Driving to Conway

A trip down Missouri Highway 67 will be beautiful in about3 weeks. Instead of taking the short way to Conway, Arkansas, to see our daughter for Parents' Weekend, we drove from St. Louis to Festus, Missouri, on Interstate 55, and then took the Highway 67 exit. The highway is divided through the hillsides and forests that comprise the Mark Twain National Forest, so traffic is not an issue as it was in the days I traveled from Thayer to the Elephant Rocks and Johnson Shut-ins, some 40 years ago. How is that possible!?

We reached Farmington about lunch time, and decided to brave a trip into town to find a local restaurant. We got lucky, both with the trip into town, and with the local restaurant. Farmington is about a mile or so off the highway, and the drive is dotted with some beautiful, old homes, immaculate landscaping, and even a little urban park - if we can think of a town of 6,000 as urban. We felt as if we were taking a trip backwards in time, if only for a decade or so. The downtown area was actually decorated for fall, with different-themed scarecrows hanging on to streetlamp posts. The courthouse lawn was populated not by scarecrows, but by a couple of stuffed scary creatures, including what looked like a headless horseman. I wonder if the people were making a comment about their confidence in the justice system? I hope not.

The downtown courthouse square was, for the most part, full of what looked to be thriving businesses, including a music store. We went into what appeared to be an interesting looking restaurant - 12 West. Our guess was that the owners had rehabbed a couple of old brick buildings to put together a bar and restaurant. We didn't spend much time in the bar, but were escorted into a really lovely dining area that was punctuated by curved booths along the western wall. We sat in one of the booths because it looked romantic, and we could sit right next to each other. A bronze-colored silky fabric was draped overhead, looking like something from the Arabian Nights, and the ceiling was dotted with chandeliers that could have come from West Elm: They were shaped into an upside down pyramid by dangling rectangles of faux mother-of-pearl in a golden color. The restaurant wasn't too crowded, but we thought it might get loud when completely full, because the restaurant had many hard surfaces; the floor was concrete, the walls brick, and the ceiling extremely high.

We both opted for a hamburger, and each was cooked to order. Guacamole was well-flavored and the fried potato wedges were well-done and crunchy. We will probably stop there again when we're in the area.

My husband and I had a bet as to whether the county where Farmington is located (St. Francois) is prounounced St. Francis or St. Fran-swa. I took the latter even though I know we're talking about the pronunciation of people in Missouri. I lost.

The rest of the trip to Poplar Bluff was lovely as well, as the highway continued to wind through the trees and forest. We went through a series of places where the highway is being improved, so we encountered some traffic that was typical Missouri: farmer going into town in no particular hurry, rubbernecking along the way. All in all, though, the drive was enjoyable in perfect weather. We had the convertible top down all the way!

A note: In St. Louis, we ate dinner at Giovanni's on the Hill - the Italian restaurant section and in the area where Joe Garragiola and Yogi Berra grew up, for those of you unfamiliar with St. Louis geography. The food was fabulous, the Chianti really nice, and the atmosphere traditional old Italian fine dining - white tablecloths, china chargers, and alcoves in each of the dining rooms. The menu features a dish prepared especially for Oprah, as well as a couple for a couple of Presidents who also dined there - though probably not at the same time as Oprah! Max had osso bucco, and I had veal saltimbocca. We were both happy and sated.

I'm sure we will take our usual route back home tomorrow, with no surprises, but the adventurous trip down the east side of Missouri was a delightful bright spot in a life of the usual.