Round and round and round and...

When I was in Arkansas  a couple of week ago (just a couple? It seems like months...) I spent some time following elk around, trying to get that one great picture. This is no different than being at home...

The rest of the time I spent trying not to get lost. A better way of saying that was I tried to get un-lost. No, that's not right either. I wasn't lost, I just couldn't find my way out...

The elk disappear into the trees during the day, coming out around sunset and again at sunrise, so I had to find something to do in between. There are several short dayhikes around the area, some of which I had already hiked on a previous trip. Locals kept telling me to go to Hawksbill Crag, a rock outcropping also known as Whitaker Point. Sounded good to me.

This is what the crag looks like on the Arkansas tourism site:

This is what it looked like when I was there:

I want to go back when it looks like the first picture. Or maybe I could just get proficient with Photoshop?  It's much more likely that I'll hike a thousand miles before 'Shop and I get friendly.

I had a trail map, one of those fabulously expensive, tear-proof, waterproof, lasts as-long-as-you-wanna hike maps. I used it to find the trailhead, and then promptly went amnesiac that it was it my pack. It's important to the story that you remember that I forgot.

You don't have to go hiking to get lost, just read this blog, huh?

To get to the crag, you go down a trail, like this:

Let me just note here that apparently trail markers are very, very, expensive, because every trail I've been on the state of Arkansas is severely blaze deficient. Really, folks, don't be so stingy with them!  I'll buy you some of those little plastic squares!!!

To complicate things further, not much in the woods was changing color yet, but the leaves that were changing, were the exact color of the trail blazes. Oh yes.  Like this-do you see a blaze anywhere?!?!

I traipsed along the trail to the crag, and ate my lunch out on the end of it, like this: How's that for an office view?

and then I took a little nap, and headed back to the trailhead and a hamburger.

Except that it didn't work like that. I got to a switchback in the trail, a junction that I was pretty dang sure should take me over the top of the mountain to my vehicle, and couldn't see any trail.  No trampled leaves. No skid marks. And not a single dang blaze.  So I cast up and down the creekbed for a bit, starting to get a bit frustrated, and then went back to the switchback, the last known blaze location.

I looked up the way I had come from, and saw a faint trail off to the side. hmm, I don't remember that angle, but maybe it curves around and crosses the creek.  hi ho, hi ho, off through the woods we go.

It was like being hit with a tazer. I looked up and saw this:

Refer to crag picture at top of blog. I had ended up back at the rock. It was cool the first time, less so the second. Back I went to the switchback. At the junction I went back and forth on both directions of the switchback, and finally, waaaay down the creek saw a bit of orange. Remember that map in my backpack? I wish I had at this point.

lobbity lob through the trees, right along the bluff. Great view.  Don't stumble, it's a long way down.

Cool trail, neat rocks.  wait, I thought I've seen this one before. Sure feels like I'm going the same direction as before...

Welcome to the Twilight Zone episode, caught on Cave Mountain.

I've seen Whitaker Point enough times to last me the rest of my backpacking life. At that moment I took stock of the situation- I had a sleeping bag, water, food, cookstove, a whistle, a camera. I could survive several days out here if necessary, and it was starting to look like it would.

One more time back down the trail to the junction. Look up and down the creek. I KNOW I have to go over the top to get to my car. I KNOW I have an hour of daylight left. I KNOW that I'll be fine if I camp for the night. I KNOW that if I ever get out of here I'm petitioning the Arkansas legislature to raise park allocations so they can buy some damn trail markers.

I finally spotted a really big, flat rock halfway up the hill. I knew I had come across a really big flat rock, so I clawed my way up via the root system. Sure enough. It was my rock. I took off in the general direction of an assumed trailhead, and about a tenth of a mile later ran across an orange blaze. Not an orange leaf, but a real honest to goodness piece of plastic trail blaze. Hallelujah. I managed to turn a 2 mile trail into a 6 mile jaunt. No problem, it's all A.T. prep.

Rookie mistakes:

1. cockiness. Just because I'm an experienced hiker doesn't make me experienced on THIS trail.
2. didn't look at the trail map closely before starting. Refer to point 1.
3. wandered around instead of thinking it through. Refer to point 1.

Old person mistake:

1.  not taking a young person who would remember we had a map with us.

When I finally found my (beautiful, civilized, full of water and snacks) car, I nonchalantly threw my pack in the trunk, at which point the map slid out.  oh.  uh.  duh.

I took a sneaky peak, and sure enough, Cave Mountain trail is a loop. I'll be danged.

I want to go back with someone who's never been there, so I can look like an expert when they can't find the trail, and I blithely say "oh, it's this way, trust me." Know any rookies?

I felt like I earned my burger, so I stopped in Ozone, Arkansas at the Burger Barn.
A touch of Ozone was a fitting end to the Twilight Zone.

Trailing along

Wakey wakey!  There's walking to do. The psycho squirrel above us was chucking acorns hard and fast, determined that no one was going to sleep in. I thought about throwing something back at him, but I was afraid to do any more damage to the tent. If you look carefully you can see the expert patch job with a specialty camping product-duct tape. Camping in southwest Kansas this summer we got caught in a storm and it flattened our tent, bending one aluminum pole badly and snapping the other pole in two. The broken bones of our mobile home then speared the rainfly, creating a t-shaped laceration in the skin of our woodsy womb.

The poles were sent off for repair, and now we're testing the rain repellent qualities of duct tape. So far so good. Today's plans included hiking a small section of the Ouachita Trail, which we have been told is a 192 mile long, good approximation of the Appalachian Trail. Just the fact that it spans two states is worth something in my book.

Does the AT have bear warning signs? Bear archery season was in effect, but the quota for the year was filled the first day and all hunting had been suspended. Four counties in southeast Oklahoma allow bear hunting, with a total of 20 bear tags allotted. The system is a bit odd, however, as hunters call in each morning to see if the annual quota has been filled before they head out to exercise their pursuit of brawn over bruin. Thirty-one bears were shot the first day, slightly over the quota.  Ooooops.  I bet they change the system before much longer.

We headed into town for breakfast, at the Skyline Cafe, with biscuits "so good you'll write home about 'em," so the waitress said.  Well, they were good enough I'll at least write about them. In fact, breakfast was good enough that I overate to the point I couldn't walk, so we decided to take the Talimena Scenic Drive instead.

Even with most of the trees here being of the evergreen type, there was still plenty of intense color. That color waved cheerily at us as we zipped by, begging us to slow down and enjoy the view. The 13% grade of the Scenic Drive has a tendency to make you take a quick glimpse, say "ain't that purty," and get back to the business of standing on your brakes.


There is so much color here it's almost blinding. One favorite way to recall and relive our trips is to have puzzles made from some of the photos. This looks like a good 500 piece memory.

The land is so wavy here I'm getting seasick just looking at it. The trail goes up and over all those humps. A thousand feet up and down each side. I can't wait.

I should have brought some of those biscuits with me. I bet the bears would have appreciated it.

 Happy Trails, and may all your adventures be something to write home about!