Twenty miles of riding brought me to the Arkansas state line in the city of Texarkana. This particular Arkansas sign was right at an intersection with a traffic light, and I am sure I was a spectacle to the few motorists around on this Sunday morning. I was overjoyed and sent out a few celebratory text messages to friends and family. Yay! :)
	There were a few signs of spring, and these pretty purple clovers were common throughout grassy areas.
Glorious Arkansas!	Outside of Texarkana as I traveled on Highway 82, it set in: I was in Arkansas ... Glorious Arkansas! Believe it or not, this is my adopted southern state. If I ever become a southern man, I will do it right by living in this great state. I even have an Arkansas flag hanging in my living room! And no, my fondness for Arkansas has nothing to do with trying to impress a girl, losing a bet or politicians like Bill Clinton or Mike Huckabee. I captured the true spirit of Arkansas in earnest when I first visited in 2005. Ahhhhhhhh, the Razorbacks, calling out the pigs, the Arkansas way of living ... It was Arkansas love at first sight! Anyway, I rode with a certain amount of gladness to be in this wonderful southern state. My ride would not be perfect by any means, but at least I would be okay in Arkansas!
	A cattle ranch in Miller County, Arkansas.
	Crossing the Red River. This is downstream from its function as the border between Oklahoma and Texas. Out here, it definitely felt like I was faaaaaaaaaar away from those early rides in California and Arizona four weeks ago. :)
Lewisville, Arkansas	I wanted to rest and was willing to buy some food of substance. Lewisville, the county seat of Lafeyette County, seemed like a good place to stop. Ah, but there was only one convenience store on Highway 82, and a handwritten sign on the door said it was closed until 4 p.m. Oh well! Nearby was this old gas station with junk. The tires and the old Ford Fairmont definitely enhance the picture! :)
	Magnolia, Arkansas My 76 mile ride to Magnolia gave me a five day tally of 348 miles. Not bad for my standards, and notice how thin I looked in the adjacent photo! :) Magnolia is a quaint little southern town in southwest Arkansas. The town square has charming appeal, a college (Southern Arkansas University) keeps the cultural scene somewhat lively and very friendly people was the norm. I walked around the town square (top photo) and spoke on the phone with "Val" (not her real name) in Alpharetta, Georgia. I called to share my excitement with her, being she's a lifetime southerner who grew up in rural central Alabama and lives in Georgia as an adult. Well, she scoffed at Arkansas and said I really was not in the South just yet. That hurt my Arkansas feelings*! :( * - Believe me, I was tempted to hurl a comeback that she keeps dating loser men in Atlanta's suburbs, who are transplants from places like Illinois and Ohio. She is not dating real southern men either and she'd be so fortunate to marry a loving and strong southern man from Arkansas! And come on! I have seen plenty of rednecks, trailers, homes with junk out front, front porches with rocking chairs, fast food restaurants offering sweet tea and a few armadillos as roadkill in just the first 50 miles in Arkansas. This is undoubtedly the South! There were two other southerners in Memphis and northwest Georgia who also made me feel inferior about my Arkansas pride. On March 15 ("Day 44") in southeast Georgia, I cheered like crazy thinking of my Memphis friend when Arkansas defeated Tennessee in the men's basketball SEC semifinals. It was quite a moral victory in my view, although sadly, the Razorbacks lost to Georgia in the finals the next day. BOTTOM PHOTO: An interesting mural commemorating an oil boom in the area in 1938. To learn more about Magnolia, visit their chamber of commerce web site: www.magnoliachamber.com.

Flat Tire #4 - The Wait For The Next One Inevitably Ends Photo Above: The bike leans against a roadside fence after the back tire got a flat. I had my fourth flat tire about ten miles west of Magnolia. Amazingly, I had gone without any flats throughout the entire states of New Mexico and Texas. My last flat tire happened outside of Phoenix, AZ, which was three full weeks ago and 1,200 miles away! After the Arizona incident ("Day 10") with maddening problems changing the tube and the unfixable looped chain, my confidence was indeed shaken. Yes, I could recount the many, many times I changed flat tires in my lifetime, but that experience was really demoralizing. It shook my confidence to the core, and I had an uneasiness throughout these past three weeks about the next flat tire: Would I be able to fix it? Would I endure any more exasperating problems that would leave me stranded? I liken it a baseball pitcher who all of a sudden, can't throw a strike, is constantly hurling wild pitches and being hit hard. Or maybe a singer who suddenly develops weird squeaks in her voice that shatters her confidence. One on level, I obviously dealt with my lack of assurance well. I just had to keep moving, and there was no point in worrying about spilled milk that had not even spilled yet. Still, a significant part of my consciousness was mired since that frustrating day in Arizona. You may have read some wonderful spiritual things in earlier reports: My joyful relinquishment of control of the trip to God in Blythe, my extraordinary peace about the stolen bike and triumphantly obtaining a new one, and the seemingly divinely led encounters with strangers at just the perfect times. Those were all good and well, but the day to day reality remained that something changed inside me after the "debacle in the desert" on Day 10. The scriptures of my faith claim there is an intelligent evil whose goal is to "steal, kill and destroy." I can attest that had a lot less joy and my peace was diminished, even though you might see a lot of fun pictures and stories throughout these days. Oh and that little statement God communicated to me ... you know, the one that had such a powerful and healing effect? Well, a significant part of me did not want to reconnect with God about it, especially on the bicycle. What if I meditate on that powerful truth like I did in Arizona? Will I be attacked again with a flat tire or mechanical woes? Will it become chaotic again with me demoralized, stranded and feeling like a total loser on the side of the road? It was quite an irrational fear alright. By the way, I changed the tire just fine, and I coordinated the chain with the cassette of the back wheel without any difficulties. All that worry. Despite my body sorely wanting the ride to be finished, that last ten miles into Magnolia felt magnificent. Handling that glitch was quite a victory, albeit small one, but aren't the big victories usually a compilation of many small ones? :)