The White River in Missouri: Facebook

Tales From the MoJo Road –
By Glynn Wilson –

MARK TWAIN NATIONAL FOREST, Missouri – “How many roads must a man walk down, before you call him a man,” Bob Dylan once sang in another anxious time.

He found the answer, “blowin’ in the wind.”

How many rivers must the same man cross, before he might find some peace? I ask.

That may be blown’ in the wind too. But it just gave me a new theme song. “Many Rivers to Cross,” by Jimmy Cliff.

Many rivers to cross
But I can’t seem to find my way over
Wandering I am lost
As I travel along the white cliffs (of wherever).

And this loneliness won’t leave me alone
It’s such a drag to be on your own…

(Lyrics and video below)

At this moment, however, I’m sitting in the media camper van Glyn Ford by another river, listening to the version of the song on “Ramblin’ Heart” by Wayne Perkins, who I hope to see in a few days in Birmingham at the Museum of Art downtown at the premiere of a documentary film about him, “Nobody Really Knows Me.”

I know him. Here’s the story in case you are new in these parts on the web press.

It’s Only Rock ‘n’ Roll But I Like It: Wayne Perkins and Lynyrd Skynyrd, 1973 to 1977

It’s been four days since the earth shattering election, and I’ve already gone through the first four of the SEVEN STAGES OF GRIEF. I know many of you are feeling the same way.

1. Shock and denial: This is a state of disbelief and numbed feelings.

2. Pain and guilt: You may feel that the loss is unbearable and that you’re making other people’s lives harder because of your feelings and needs.

3. Anger and bargaining: You may lash out, telling God or a higher power that you’ll do anything they ask if they’ll only grant you relief from these feelings or this situation.

4. Depression: This may be a period of isolation and loneliness during which you process and reflect on the loss.

5. The upward turn: At this point, the stages of grief, like anger and pain, have died down, and you’re left in a more calm and relaxed state.

6. Reconstruction and working through: You can begin to put pieces of your life back together and move forward.

7. Acceptance and hope: This is a very gradual acceptance of the new way of life and a feeling of possibility for the future.

Moving On

It might be easy to give up and say to hell with it all. It may come to that.

But I’ve decided not to let it get me down, at least for now. Donald Trump is not president yet. We have a couple of months to prepare. Joe Biden is still in charge of the federal government as president until Jan. 20, 2025, and Kamala Harris is still Vice President. What will happen to her political career next is up in the air, or “blowin’ in the wind.”

There should be no need for violence and civil war at least. The confederates won. The Democrats are accepting it. Biden has already said there would be a smooth transfer of power, even though Trump’s toady’s are not cooperating. This is like, what if after winning the Civil War, Lincoln had handed over the keys to Washington City to Jefferson Davis and Robert E. Lee?

Next Stage: 6. Reconstruction

So my exploration of the landscape continues as my journey goes on, and on.

After watching the results in Little Rock, and seeing more on Wednesday morning and everyone calling the election for Trump, at first I was in the shock and denial phase, then came the pain and anger. How could this be? On the verge of depression, I had to take a quiet, dark break off the grid in the woods for a night. I hightailed it north toward the Missouri line to find peace by a river, with an overnight off-grid stop in Devil’s Den.

Related

Arkansas Democrats looked for a silver lining Tuesday night, cite legislative gains

Trump Rocks the Free World, Stunning the American Establishment Again in Apparent Electoral College Win

Consulting with Spirits at Devil’s Den After a Nightmare Election Night

First thing Thursday morning, we continued north, making it to the White River, camping for two nights in the Roaring River State Park, which is described as a “rugged and scenic landscape” which “paints a colorful setting for much of the intriguing history and folklore associated with the Ozark hills. With its deep, narrow valley, mountain like terrain and deep blue spring, the park’s natural beauty is breathtaking,” the agency says that administers it in Missouri.

“Over thousands of years, the White River cut into the flat plateau, creating deep, steep-walled valleys and exposing an unusual variety of rock formations for such a small area. The area’s geology and rugged landscape influence the growth of more than 600 species of plants … many of which cannot be found in any other region of the state.”

Of all the other places I’ve seen over the past two months since leaving Maryland and Virginia, I like this place the best so far. I have a feeling I will be back. The attitude of the staff was excellent, even if the fall color is muted this year due to a drought.

One view of the campground in the Roaring River State Park in Missouri just north of Eureka Springs, Arkansas: Glynn Wilson

There is an old, historic school house on the property, which I found interesting. Obviously our education system is failing these days.

The Roaring River School house: Glynn Wilson

The Roaring River School house: Glynn Wilson

The Roaring River School house: Glynn Wilson

It’s very close to Cassville, Missouri, which has a legal cannabis dispensary and a tobacco store that sells Montego Blues for $33 a carton, cheaper even than that little place in Front Royal, Virginia near the entrance to Shenandoah National Park.

It looks like a perfect place to return in the spring to use as a camp to launch a major trip out west through Oklahoma to Colorado, New Mexico, Nevada and California. And it’s not so far to get back to, at least compared to Birmingham, Alabama or Washington, D.C.

That is if I come back.

Much is not known. The world is once again in a state of flux. I am human, so not immune to its effects.

Another River

But for this Saturday night and Sunday morning, at least, I’m now over 200 miles east of there by another river not far from Memphis, Tennessee. There’s a park named after Tom Sawyer I want to check out by the Mississippi River south of here.

From there it’s just a half a day’s drive to Birmingham. I could be there by the time you read this on Sunday or Monday.

I’m digging this Mark Twain theme of late. He was probably the first American writer to describe how utterly easy it is to fool people into believing a lie and falling for a con.

I don’t know if he actually said it or not, but it makes sense.

“A lie can travel half way around the world while the truth is putting on its shoes.”

While I take off my shoes, it’s obvious these days all you have to do is watch a little cable news to see how easily fooled people are by a huckster even as blatantly fraudulent as Trump, with his gold-plated sneakers on sale for a god awful price, along with Lee Greenwood’s Bible, which includes a copy of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution, as if they had anything to do with Moses or Jesus. They don’t. Most of the founding fathers were Diests who found spiritually in nature and grounding in “natures laws.”

In today’s jargan, they were woke, reading every book they could find. And they were few and far between then, compared to now.

They spoke of “providence,” but left it up to the individual to interpret that for themselves and thought it was a bad idea to even discuss a state religion, like today’s right-wing Christian Nationalists seem to want to impose on us all, like these Opus Dei Catholics running the Heritage Foundation.

Project 2025: The Author and Head of the Heritage Foundation’s Ties to Radical Catholic Group Opus Dei

So let me cross this river, and maybe I will see you soon like Kansas sang, “down the road.”

Some of you have asked to see more pictures of the new (used) camper van. Here are a couple of shots.

Jimmy Cliff

Lyrics

Many rivers to cross
But I can’t seem to find my way over
Wandering I am lost
As I travel along the white cliffs of Dover

Many rivers to cross
And it’s only my will that keeps me alive
I’ve been licked, washed up for years
And I merely survive because of my pride

And this loneliness won’t leave me alone
It’s such a drag to be on your own
My woman left me and she didn’t say why
Well I guess, I have to try

Many rivers to cross
But just where to begin, I’m playing for time
There are times I find myself
Thinking of committing some dreadful crime

Yes, I’ve got many rivers to cross
But I can’t seem to find my way over
Wandering I am lost
As I travel along the white cliffs of Dover

– Jimmy Cliff