Farm tractors churning earth on either side of I-40 west of Memphis have created finely powdered clouds the prairie gusts tumble over the featureless landscape. Target: Gold Wing. Thanks to the conspiratorial workings of Mother Nature and John Deere, the grit slowly building on my sunscreen-slathered face has inspired images of a new super hero - Sandpaper Man!

My destination, Eureka Springs, an authentic nineteenth-century resort tucked away in the Ozarks, is 992 miles away. While on my way and passing through the Smokies, it was 37 degrees and sleeting. The next afternoon in Arkansas, it was 92 and bright. Quite a contrast, and it set the tone for the next few days.

In a bygone era, Hot Springs was a crooked place. This past fall we lit out for those storied hills to prove that it still is.