Return Trip Day 4: Arkansas and the Ozarks

We drove over the Mississippi River from Tennessee to the alluvial plain of Eastern Arkansas this morning. One of the first things I noticed about Arkansas, besides the flat mud brownness of it (in contrast to the green rolling hills of TN) was the potholes in the freeway. "Oh," I thought to myself, "must be doing work on this part of the freeway." But, in all the states I have been in Arkansas roads are the least car and tire friendly. The rough road conditions persisted intermittently across the whole state.
We drove on two scenic byways thru the Ozarks today. Highway AR 7, and AR 23 which is called the Pig Trail Scenic Byway. The Pig Trail is located in the Boston Mountain area of the Ozark National Forest. It is a 2 laner that corkscrews thru the mountainous forest with the trees crowding the pavement and interlacing their branches above. It is fun to drive, rather enchanting to be enveloped so cozily for so many miles in a shady, leafy tunnel. There are times when the trees pull back and vistas of forested hillsides can be seen, but because of the curviness of the road a driver often misses the view.
AR7 runs North to South thru the middle area of the Ozark National Forest. It also is a 2 laner. The area has few developed turnouts or marked hiking trails. It appears as tho much of the road frontage is privately owned, for sale signs dotted the landscape and there were lots of single family dwellings. There were numerous small, rundown or completely defunct souvenir shops along AR7, a few still operating and showing signs of pride of ownership. It is a picturesque area, the highest elevation we encountered was 2300'. The tallest peak in Arkansas is Mount Magazine at 2753', it lies south of the area we drove thru.
I have included a picture of my meal making paraphernalia. I eat dinner in the motel room, Amy's soup heated up on a little Sterno stove with bread, milk and yogurt for dessert usually.
One more report: In Russellville, AR, at about 2pm today I saw the flashing lights in the rear view mirror again. This time the patrolman said that in going down the exit ramp two of my tires touched the white line on the shoulder of the road (I was likely trying to avoid a pothole) and he wanted to make certain I "was alright?" This concerned patrolman didn't even look at my driver's license, I guess the mature appearance of my visage satisfied his concerns. I guess it is procedure to check on cars sporting plates from the West Coast...??? The stop lasted about 60 seconds, no time to get the camera out.