Bus

Summer before last, along with two of my friends, we moved a bus onto my land. It’s a huge bus, one of the biggest built. It had 71 seats, which we pulled out. A great amount of work, but once they were out, what a space. I’d say it’s equivalent to the space in a studio apartment.

It was a wild ride over the hills and around the curves, but we made it without any problems. I parked it behind this gigantic rock. This rock looks like it fell from outer space. It’s surreal. We built a firepit and I’ve since moved a couple of old bus seats on either side of it.

Next summer I plan on painting it and fixing a couple of panes of glass that were broken out before I bought it. I really do love it. It’s the perfect home for me.

Rivers

The summer is made up of trips to the rivers and creeks to swim. I swear the waters are healing. I noticed from the beginning that I looked and felt healthier after the summer was over. The river water is a beautiful clear blue-green color.

I think part of the appeal of life in the Ozark Mountains is that recreation is a natural part of everyday activities. In the afternoon, everyone heads down to the local swimming hole. The one closest to me has a bridge to jump from, and the one nearest my boyfriend has a rope. I’ve jumped from the bridge, but not from the rope, just yet. It’s a pretty big fall.

Towns

The towns have squares with shops on all sides. The town in my county is situated on a hill and you have to drive around three sides of the square to continue along the highway.

My place is far from town, more than 20 miles from the nearest one, 30-40 miles from three other towns. There are no major highways in my county. I am situated on a rough dirt road that no one ever travels down.

The nearest country store is two miles away. But the owner there only seems happy to see you if you buy beer, which I don’t. The nearest gas station was just over three miles away, but now that they’ve stopped selling gas, the nearest gas station is nine miles away.

Home

The roads are like ribbons was one of my first thoughts driving to my place in the forest. It’s as if God dropped ribbons from the sky and where they landed is where there are roads. I knew I had finally found home.

Most of the highways through the Ozarks are lettered, a few are numbered. Nearly all of these roads are a narrow and dark blacktop in excellent condition. They are quiet and empty. The most distinguishable characteristic is the way they curve and wind and go up and down much like a roller coaster.