May 25th Miles: 461
Total Miles: 1610
Murphy is clearly accompanying me on this trip. About 5 minutes after I left the gas station, where I had spent the night before cramped into my car sleeping, I spotted a sign for a lovely looking public use riverside park and campground.
Branson, Missouri was only a 30 minutes drive through the twisty rolling roads. My first stop in Branson was the historic downtown section. At first, I thought this was the famous area where tourists from the middle states flock to for their summer getaway. I didn’t get it. I mean, it was quaint and all, but there were no giant billboards touting the performance of some white guy with big, fake hair who was last famous during the Johnson-era. I did however visit a store that would be my Sweetheart’s very worst nightmare. I learned the meaning of a word some months back, and it would sum up this establishment perfectly: kitsch.
Knowing there had to be more to this town, I looked at the map once more. That is when I discovered the real Branson. The one with the theaters and giant electronic billboards touting Branson’s most popular quartet, the Grand Jubilee at 6 p.m.; the awesome animal show at 10 a.m.; Dick Clark’s; some other guy, and some other guy, and some other guy that was famous about 30 years before I was born.
Branson is an enormously corny place. It is also somewhat endearing. The whole place exists to reminisce about a time long past, about more innocent and happy times when things were simpler. Even though in reality those times weren’t nearly as simple and innocent as the memories tend to be remembered, there is something comforting about it. This is Las Vegas for country-music-listening Christian folk.
I consumed the rest of the day making progress across Oklahoma. Since I did not leave Branson until nearly 3 p.m., I opted for the Interstate in hopes of making a little more progress. Oklahoma is home to vast flatlands – the kind I was expecting to see more of during my drive through Missouri. Interstate 42 carried me to 412 West at a speed of just above 80 MPH. They set real speed limits out here. Maybe because driving is the most interesting thing you can do in a land full of brown.
This day, I was more successful in finding a campground to stop for the night. My first stop was at Little Sahara state park. There appeared to be a dune buggy and ATV convention going on. There may have been a spot to set up. but I was not going to stay around to find out. Beer-drinking shirtless white guys riding around in four-wheeler’s was not my idea of camping fun.
I eventually made my way further west to Boiling Springs State Park where I pitched the tent for the evening. As I type I’m sitting in the tent, tucked into a sleeping bag on top of an air mattress, happy after a comfy night of sleep — finally.
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Posted by: The Big Cheese