In the past year, my family has driven to my sister-in-law’s house in Fayetteville, Arkansas multiple times. Once, we drove out through the plains on I-40 before heading north in the Ozarks, but usually we stop to see my mother and father-in-law in Tulsa on the way. From Tulsa to Fayetteville, we’ve taken state highways offering glimpses of the wooded mountains and meandered our way slowly through trees and lakes. We have re-adjusted our route after making a wrong turn. Each time, we have happily arrived at our destination and a warm welcome.