37 Miles of Rolling Roads, Kindness, and River Dreams

I rolled out of bed before sunrise, made myself a cold instant coffee (as always!), packed up, and hit the road around 6:30 a.m. The morning air was chilly, but not unpleasant—it actually felt kind of energizing. My leg felt so much better, and while I’m still holding off on running a bit longer, I decided to stretch the distance instead. And so began another day of walking through Arkansas.

After everything I’ve been through weather-wise and challenge-wise in this state, I have to say—Arkansas is really growing on me. Today helped with that.

The first 20 miles or so were relatively flat (or at least that’s how my tired mind remembers them). After passing through Ozark, the landscape changed—rolling hills started to shape the rest of the day, a steady rhythm of up and down, up and down. But I liked it. It felt alive. And the scenery? Beautiful. Trees, fields, and that familiar chorus of chirping birds—loud and wild and comforting.

Around mile 30, something really special happened. A woman named Lori pulled over in her car and told me how inspirational she found what I’m doing. She had seen me earlier, much farther down the road. That moment lifted me so much—I can’t even explain it. After so many quiet days, that short conversation meant the world. I told her she totally made my day.

From there, I still had five more miles to Mulberry. Once in town, I stocked up on essentials—water (a whole gallon), an ice-cold soda that I drank immediately, chocolate milk, and a salty bag of chips. Behind the counter was Carrie, who was just as lovely and encouraging. When I told her about the run (which is a walk right now), she smiled and handed me some cheese. As if she knew how much the Swiss love their cheese.

The day wasn’t done yet—I still had three miles to walk to the campground near the Mulberry River. And what a place. The first person I met was Rob, a warm and friendly retired man who lives there with his wife. He pointed me in the direction of Ty, the owner, who’s in the middle of building a bathhouse with rocks. It’s incredible.

Ty then called Kristy, and she showed up in a “Viking”—one of those off-road 4-wheelers—accompanied by three joyful dogs. She’s amazing. She and Ty created this beautiful campground, and everyone seems to love it here. There’s a shared kitchen, and people eat together regularly. It’s a real sense of community—nurtured and sustained by Kristy’s incredible energy. They also run a nearby farm with cows, alpacas, sheep, pigs, chickens, roosters, and—wait for it—three kangaroos. She’s into crafting and creating, and her love for building, making, and caring for people shines through.

This place feels warm. Like, truly warm. Like people care here. And I’m so grateful to have landed in a place like this at the end of a long day.

I pitched my tent by the river, and after cooking some wonderful eggs for dinner, I’m winding down. The sound of the water, the good tiredness in my body, and the kindness of everyone I met today—it all blends together into this peaceful sense of “yes… this is right.”

So goodnight from the riverside. I’m ready to crawl into my tent, close my eyes, and drift into dreams—of hills, of waves, of voices calling out in kindness.

Dream big too, my friends.