Dog Day Afternoon

Dog Day Afternoon

Little Rock – Hot Springs, AR

Lots to cover. A wonderful stay in Little Rock with Gunnar and Maria. Little Rock explorations. Our Gunnar-guided ride to Hot Springs. And a super fun afternoon and evening in Hot Springs National Park with Gunnar, Maria and our new friend David. 

After Maria made dinner for us the first two nights in Little Rock we had an opportunity to cook last night. I made chicken curry – a dish our daughter Lauren and I have been making the last few years – and Diana – with a full kitchen at her disposal and lots of butter around – baked a delicious apple crisp. Was fun to play normal people for the day! Gunnar and Maria had a few fun friends over and we chatted about life in Little Rock, how jealous they were that in Minneapolis we don’t feel like outliers for supporting Harris in the election, and how crazy they think our trip is. 

We all teased Maria about her Harris-Walz lawn sign. In Minnesota we put our signs out by the road so everyone can see. It looked like Maria was trying to split the difference. She had a sign, but maybe in Little Rock you don’t want to be too out there in your support – lest your neighbors shun you . . . So Maria had a sign, but it was kind of hiding by the bushes. Although, really, it didn’t seem like there was that much MAGA in their neighborhood . . .

More on Little Rock . . .

First off, we actually really took the day off on Friday. No biking. No swimming. No illegal swimming. Just spent the day catching up on things and going to museums and stuff. (It did rain in the afternoon – the only detritus of the hurricane here in Arkansas – so that made it easier to do a museum day . . .)

Yesterday it was nicer and we were at least a little rested, so we biked around Little Rock. As promised, we visited Little Rock Central High School and the accompanying national park. 

I guess I thought I knew more about the Little Rock Nine than I actually did. I thought they showed up at the school, everyone was mad and trying to stop them, but the national guard just pushed everyone aside and they went in and that was that. 

No. What really happened was weeks and months of ugly scenes, with the governor of Arkansas bringing in the national guard to prevent the nine African-American students from attending the school. Only after weeks of ugliness and national and international press did President Eisenhower send in, I think, the 101st airborne division to enforce the Supreme Court’s desegregation order. And even then, it was brutal for those nine students – with constant berating by the other students throughout their time at Central. 

Pretty cool that they have made this a national park. Those dark days and the bravery and perseverance of those students and their families are the stories that define us as a country that is at least trying to do better. 

From there we went to the capital and then we typed downtown into google and followed its directions to a sad corner with basically nothing there. Confusing.

We eventually found a really cool sculpture garden and the original little rock – from whence the town apparently got its name. Turns out that Little Rock – which sits on the south side of the river – got its title only in reference to Big Rock – which was a large face on the north side of the river. But now the town on the north side of the river is North Little Rock. Maybe when this trip is over I’ll come back to this sad town, run for mayor, and demand that it be restored to its original glory with the new (old) honorific of Big Rock.

Today’s ride . . . Well, first, I need to swear you to secrecy. Don’t tell any of the other transcontinental bikers about our indiscretion. Gunnar guided us to Hot Springs, and Maria and David drove out to join us for the afternoon. Which meant we were able to have Maria and David take our bags … in the car! Amazing to pedal a twenty-something pound bike. Between riding behind the 6’6” Gunnar and the lighter bikes it was like a vacation day. But, like I say, don’t tell anyone. We might be expelled from the club or something. 

Sadly, even with our pannier vacation we had a little adventure. 

Gunnar rode ahead to take a video of us riding at one point. Diana and I slowed down, because Gunnar never bikes far ahead before he stops to set up his video. 

As we approached Gunnar for the photo shoot all hell broke loose. 

I think there were three dogs doing their barking/growling thing – of course none of them restrained in any way. They’re barking and coming right at us in the road. At that same moment a car is coming up from behind. And as if that wasn’t enough, the apparent owner of these feral animals is materializing – yelling at the dogs and running out into the road himself. 

In the commotion one of the dogs is coming right at me. Mind you, we’re not going fast at this point – because we’re supposed to be modeling for the camera. So I’m not escaping based on speed. 

As it comes closer I’m “seeing” with my emotions. And what I’m seeing with those emotions – which is clearly led by fear – is a dog who is frothing at the mouth, with teeth bared, ready to end my trip in a single canines-laden bite. 

I pull my foot out of the pedal and give him a good kick right in the snout. Kick might actually be a strong word. It was more like a push. But whatever it was, afterwards I didn’t see that dog anymore – with my eyes or my emotions . . . 

Later Diana was mad at me for abusing the dog. I think she felt sorry for it.

”He looked so confused afterwards,” she lamented. 

“Also, the owner might have gotten mad at you for kicking his dog. You don’t know what these Arkansas MAGA people might do . . .”

What?!? Who’s the victim here . . .?

As I rode away I’m looking back on a crazy scene. Dogs running all over, still barking. That car behind us still trying to get through. The dog owner – who is shirtless and crazy – is running into the road trying to corral the feral pack as he shouts their names. Something like:

”Cujo! Come here, now. DemonSeed – that’s enough! Butcher! Be good!”

The amazing part is that this is all on camera – because that is exactly what Gunnar was doing: filming us. You can judge for yourself whether I kicked too hard. Or how dangerous these dogs were. Or whether they had rabies.  So cool that this has all been filmed.

Except that Gunnar apparently forgot to press record or something. Because there’s no video. There are short recordings of the road and of fingers and toes. But no awesome video showing the whole terrible scene unfolding. No photograph even. 

But that’s okay. Because there is always my perfect recollection – combined with my first-rate artistic skills . . .

Hot Springs. I guess there are like 37 towns in the country named Hot Springs. But this one is legit. These are real hot springs. Water comes out of the ground – 650,000 gallons per day – at 143 degrees. (For perspective, normal hot tubs are really hot when they are at like 102 degrees). 

So legit that there is a national park that is part hot springs, part mountain, and part city. And there are like a million old spas on the main strip. Doctors used to prescribe hot spring spa treatment to their patients. I’m kind of hoping that Dr. Liu will prescribe a few days of spa treatment for me. Would do me good. I think it would make me younger. Would definitely cure my back problems. Might be good for my complexion. But, of course, she can’t prescribe anything anymore. These days she’s just a person with a medical degree . . . 

I guess there are two national parks in Arkansas. One is a high school. The other is a mountain, a city, and some gurgling water. We saw both within a span of two days. Pretty fun. 

(Side note on the hot springs. Just one more place with a reminder of our checkered history. Most spas didn’t allow African Americans until the mid-60s. Even though the primary workers at the spas were basically all Black.)

Sad to see our friends go. At this point, nothing stands between us and Mexico other than a little bit of Louisiana and a few cities in Texas. This trip is getting more real all the time . . .