Hank and Jeb

Hank and Jeb

While hitting the high spots on Arkansas Scenic Highway 7, we happened upon a pullout containing one cement picnic table that was located high on Ola mountaintop above Lake Nimrod.  A couple of fellows were standing behind their two old Chevy pickups.  One of them was using the hitch on his blue truck as a footstool and the other was leaning against the side of the truck bed, and they appeared to be involved in some serious jawboning and drinking Cokes.

Because there are relatively few pullouts on Arkansas mountain roads, Pat and I stopped when one came available -- to view the scenery, take photos and chat with susceptible victims.  The two fellows looked up as I passed so I said "How you doing?"

"OK," they replied.  "How are you?"

So, now that I had their attention, I could not pass the chance to learn a little about their story.  Everybody has a story, right?  "Do you fellows live around these parts?" I asked.

But, before I get to their story, let me introduce them.

 The fellow on the left is Hank and the other is Jeb.  They have been friends ever since they were kids.  Hank lives on the north side of Ola Mountain and Jeb on the south side.  They both have separate vegetable gardens where they grow tomatoes, beans, carrots, corn and such.  "There's not much to see in our gardens now because our Spring crops are over and Fall crops have not yet been planted."

"Would you guys do me a big favor?"  I asked.  "Would you pose for a photo?"

"Sure," they said.  And, that's how I got the above photo.  Hank with his toothless grin and Jeb squinting like the sun hurt his eyes.  

"Can't help liking these earthy guys," I thought.

 Jeb volunteered that he sometimes fishes commercially for trash fish on nearby Lake Nimrod.  They are both avid hunters.  "Deer season will start on September 18th," said Jeb.

"So, you have already been hunting for two days?" I asked.

"No," said Hank.  "What day is today?"

"Today is September 20th," I replied.

"How do you know that?" Hank inquired.

"Well, the 18th was my birthday and my watch says today is the 20th."

I guess they found my reasons convincing.

Our conversation was interrupted by a sleek, black Harley bike that pulled off Hwy. 7 and parked nearby.  Its passengers consisted of a handsome, 40ish couple dressed in matching all black leather jackets with black helmets, boots and face-masks.  "Are you guys train robbers?" I asked.

They gave me a slightly amused look without comment.  The man stayed seated on his bike and the woman dismounted and strolled over in her biker boots.  "Tell you what," I said, "What would you take to climb up on that picnic table and sing us a song?"  She smiled, walked over to the table and climbed on top -- but did not sing a note.

 

After taking a couple of photos of Lake Nimrod and environs, she hopped down and said, "Now it's your turn." 

OK, now I felt a little trapped but obliged to continue the game.  

I somehow managed to drag my old bones up onto that table, but was at a loss about what song to sing.  The song that finally came to mind was "Aya en el Rancho Grande" -- so I croaked out maybe half of the first verse.  

"Enough is enough," I thought as I descended from those giddy heights.  The lady strode up to me, said some words in some foreign language that I could not understand, gave me a big hug then jumped back on her bike and in a cloud of dust, they disappeared south on Arkansas Scenic Highway 7.  Probably destined to rob a bank somewhere else.

 

"Well, events like that don't happen every day," I thought.

Bye the way, the guys were not really named Hank and Jeb.  I made that up.  Just seemed to fit.

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