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.

Don't be a bully!

Although it's nice to watch wildlife, it's even better when the wildlife is doing something. When I was in Arkansas elk viewing, the rut had just began. That meant there was a lot of pawing, snorting, stomping, chasing, challenging, bugling, and herding going on.

I watched this big guy go cut a cow from a neighboring herd and run her back into his harem.

"Back in the kitchen, woman!"  She does not look pleased about the current state of affairs...

While he was busy stealing the cow, these two bulls got into a little tussle. I figure they had to do it to preserve their manhood, seeing as how the other guy was a lot bigger, older, and meaner.

"Hey-let's pretend like we're fighting, so we don't notice him stealing our cow and have to do something about it."

But then one of them wandered too close to Big Bubba's gal pals, and the big boy re-directed the young'un back to his own side of the meadow. Watch the intensity (and I apologize for the shaky videography!)

The Big Guy really, really wanted to fight someone. Anyone. Please, any takers? He also wanted an up close and personal encounter with some of the cows, but they weren't having any part of it, so he took his frustration out on the brush.

Listen to this calf and cow calling to one another, when they got separated and she was trying to get the calf to cross the road and find her. I kinda know how the little guy feels. I spent a good part of one afternoon circling the top of Cave Mountain before I figured out it was loop trail.

Man, from this angle it would be easy to mistake this fella for a bear!

"You girls stay put. I'm gonna go find some punks to intimidate,"

              Happy Trails, and may adventure always be in view!

Bugle Boy of 'Campany' B

Last weekend I ran away from home. Philoboy has a standing offer to run away with me, but he mumbled something about being too busy to go camping.

Please. If I ever say I am too busy to go camping, someone shake me till I come to my senses. He's messing with the moiety of this relationship.

The upside of a solo trip is that I pack food that only I like. I eat spaghetti for breakfast. There's not a lot of meat in the food cache. Philo might shrivel up if he doesn't have meat.

My destination was the Boxley Valley in Arkansas, where elk have been reintroduced after dying out several dacades ago. In fact, they've been reintroduced twice. The second time it stuck and the herd has grown and thrived.

The first day I was there it was raining and chilly, but that meant the elk stayed out in the open for most of the day, instead of retreating to the trees after sunup.

The bugling was amazing. From mountaintop to mountaintop, from one meadow to the next, I've never heard so many bulls at once. The mist and drizzle just added to the eeriness and wonder.

Bulls challenged and bluffed and charged and pawed, and...

"Hey. I'm not taking this lying down. Oh wait, maybe I am."

The town of Ponca is located at the north end of the Boxley Valley. People line the road to take photos of the elk. There's a one-pump gas station. There are no restaurants. Elk tourism has not made an inroad into the local economy yet. Take snacks. Fill up the tank before you get there, it's a long ways to civilization.


"Hey there, gorgeous. Want to come over to my meadow?"

"Oh good grief!  You bulls are all the same! Can't you see I'm busy?!"

If you like hunting with a camera, this is the place to be.

Happy Trails, and may your adventures introduce you to something wonderful!

stuff the stuff

It's possible that we might have too much camping/hiking/backpacking/outdoor gear. I don't really believe that, but I just wanted to lay out the possibility.

For me to take a solo camping trip to Ponca, Arkansas, required a lot of deconstruction before the construction could begin. Gear inventory. It's what I do. I had to move the vehicles, the grill, the box of my children's mementos and Philoboy out of the garage to have enough room to spread it all out. Philoboy's office is in the garage. Somehow, it's important for you to know that.

At one time we got all organized and made camping tubs with cookware, and dinnerware, and emergency ware. Then we made smaller, weekend tubs. Then we made backpacking tubs.Then Philoboy needed a lighter for the grill, and it's been downhill ever since. I can't find anything.

Except for our duct-taped tent. I can't seem to get rid of that thing. It's lived through hailstorms, windstorms, I'm-feeling-fat storms. It doesn't even leak at the duct tape. It's good advertisement for Eureka tents. "Your dome away from home."

Hey, that's pretty good! I think Eureka should hire me to do their advertising!

All this 'gearing up' was so I could drive six hours to meet this guy:

Ah. Now I have your attention. Stay tuned for the whole story. There's adventure, mystery, getting almost lost. And that was just leaving my driveway.

Rocks, paper, scissors

If you're looking for something out of the ordinary to do this weekend, try the Stone Tools Expo at Lake Thunderbird.  (My thanks to my friend Kyle for telling about it!)

They come with tipis and tents, trucks and tarps. They're a group of folks who have a hankering to hit on rocks. To gather together and knap. They're knappers. I'm a napper, too. Every day after lunch.

They make arrowheads, hatchets, knives-or points, they call them-of all sizes and materials. I saw flint, agate, obsidian, and even glass points.

The blue glass one. Gorgeous. I drool. I covet. I lust.

Knapper Travis gave me a great history lesson on the tools and their modern day versions.

Along with the knappers are bowiers and peltiers. (I'm not making this stuff up.)  These are the woodsmen of our time. Tools made from antlers. Fur clothing and bags. Leather goods.

I think this is the cap you wear when you want people to leave you alone...

And then there was a softer, gentler craft. Just as gorgeous. Handmade quilts.

Of course, if you wanted amenities, you could 'machine' quilt your piece work, with a hand-cranked, 1920s sewing machine!

Back to nature, back to basics. 

             Happy Trails, and may all your adventures rock!!!

Looking for my slot in life

Someone asked me what kind of blogger I was (kind of a personal question, dontcha think?!) 

I know what kind of blogger I'm not. I'm not a food blogger.  If food takes longer to prepare than it does for me to eat it, I'm not interested. Unless someone else is doing the preparing.  Then you can pique my interest.

I'm not a political blogger.  I do have opinions on politics.  I even claim party affiliation. But politics do not lend themselves to a family channel. At least not the way I do politics.

I'm not a sports blogger. Definitely not.  The only comments I can conjure doing sporting events are pass the peanuts (baseball) and words that can't be printed here (OU football).  'Nuff said.


Mom blogger.  Yes, definitely mom blogger because my children say I am. They affirm it like this: "Mother, if you take one more picture of me for that blog, I'm going to break your dang camera!"  Hmmm, well I think I'm a mom blogger 'cause I talk a lot about these.  I mean, how could I not talk about these?  These are the cutest things ever:

That one on the left- I gotta keep an eye on her.  She insisted the other day that I do a whole series of photos of her with red food coloring dripping down her face, in various poses of 'dead'.  It was eerily, grossly, totally realistic and I refuse to show them here.  When I asked why she was doing this, her answer was "I'm practicing being an actress."  For what?! HORROR FILMS?  I really don't always understand how her mind works, but I find it fascinating. Scary, but fascinating. The kid on the right is a little easier.  She thinks about shoes.  And books.  I can relate to shoes and books.


I'm a nature blogger, 'cause I include a lot of pictures about this.  Sometimes because it's the only thing I can think of to do.  Blogging is hard! My creative strings are often stretched to the breaking point. Or maybe that's my last nerve.

I'm kind of a book blogger, 'cause I have opinions on these, and I share them with you:

And possibly in the broad sense (sense of the term, not in the sense of me being broad, although if I keep sitting in this chair blogging all day...) I'm a lifestyles blogger, because stuff like this creeps in all the time too:

Why isn't there a 'wife blogger' category?  Someone explain that please!  Spouse blogger?  Marriage blogger?  Philo would say I'm a blogger, an obsessive one.  Obsessive blogger, yes that works for a category.  "Honey, when's dinner?"  "When  I finish this blog, dear."  Uh, Hon, the sun's about to come up, how's that blog coming along?

Ooooohh, oooooh and don't forget travel blogger!  No, probably better make that adventure blogger. A travel blogger could give you directions to the good hotels and restaurants.

So, I've decided my official classification is now OMNIBLOGGER. Please, you don't have to bow.  Oh, oh you're going to anyway, well alright then. Yes, OMNIBLOGGER.  I think I found my pigeonhole.

  Happy Trails, and may your adventures be of the wonderful kind!