of which I did not get a snapshot, much to my chagrin), was a large sign announcing "No Loitering, No Children Playing".... sitting right in front of a large playset. That and the flagpole completely surrounded by paddock fencing... not sure if that was to keep cattle out, or to keep the flag from escaping.

Anyway, Bubba #1 meets me as I climb out of the car. I explain my situation, figuring that if these folks have the same last name ("Bay") as our destination, they likely know where their relatives live. Bubba hums and haws, and says he doesn't know those folks. "But we had hoped that since they have the same last name...." Oh, he just works here, but maybe the guy who lives here would know. Hmmm.. couldn't he have told us that first? I ask to speak with the owner, who it turns out is headed our way.

Bubba #2 is a bit more helpful, though certainly not more cheerful. He does say we will see a sign for the house number, and to turn in on a dirt road. "You mean the one with the Amish School sign? We didn't think that looked right."

"Oh," we are told, "that's just his sign."

At this point, we are laughing so hard we can barely breathe.

OOOKaay.. So back to the Amish School House we go. We turn on to the dirt road and drive.... and drive... and drive....

You can't see it here, but at the bottom of this hill is a swamp, too, just to make our experience complete. Finally, as we round the corner and head up the hill, we see a sign of life:

Surely the house is just out of sight over the crest of the hill, right?

Right????

Well, here's the barn. Or garage. Or whatever. But still no house. No people. there are a couple extra cars, but that doesn't seem unusual out here.

Then DH has an epiphany. He remembers the minister making some comment before the service about this particular family member having turned a portion of a barn into his house. Now, DH had been envisioning something large, red, and quaint. Something Little-House-ish converted into a unique living space.

He had not been thinking Pole Barn.

But we drive over the cattle guard and approach the building. Just to the right, around the corner, is a service door, and we hear voices from within. Tentatively we knock, hoping maybe these people will know how to find the "Bay" home. The door opens, and there it is. A garage full of people, decorated tables, and food.

Turns out the "house" portion of the barn is the 1/3 you can't see, away from the road. 2/3 of the barn is a large workshop (currently set up for the reception), while the remainder has a kitchen, living room, bath, and three bedrooms (two upstairs). It's an interesting concept, one which had many of the men dreaming. After all... a house where your garage is only steps away, and is bigger than your home? What's not to like???

We relay our tales of travel to those who greet us, and are told, "Oh, we had some signs made up, we just forgot to put them up." Sure enough, there they are, sitting on the floor, next to the bathroom/water heater closet. Sure would have been nice....

We had a great time at the reception, with some excellent barbeque. Our hosts were very welcoming, and as we said our goodbyes, we knew that it would be great seeing these folks again at the wedding in June. No harm done, and we certainly had a story to tell about our trip.

But we sure could have used that sign!

As we headed away from the "house," even the cattle didn't want us to leave...

But we headed back to town for the evening, knowing we had a long drive ahead of us the next day.