Coast-to-coast: San Francisco to Savannah (Part 23)

This entry is part 23 of 30 in the series Coast-to-coast: San Francisco to Savannah

April 23, 2024

Coast-to-coast: San Francisco to Savannah (Part 23)

By Simon J. Lau

This morning, we visited Christ of the Ozarks, a monumental statue just outside the center of Eureka Springs. Towering 67 feet tall, the sculpture depicts Jesus Christ with outstretched arms, gazing out over the Ozark Mountains. Built in 1966, it has become one of the region’s most recognizable landmarks and draws thousands of visitors each year.

Afterward, we stopped by Eureka Springs, a town whose history is closely tied to the rise of Victorian-era spa culture and the belief in healing waters. The city takes its name from the many natural springs in the area, which were long revered by Native American tribes for their supposed medicinal benefits.

In the late 19th century, Eureka Springs surged in popularity as visitors flocked there in search of cures, leading to a boom in grand Victorian-style buildings that housed hotels, bathhouses, and shops. Many of those historic structures still stand today.

This town is also quite hilly. Many of the buildings are tucked right into the slopes behind them, and there’s even a (very sketchy) sky bridge. I only noticed the sign after I’d already walked across: “Unsafe structure. Pedestrian traffic, use caution.” That was exactly what I was thinking as I crossed. For the record, I avoided the bridge on the way back.

Today, Eureka Springs feels like a hipster haven with a distinctly progressive vibe. I spotted at least three Pride flags and a peace flag flying along Main Street, which immediately reminded me of walking through the Castro District in San Francisco. I didn’t expect to find that kind of energy in a small town in Arkansas, since most of the places I’ve passed through have leaned conservative. I was surprised, but pleased to see it.

Parking here was hilarious. Each spot was numbered with its own old-school “payment” slot. There was no way to track time, you just shoved quarters or bills into the box and hoped no one towed your car. There wasn’t an attendant, and there was no real system to verify who had paid.

In theory, if someone who’d already paid left, you could slide into their spot and claim the payment as your own. Still, everyone seemed to play fair (myself included). With no attendant and no variable expense, it struck me as a very lucrative setup for the lot’s owner.

In the evening, we arrived in Oklahoma City, and all I can say is that I hate this place. Within just a few hours, I ran into too many unsavory people and witnessed enough troubling incidents to sour my impression completely.

The most unsettling moment came when four police cars pulled into the Motel 6 parking lot and began searching the premises for a suspect. I wouldn’t call the city outright unsafe, but the experience here left a bad taste in my mouth. Thankfully, we’re only staying for one night.

Finally, our route from Branson and Eureka Springs to Oklahoma City (338 miles or 544 km).