Paddling the Buffalo National River with Sherman's Gang

     The more I visit Arkansas, the more I fall in love with this state. It's known as "The Natural State", and has beautiful natural waterfalls. This is Twin Falls located in the Buffalo National River Wilderness Area  (photo by Sherman).

      This past week, I was on the Buffalo River in Ozark Country with Sherman's Gang. I first met Sherman's Gang last year (click here for my original post). I met up again with Sherman's Gang last September and paddled the Meramec River with them (click here for that post).  So when I was invited to join them again for the Fourth Annual Buffalo River Trip, I said "I'll be there!"

     The gang rented Paradise View Cabin. This was our view from the porch.

I camped next to the cabin in La Lair.

     This group shot below is me with Sherman's Gang when we put-in at Kyles Landing -- not pictured are Sherman who took photo, and Tak who couldn't make it this year due to knee surgery.  I was in good hands with these guys!

Left to right, Dave, Abe, Jim, me, Scott, and Sherman's son Scott.

     Instead of paddling my little wave ski, I doubled-up with Abe in Dave's donated tandem canoe (see Sherman's photo below). Dave, by the way, was a Boy Scout and is organized and prepared for everything. Need something? He's probably got it.

     There were many beautiful outcroppings along the way. That's Jim in photo below. Jim by the way can fill-in missing information with factual knowledge; he's the gang's respectable "go-to guy" for any inquiries.

     The water looks green-blue because it's spring water. Below photo, that's Abe approaching a manatee . . . just kidding!  Abe by the way is a natural-born entertainer who's multi-lingual (including gibberish with an Ethiopian accent). He can be delightfully silly. For our gang's entertainment, he play-acted his tea parties with his two little girls -- I'm sure his girls adore him.

Some of the outcroppings were magnificently high.

It was a beautiful float.

     And beautiful weather for it too. That's the other Scott in below photo. He's an enthusiastic supporter of the U.S. Adventure Racing Club Association and has won several of their events. Nothing intimidates Scott; he's usually the first to attempt something daring.

Ledges like the one below called for jumps. Jim spotted . . .

. . . while both Scotts jumped. The "Adventure Racing" Scott jumped backwards of course.

     The river was Class II in some parts followed by calm parts. Here's a tricky "Class II" situation which got my partner Abe's heart throbbing big time! Jim took this photo.

     Another tricky Class II situation (downed trees/roots and strainers from a recent rainstorm) spilled Sherman's son Scott in his kayak, but he only lost his hat during that very cold bath. Scott by the way is the perfect straight-man to his dad Sherman's comedic antics.

Two Northern River Snakes mating on a log . . . this is Jim's photo.

We spent one night along the river. This is the guys' tents.

And this is my Spartan "tent" (a tarp over a guard rail). Managed to sleep solid about five hours.

Back on the river the next morning, more beautiful outcroppings to the end of our 21-mile adventure at Hasty.

And beautiful Northern Maidenhair Ferns along the shoreline.

Besides paddling the river, we also hiked to Glory Hole (click here for description). That's "Adventure Racing" Scott in photo below.

That water eventually ends up down below in a grotto-type cave where we took this group shot.

     Top from left to right, Abe, Sherman, Sherman's son Scott. Kneeling, left to right, Dave, me and the other Scott. Jim had to get his flat tire fixed so he missed this hike.

The Prairie Spiderwort is a pretty little violet flower among all the greenery.

     Also took a hike to Eden Falls on the Lost Valley Trail (click here for description). Saw this little millipede.

Admired the star-burst shaped moss. . . and colorful rock lichen.

See this sign?

I'm the only one who obeyed it . . . . that's Sherman's son Scott below.

     Sherman joked that he lost his "souls" on the Lost Valley Trail. He had to return to the trailhead before seeing the Falls at the end of the hike. Sherman, by the way, is the main man who organizes his friends all year for kayaking and other exploits outside. He's the drummer that keeps an ensemble of players cohesive.

     Near the end of this hike is Eden Falls. It's creates a great pool for jumping (if you don't mind frigid water). Everyone but me jumped in. That's "Adventure Racing" Scott in photo below; photo taken by Sherman's son Scott.

At the top of Eden Falls, up a steep trail, is a dripping wet cave. It's very slippery and treacherous. I didn't go in, but both Scotts ventured all the way back on their hands and knees. 

     At the end of the pitch-black dark cave is a beautiful water fall, which can be illuminated with headlamps or artificial lights (click here for photo submitted by unknown person on the Internet).

     When we returned from one of our hikes to our parked trucks at the trailhead, we met this interesting group of dual-sport motorcyclists from the Atlanta, Georgia area.

     The second guy from the right, Nate, is on his way to the tip of South America. The others are following the Trans-American Trail. They were as friendly as they look; a very refreshingly polite group of youngsters.

By the end of the week with Sherman's Gang, I had definitely "earned" this badge of honor!

Sherman's Gang was wonderful comradery for me. They all treated me with TLC, I felt 30 years younger! and I made lifelong very good friends :)

PS: click here for Scott's beautiful photos.  And for Jim's photos, click here.

Cold Springs in Hot Springs, Arkansas

     From central Louisiana, I programmed my GPS the shortest way to Hot Springs, Arkansas. Surprisingly, most of the roads were designated as "Heritage Civil War Trails" and "Arkansas Scenic 7 Byway". The entire drive was scenic and pleasurable; mostly wooded, hilly roads. And best of all, I had the roads practically to myself.

     But the only springs I visited once in Hot Springs, Arkansas, were cold ones . . .  they were all trickling down the Gulpha Gorge, filling the Gulpha Creek.

     I drove past the famous "Bathhouse Row". But, illogical street designs, traffic, tourists and archaic coins for parking meters discouraged my curiosity. Instead I took advantage of a cool sunny Tuesday morning to hike a nearby 3-mile loop. It began at this Gulpha Creek stepping stone bridge at the Hot Springs National Park.

     I passed these folks, about a dozen who all looked my age, at the start of the loop trail. But they took a left, and I took a right.

     The Gulpha Gorge Trail is aptly named; high canyon-like rock walls next to the trail (lower right photo is the trail).

    The Goat Rock Trail is also aptly named; very rocky and steep (far left is the trail). Those yellow flowers, by the way, are blooming a month earlier than normal, according to two hikers (local women, about my age) who frequently walk trails at the Park.

Observation deck on the Goat Rock Trail . . . . great view.

     Once out of the gorge and over the ridge line of the North Mountain, the scenery and footing changed. I revelled in all the fantastic greenery.

     I again passed the same senior group near the end of the loop, and realized they had walked the same loop in reverse. They took the very steep heart-throbbing way up and the slow incline down. I had taken the slow incline up and the very steep way down because I'm a wuss.

     Alittle chit-chat reveals they're members of the Ouachita Mountain Hikers Club and live in the Hot Springs area. Oh, so you all hike every Tuesday morning, I asked? No, they replied, three times a week if possible, even in winter months!

     Rainy weather was forecasted (again!). Didn't want to be in town, so I continued on the Scenic 7 Byway north to River Road Campground at Nimrod Lake near the dam (click here for map location). There were two locations to camp, one below the dam where there were posted signs about sirens warning of high-water dangers, and one above the dam. Decided to camp above the dam to be on the safe side!

     And it did rain most of the next day and the next evening and the following day, followed by a windy cold front.  La Lair and this Airstream had the 21-campsite place to ourselves.  

     My head was singing Van Morrison's song "Days Like This" while I busied myself inside La Lair, reading two books, playing chess, cooking (invented "non-gluten pizza soup"), quicky bike ride between two storms. But fortunately, I had electricity and heat.

Louisiana . . . Laa Dee Daa

     Adios East Texas, Bonjour Central Louisiana! This is my third summer on the road with La Lair, and it still feels like a honeymoon.  I love my diesel van; during the winter, it's a tack room and tows my horse Topaz in a trailer . . .

And during the summer, it's an RV on the back roads of the USA. Last week after cleaning out the horse hairs, I packed La Lair for another five months of adventure. Topy came to my front door to say goodbye.

     My first campground was about 200 miles east of my cottage; Kincaid Lake Recreation Area (click here for map) which is located in the Kisatchie National Forest.

     Unlike most artificial lakes that are noisy with speed boats, Kincaid Lake has too many stumps/snags to go fast. Boaters here motor slowly and carefully while fishing.

     There's something about Louisiana that makes me say "Laa dee daa".  I say it with the same inflection as Dianne Keaton in the movie "Annie Hall."  I'm not sure why. From the moment I crossed the Texas border into Louisiana and took notice max speeds were 45 and 55 mph (instead of Texas' 65 and 75 mph), I smiled and said "Laa dee daa".

     Louisiana's back country roads are interesting. I passed a convoy of over 100 mud-caked RVs and flat-bed trailers with muddy big-tire custom-made vehicles (like the clean one pictured below). They were heading home from a weekend at Louisiana's Annual Mud-Fest.

   There's still the occasional Antebellum mansion. This one is now a wedding and party facility, Juliette's Antebellum Mansion in Boyce.

     I haven't done a long hike since last summer. So I decided to do an "easy" 9-mile Kincaid Lake Loop Trail (click here for trail map). It's a typical southern Piney Woods environment. The trail was wonderful; it's a well-marked, well-maintained path of pine needles on soft sand, no rocks.

     When I trot with Topy on woodsy trails at home (East Texas, very similar to central Louisiana), I don't get off the saddle to notice and wonder about the little things. Such as, why do leaf cutter ant colonies choose red dirt? I passed several of these colonies and they had all excavated red dirt.

     The gentle sound of lapping water around the lake shore made interesting sand ripples underwater.

     See the insects on the petals? What flower is this?

     What orange flower is this?

    The trail isn't boring. I think it's an excellent sampling of central Louisiana's flora and fauna. There were signs at the trailhead "Do not feed alligators", "If you see feral hogs, do not provoke, turn around and walk away", laa dee daa.

    I confess I intentionally provoked this little guy.

     There was a long boardwalk over a boggy area; saw no snakes or alligators.

     These pony-tail shaped saplings from 3 to 6 feet tall are Longleaf Pine trees and when mature, they'll be at least 70 feet tall. They're indigenous to this area including East Texas.

     The Longleaf is often confused with the Loblolly Pine, but there's no mistaking the Longleaf pinecone, it's much larger. Another major difference is the Longleaf Pine lives longer than other southern pines.

    I passed hundreds of young and mature magnolia trees, many with blooms. Their immense flower petals fell on the trail. This is just one petal; as big as my hand.

     Does anyone know, what are these dirt towers?

     And what is this pretty yellow fungi on a dead log?

     Laa dee daa, Spanish Moss draped over magnolia trees everywhere . . . .

     This dinner plate has been pecked over thoroughly . . . .

     My reward for finishing nine miles? A blood-filled blister on my little toe.