2/1/99 The alarm went off very early, and even though it was still dark out, it was obvious that there were clouds dancing around outside. The fog had lifted, which allowed about a dozen little clouds room to play around in the valleys. There was no sunrise. But there were lots of birds - several of them at each feeder. My poor feeders. They had really taken a beating in the wind the last couple of weeks. Both of them had been blown right off of their perches. I will look into moving them to new spots.

My friend and I had spent a nice weekend at the cabin, but we both had places to go and things to do, so we didn't get to enjoy much of the new day, or the new month. I stayed behind and did a few quick chores, and then got to thinking about my dad. It would have been his 86th birthday today, and he would have loved the cabin. Probably would not have been able to get him to leave. I vowed to live the entire month in his honor.

As I left the cabin and drove through Boxley Valley on my way to Jasper to access my new car, I passed three big bull elk in a hay field. Standing right next to them on the ground were two bald eagles having breakfast. Yep, it was going to be a great month.

2/4/99 It was late when I bounced on down the little road to the cabin, after dark. Remember the TRAILSIDE episode that was shot at the cabin back in October? It has been airing nationally this month, and there was a special showing of it on the Arkansas Educational Television Network, plus a live call in segment at the studio in Conway with me and Tom Aston (the river guide for the show) and Joe David Rice, Director of Tourism for Arkansas. The show turned out pretty good, except for the acting of that trail guy from Cloudland. The first several opening scenes were shot at the cabin, and included the front drive, and a couple of scenes of us on the lower deck in back, looking out over the scenery.

We got a ton of phone calls during the show from all over the state, and had some fun with it all. The only problem that we had was that we all got plastered with MAKEUP -YUK! Now I understand why I am attracted to women who don't wear makeup - how in the world could anyone wear that stuff all over their face all day every day? And the other problem was that the good folks at PBS lied to me - my only pay for doing the five-day shoot was going to be a plug for my hiking trail guidebooks at the end of the TRAILSIDE program - nothing, not a word, phone number or anything. Nothing that I can do about it now, but I will certainly think twice about ever helping them out with anything again.

There must have been one big blow at the cabin the morning before - the weather station clocked the wind at 44mph at 12:38am. Both of the bird feeders had been blown off of their posts, smashing the bottom of one. I put them back in place, and added a bit of feed to one. Oddly, none of the outdoor furniture had been upset. Perhaps I have finally figured out where to put everything to keep it in place.

The sky was clear at Cloudland, and I was in for a treat soon after I arrived. While I was out in the swing on the back deck, trying to get the thought and feel of that makeup out of my system, there was a hush that came over the wilderness. I think that the river even stopped roaring for a few seconds. Up on top of the ridge across the river, a bright yellow moon peered through the winter treeline, casting brightness and joy as far as you could see. It was one terrific moonrise! There were a few start out too, although it wasn't long before several cloud banks rolled in and covered everything up.

2/5/99 Sunrise! Blue skies, white light, no wind. Winter sunrises are always special. And when I went downstairs, I found a couple of dozen birds at the feeders - the most that I had seen here before at the feeders. Even they seemed to enjoy the sunshine. It was a quick trip for me, and I was soon headed back to town.

2/6/99 Fog today, and warm, very warm. It was late morning when I arrived. There was a note from a couple of Forest Service folks at the front door. I wonder if they filled up the registration boxes with cards and pencils while they were out here? There looked to be a bunch of cars down at Bob's cabin when I drove by. I think someone is having a birthday party today.

The cabin was COLD! At least compared to the outside temp. And it was a very sharp cold too. When I looked at the weather station, I realized that it was 56 degrees inside - not very cold at all - but it was 64 degrees outside. The humidity was 96% outside and 57% inside. I opened up a couple of windows and the two doors on the main level, hoping to warm up the cabin a little. The wind was blowing pretty good. Within a few minutes I realized that I was not only letting in warm air, but a great deal of moisture as well - the floor became wet with the humidity, so much so that I could see tracks on the floor where I had walked! I quickly closed the doors and windows.

It really felt warm outside, and the breeze was nice. After unpacking the truck and putting things away, I got on my overalls and boots, grabbed a handful of tools, and headed down into the meadow below. The wind had blown most of the fog away. My job today was to build a trail down the hillside and into the meadow, then along the bench there so that one could visit all of the wildflowers that would be popping up this summer. The soil was great, and the rocks were loose, so the digging was not too bad.

There were lots of birds darted around in the trees nearby, and some of them hung out at the feeders. Once, while I was taking a break (when you take a break at Cloudland, you are most likely looking out at the view), a big red tailed hawk came soaring by. He was a beautiful bird, and was having a good time playing up in the wind currents. There was no sun to light up his red tail feathers, but the color glowed a little anyway. I only saw him for a few minutes, then he moved on up the valley.

Within a couple of hours I had the main part of the trail complete, down to the flat area of the meadow. Then I cut out a narrow path along the level that went to the far end of the meadow, passing through the middle of the remains of the wild sunflowers from last summer. I had to walk it several times just to see how it worked - it passed the test just fine. Once the wildflowers get up, it will be a nice little stroll down through the meadow. I may even put a picnic table over on the eastern edge where we can have a picnic in the wildflowers and look down at the river. One trail down, one more to go this weekend.

It took a long, hot shower to scrape off all of the mud, but I did succeed, then got to work on cleaning up the cabin - needed lots of vacuuming. Then I installed a big photograph up in the loft - polished river rocks in the Cascades. It is one of the special digital prints that I have started getting made. Very nice. Like the other framed photographs in the cabin, this one is matted with white and framed in basic black.

It was cold in the cabin once again, at least compared to what it was outside. And the humidity was low again, 61%, vs. 97% outside. I opened the two doors and watched the humidity gauges. Within five minutes, it was 76% humidity inside! I closed up the doors again - another layer of humidly had formed on the floor.

The fog rolled back in again, and it began to rain. Light rain at first, the it got heavy for a little while. I uncovered the BBQ grill and cooked a couple of veggie burgers for an early dinner. Geeze, after eating two of them on these big buns, with cheese and salsa, I was one stuffed puppy! I could hardly move. It is at those times that I know I must get up and move. And with thick fog outside, and the temp still up in the 60's, I just had to get out and hike.

I put on a t-shirt and my rain jacket, and thin pants. It was raining lightly, and the wind was blowing pretty good - felt great. Couldn't find any critters out stirring - they must have all been blown away. It was getting dusky dark as I got to the Faddis Cabin. Someone was there - a guy was outside getting bucket of water from the hand-dug well. I walked right on by and he never noticed me. I didn't recognize him or his car. Must have been someone from the birthday bash.

I took the trail down towards the Crag, but then veered off and bushwhacked on down the hillside. It was quiet, and soft underfoot, and the rain had stopped. Still lots of wind.

The Crag was deserted, as I expected, but the view was stunning. The sky was getting a dark grey, and the hillside across the way was beginning to fade some. I turned towards home and picked up the pace. As I got near the cabin, I looked up and saw the big silhouette looming above. I made my way on over to the new trail, and took it through the dried wild sunflowers - geeze, some of them were seven feet tall! The rest of the trail wound round through the meadow, then on up the hillside. Not a work of art - yet - but very functional.

When I got to the top of the trail, I spent a few minutes in the fading light figuring out a route for the little trail that I had to build the next day. This one would drop down from each end of the lower deck (the one next to the basement) and go below the big lower deck, then back up again to the other side. It would visit the ferns and other stuff under the deck, the herb garden, as azaleas and other misc. stuff on the steep and rocky hillside.

I sat out on the back porch swing and listened to a barred out calling out across the way on Beagle Point. Haven't heard many of them this winter. And then a big bat came cruising by. This guy was being tossed around a bit by the gusting winds, but did manage to keep himself on some sort of reasonable course (how can you really tell with a bat?). The wind eventually carried him up and away. The warm breezes rocked me into a little nap. When I awoke, it was pitch black outside. And it had started raining again, and I was getting wet.

The computer was my home for a couple of hours as I worked on the journal, answered e-mail and listened to The Pickin' Post on the radio. A storm raged on outside, with winds up into the 30's, and even some lightening. It was a real summer thunderstorm! In February. The radio station got blasted, and went off of the air for a time. Then the power went off at the cabin - my backup battery performed great, and the computer hummed right on along.

As the evening drew on, the storm got worse, a lot worse. Both of the bird feeders got blown off or their perches, and I had to get out into the raging rain and rescue them. Top wind of 36mph. Lots of flashes, and boom, boom, boom.

Soon after I had crawled into bed and dozed off, I was literally blown awake by a giant explosion somewhere near down in the valley. The cabin shook. So did I for a second - a chill ran down my spine. Then another big crash went off, at the same time as the bright flash. The cabin shook again, and there was another chill. I doubt that a louder noise had ever happened in this valley before. It rained hard. I opened the window a little, and drifted back to sleep to the sounds of the rain and the wind and the river.

Sometime during the night I was blasted awake once again by Mother Nature, but this time is was a bright light that woke me, not noise. I opened my eyes and was nearly blinded by the moon - it had already risen above the hillside, but had just broke through a clearing sky. I couldn't believe it - only a few short dreams ago it was pouring and booming and flashing, and now the sky was full of moonlight and stars. What a quick change! The moon was a welcome sight, but I had to roll over and get out of its way before I could go back to sleep. Oh yea, and the moon had lit up the new picture on the wall - those rocks looks interesting in the moonlight.

2/7/99 The eastern horizon glowed orange and blue about 30 minutes before sunrise. It looked like a bright sunny day was near. But before the sun could get to the horizon, a dense cloudbank drifted in, and there was no sunrise. I went back to sleep, and didn't wake up again until 9 o'clock. It was a very grey day outside, but the wind wasn't blowing much. 50 degrees, 1.7" of rain during the night.

As I sat out on the back deck with my Starbucks (had to wipe the rain off of the chair), a shaft of sunshine broke through the clouds. It slowly made its way across the wilderness below. It was like a spot light, in reverse, coming down from the heavens. It searched the hills and valleys, back and forth, and seemed to be looking for something.

The river below was not only roaring, but it had turned a different color. It wasn't exactly muddy, although I'll bet many area rivers and streams were this morning because of all the hard rain. It was more of a khaki color. I think that is partly because of the increased amount of ground up rocks - tiny particles suspended in the raging water - that the fast moving river creates. The river could be seen way up the valley. I'll bet it was high enough to float.

Several more spot lights searched the wilderness, but mostly the sky remained dark grey. That figures - the weather forecast was for clear, sunny skies all day.

A few little birds flew by and complained to me - their feeders were still in hiding from the storm. I put them up, and within two minutes they had customers. Lots of juncos out this morning.

I retreated to the cabin and wrote some and listened to Ozarks At Large on KUAF. I love this radio program, but don't always get to listen to it on Friday night. A little different version is aired on Sunday morning.

Right outside my window, a male downy woodpecker landed on a branch and began to peck at it. He stayed there for awhile, and I soon got interested in what he was pecking at and got out the telescope to get a good look. At first he was peeling of the thin bark of the small branch that he was perched on. He wasn't eating the bark, just knocking it off. Then he stepped back and started digging into a small hole in the branch - there must have been some good stuff in there, because he spent a long time digging and eating whatever he came out with. Every time that he would trust his head and beak into the hole, his entire body would shake and quiver. He stepped up and pecked a little more bark off of the branch (I never could figure out why he was doing this, unless he was starting a new hole, although he never did dig into the limb, just peeled off the bark). Then he stepped back two paces and started pecking into another small hole that he had been standing over. I guess this was his own private little feeding spot. He turned and looked me right in the eye (I guess he was looking into the telescope's eye, not mine), then flew off. This little bird has an intricate pattern of black and white all over, and just a single band of bright red across the back of his head.

Finally, all of my indoor chores were done, and I went back down below outside to dig. I wanted to build the little trail that would visit the ferns and other stuff that we are going to plant under the deck. The digging was easy, and before long I had half of the trail complete. As I worked, a group of buzzards gathered. Hum. After close inspection, I found that these were not the normal turkey vultures that hang around here, but black vultures instead - they had black feathers covering their heads instead of the red skin of the turkey ones. I dug on.

My work was interrupted a couple of times by screams from high above - hawks! At first there was only one, then two, and finally a third. They soared in a circle, climbing ever so slowly. It was great to see them back again. And the buzzards too.

The sun did come out, around noon, and it didn't take long for blue sky to dominate. It got a little warm, but felt great. Of course, I was forced to sit down on the hillside and nap every now and then. I didn't eat lunch, but snacked several times. One of my favorite mid-day snacks is Fuji apple slices and pimento cheese spread. Doesn't sound all that good, but for some reason, these two flavors blend together quite well.

I was getting stereo river all day long - both the Buffalo and Whitaker Creek were roaring. And all of that water really lit up when the sun came out. "Come down and visit. Come down and visit" echoed through the valley. I am weak. I dropped my digging tool and headed down the ladder trail.

The roar of the river grew louder and louder as I approached. Yikes, Whitaker Creek was really running - high and fast! It was clear, and wonderful. There were waterfalls and whitewater everywhere.

And then I walked right into the magic. Rain, warm temps, afternoon sunshine, February - could only mean one thing - WITCH HAZEL! The fragrance was overwhelming. Super sweet and delicate all at the same time. I laid down in the leaves next to the raging stream in the sunshine and took the heavy air deep in my lungs. Oh god, nothing else in the world like this. Visions of dancing ladies and color and money and chocolate, lots of chocolate, all ran through my head. No, they don't smell like Witch Hazel, but the wonderful fragrance does trigger all of the pleasing cells in your brain, and all kinds of great stuff jumps out.

I didn't get to dream very long, and soon was headed back up the hillside to get back to work. All of these distractions! I wouldn't have it any other way.

I did get the little trail complete - looks and walks just fine. And got some more wood split, and lined part of the lower trail with rocks to define it a little. So I spent most of the day outside, soaking up the sunshine, and the Witch Hazel, and listening to the hawks and the rivers.

Later in the afternoon, clouds moved back in again, the breeze picked up, and it began to cool off some. With my work done, I headed out for an evening walk. The woods were quiet, but I didn't see any critters out. As I was on my way back to the cabin, the clouds behind me really lit up. In fact, there was one incredible light show! There were bands of yellow and orange and red, alternating with blue. It was wonderful. I had to stop and sit down just to take it all in. Within a few minutes it was all over, and I was left there in the dark with another terrific memory. And no flashlight. But I did make it back to the cabin, quickly packed my things up and headed to town. Another fine Cloudland weekend.

2/10/99 Dr. Neil Compton, the man who founded the Ozark Society and is credited with saving the Buffalo River from destruction and leading the fight to get it established as America's first National River, died this afternoon after a massive heart attack. He had just led a hike to a cave near Jasper a couple of days before. He was 86 years old, and still in pretty good health for his age, and very sharp mentally. No one person, nor group of people, have done more to protect and promote the Ozarks than Neil Compton. He is the sunshine that lights up the wilderness. And while he may have left us, his efforts will continue to light the way for generations to come. Thanks Neil, for all that you have given us. You will be missed.

2/12/99 It was bright and sunny as I returned to Cloudland. This would be a sweet and sour weekend for sure - the wilderness was shining in all its winter glory, and would be warm and inviting, but the lifeblood and spirit of the forest had been snuffed out with Neil's passing. None of the wilderness would have been protected without his efforts.

The weather station showed that a great wind had rumbled through the day after Neil died - 53mph winds were recorded - the second highest ever since May. It had to be Neil letting me know that he was still around.

After a small chore that I had to do at the cabin, I put on my walking boots and headed down the historical ladder trail to the river. There wasn't going to be a public service for Neil at the river, so I decided that I had to go down and have one for myself. It was warm and sunny, and the witch hazel were popping out all over the place along the river. And the river itself was this most incredible teal color, running and playing and singing a peppy tune - it was a glorious day on the Buffalo!

I reached over and snapped off a sprig of bright red and yellow witch hazel, took its sweet smell deep into my lungs, then tossed it out into the river. This was Neil Compton's river for sure. His life would flow in every drop for eternity. I wanted the flower to ride with Neil on down stream a ways. I sat there and thought of my friend, of his life and energy, of all the people that he touched, of all the joy and happiness that he had given and would continue to give to millions of folks, and of the wilderness, of the wild critters and the flowers and the trees and the stones and the moss-covered boulders and the towering painted bluffs. A red-tailed hawk rode the wind currents high above, and screamed out his own tribute to Neil. I came down to the river not to mourn the loss of my friend, but to celebrate this great man's life and all that he had done. I think that everyone should do this in their own way and on their own time. February 10th will always be remembered at Cloudland, but so will August 1st, Neil's birthday. And I plan to lead a hike on that day every year, down to the river, and to throw a polished stone into a still pool and watch it come to life. Good-bye Neil. Thanks for who you were. For the values that you stood for. And for what you left behind.

The hike back up the hillside was nearly painless, and silent, except for my heavy breathing. Once I got up the ladder and on top of the bluff, I hiked on over to the Crag. Hawksbill Crag is not part of the Buffalo National River, but Neil Compton certainly had a great deal to do with it being protected. He told me once that during his first trip there in the 1970's how he found a pile of "the scat of a large cat," which he collected and sent off and had analyzed. It turned out to be that of a cougar. Neil is a little like a cougar, and he will live on in all of them. I have not seen one out here, but will look forward to the day when I come face to face with one. I won't be afraid - Neil will be inside. I sat there on the Crag and soaked up the end of the day, then made my way back to the cabin.

It had gotten a little cool outside, and I had a good fire going in the fireplace when my lady friend drove up just after dark. She had been down in South Texas visiting her mom for a week, and was glad to be back up in the hills, and in the cool weather. Or maybe the big smile on her face was just for the Cloudland pizza that was in the oven! It was clear and dark outside, but with a million stars shining.

2/13/99 The sun broke over the hill early and lit up the wilderness. Still clear blue skies. The temp was in the low 30's. No birds. We stood in front of the fire and had toasted blueberry bagels and coffee, and a wonderful fresh fruit mixture of apples, peaches, pears, and mangos. The mangos were especially good! A bright flash of red flew past the window - a pileated woodpecker stopped by to see what we were having for breakfast. Then we suited up and drove away to a remote trailhead for a day of hiking. There were lots of hawks hanging out in the trees along the road.

We began our hike at the Boen Gulf Trailhead. The first thing that we found was a mud puddle with a big glob of frog eggs in it. Half of the glob was sticking up out of the water and was frozen, and the other half was OK. I wondered if the frozen guys would survive. We followed an old log road into the wilderness and down into the Boen Gulf drainage. We passed a small group of OHTA hikers that were setting up camp near the creek. They had gotten an early start, and were going to spend the weekend exploring around the area. Our goal was to follow the creek all the way down to the Buffalo River, then figure out a different way back to the car.

The creek was flowing pretty good, as it tumbled over moss-covered boulders into quiet pools. We came to a witch hazel bush almost immediately. It was still pretty cool, but the yellow flowers were putting out some very nice fragrance. I reached over and snipped off a spring, and tossed it into the moving water. Another nod to Neil Compton. The more we walked, the more witch hazel we found. One tree after another after another. And they all seemed to be calling out to me to snip off part of them and send them off down the creek, all wanting to become a part of the Compton memorial. I tried to reassure them that their fragrant blooms and brilliant flowers and sturdy foothold at the creek's edge would be monuments in themselves. How can you tell if a tree understands? I think they did.

The hillside next to the stream was pretty steep, but the earth was soft from recent rains and our boots dug in and grabbed hold easily. At one point, as we were hiking across a level bench with my friend in the lead, she quite literally walked right into a screech owl. Really. The little bird was perched at about head level in a small tree. She didn't see him. I'm sure the owl saw her coming, but refused to move, assuming that the would veer off. It wasn't until she moved into the little tree that the owl decided it was time to get the heck out of there. It was quite a sight from my perspective as the little tree that she was walking through came to life and there was all this commotion. The owl flew off and landed in another tree a few feet away, and looked at us with disbelief. We looked at the owl with the same expression I'm sure. After collecting himself, he flew off up into a tall tree.

There were a number of giant boulders in the streambed, great slabs of rock that tumbled down from the bluff up above. One group of these boulders formed one of the most beautiful pools of turquoise water that I have ever seen in the Ozarks - it was spectacular! I don't know how deep it was, but certainly was way over my head, and it was about 40-50 feet in diameter, with a waterfall pouring into one end of it. And there was one big flat rock slab on the lower side that would make a perfect sunning area. Had it been a few degrees warmer, we probably would have stripped off and jumped in. This is one terrific pool! I shall return and take a few pictures with things green up some.

As we continued downstream, we passed through an area full of giant sycamore trees. We tried to reach around one of them, but couldn't, even with both of our wingspans - it had to be 12 feet around or more. And towering high above. The stream had gotten rather tame down below. And quiet. The hillsides above were carpeted with thick moss and ferns. One big rock slab had about five or six different kinds of ferns growing on it. And a number of dormant wildflowers too - couldn't figure out what kind they were.

Back down in the streambed, I found a flat rock that was covered with an incredible pattern of lichens. The bright green ones were outlined with a black border, and were growing in between dozens of white lichens. It all looked like a patchwork quilt, or an aerial photograph of farm country, with the individual fields outlined. I didn't have my good camera with me, but I certainly will return and look for this rock again.

My friend found an alder bush/tree. We had seen a number of these on our hikes this year, but just recently figured out exactly what there were. They are quite noticeable because the plant has both male and female parts, which look a little weird growing right next to each other on the same branch.

At one point the river went underground, only to surface again a few hundred yards downstream as a spring up on the left bank - it was spilling down the hillside over thick moss. We found a giant flat rock slab nearby that was sitting in the stream, and sunny, so we broke there for lunch. The rock itself was cold, but the sunshine helped. My friend had noticed that the portions of chocolate kisses (with almonds) weren't quite equal - I had packed lunch, and had put three in her bag, but somehow 20 of them ended up in mine - I moved some of mine into her bag to keep from being attacked.

After all of the kisses, I laid there on the rock in the sunshine next to my lady companion, with hawks soaring overhead, and the sweet smell of witch hazel everywhere. Gosh, I couldn't think of a better place in the world to be. The temp was in the 50's, although it seemed even warmer.

There were a few more waterfalls and giant boulders and deep pools to explore, then Boen Gulf ended its run at the Buffalo River, which was running fast and loud. The banks were covered with witch hazel, and the fragrance was marvelous. Some of the bushes had flowers that were all yellow. Others the flowers were nearly all red. Most of them had red centers with yellow extensions. These were all "winter" witch hazel bushes/trees, as opposed to the "fall" witch hazel that blooms in Nov.-Dec. And does not have any fragrance.

There was a good view of Cloudland from the mouth of Boen Gulf - it looked pretty darn nice up there on the top of the ridge! We could have easily crossed the river and hiked on back to the cabin, but wanted to circle back and find a new route to the trailhead. So we bid farewell to Boen Gulf and headed up the river. We ran into Dean and Bonnie LaGrone from the OHTA group who had come down the creek behind us. It was a great weekend to be out. A friend of mine, Dave Stahle (one of the world's foremost authorities on aging trees - he has a small cabin nearby up on top), had marked a giant beech tree on the map, so we wandered around some looking for it. While we never did find it, we did come across a HUGE grape vine - it was nearly a foot thick!

A little ways upstream we found a small drainage that was spilling down the steep hillside. We followed it STRAIGHT UP the hill, past many waterfalls. We stopped often to admire the view. Yea, right. At least one of us had to stop and suck in a little air! We finally made it up to the top, and walked through a small valley that had been the home to someone a long time ago - we found an old tin can and a few piles of rocks. It was obvious that the more level areas had been cleared of rocks and farmed. The steeper parts of the area were covered with rocks. It was a nice little hanging valley.

We topped out and headed over to the far side of the ridge. I hadn't been in this area before, but knew from the map where I wanted to go. My plan was to drop down the other side of the ridge and find several nice waterfalls that I had been to once before, then make our way back to the trailhead.

My plans soon got messed up. We realized that if we continued walking in the direction that I had set out for we would end up some place else. We made a correction and continued on. Then we came to an old log road. Something wasn't quite right. I got out the map and studied it. The hills and valleys weren't were they were supposed to be! How could that be? There was an old road marked on the map, but it wasn't going in the right direction. I looked around very puzzled. It just wasn't right. And then I asked my lady friend - and let me tell you that I had to dig way down and get the courage to ask her this - I asked her if she had a compass. A compass? I don't believe in them myself, so I never carry one. After her laughter died down some, she said that she didn't have a compass - a girl after my own heart. What in the world did I need a compass for anyway I thought out loud - there was the sun, right over there, and it was going down, so that must be SW. Duh. I was trying to make the sun be in the wrong place, because the terrain just didn't match where I thought we were. Then it hit me - the map was upside down!!! What an idiot.

We left the ridgetop, dropped on down the hill and came out right on top of the very waterfall that I was hoping to find. Dumb luck for sure. But I had a good laugh on the way down. It was a beautiful open forest with a smooth leaf-covered floor, and a gradually sloping hillside. We were on auto-pilot and enjoying the afternoon and our smooth route. All of a sudden I heard a gasp, and looked over just in time to see my friend collapse to the ground - she had tripped on a grape vine and landed right square on her knees. I just had to laugh. She did too.

The waterfall was gorgeous. It was tall and running wildly, although it appeared right out of a very small drainage - the water was pouring over the main bluffline, and it was quite a fall. The top of the falls was lined with thick moss and lichens, and azaleas. We carefully made our way along the bluffline, threading through the thick stands of azaleas - this place will be quite spectacular in early May when they are in bloom! Then we came to a second falls - very nice as well. And then we came to the creek, right on our level, and a third waterfall. We made our way down through the bluffline and spent some time photographing this falls and the previous one. They both were guarded with azalea bushes, and a few magnolias. I've taken pictures here before, but not when everything was in bloom - this year for sure! This waterfall area does not have a name, but something will pop up one of these years no doubt. We decided that we should call them something very negative like Boring Falls or Rattlesnake Falls or some other term that wouldn't attract a lot of traffic.

From the waterfall area we bushwhacked on up the hillside and found the old log road that we had taken in, and followed it back to the trailhead. There were several other mud puddles with frog eggs in them, and the one that had been frozen had thawed and seemed to be OK. We also found a couple of old bicycles that had been given shallow graves. It was a great hike - I would be back soon, and often.

We were famished when we arrived back at the cabin, and spent about 30 minutes attacking all visible food. Then we retired to the back deck - it looked like it was going to be one terrific sunset, and we were not disappointed. We sat there and sipped wine, as the cloud patterns danced around and changed colors. The only sounds were that of the river far below, and the creaking of my friend's rocking chair. A female downy woodpecker came by to visit, and bravely munched on the peanut better mixture in the feeder right in front of us.

Inside, there were two loaves of 12-grain French bread rising on the mantle. They would come in handy later.

The clouds turned pink, then burnt orange, then brilliant red, all against bands of blue sky. The color lasted a long time. It got a little chilly, and I passed out comforters. We gazed on, until the last wisp of color faded. It was a very peaceful time.

Sunset watching can sure take a lot out of you though, so we got back into the kitchen and prepared a Saturday night feast - Greek pasta, fresh bread with baked garlic, salad, and a bottle of Merlot. A roaring fire, some good blues music on KUAF, and a game or two of Mancala and we were all set. Just another typically wonderful day at Cloudland.

2/14/99 We had already been up for an hour or so by the time the sun peeked up over the ridgetop (hey, it was Valentine's Day, what can I say - and Cloudland is one of the more romantic places in the world if I do say so myself). It was a clear day again, and cold - about 30 degrees. We had blueberry biscuits and Cloudland coffee, then laced up our hiking boots and headed out for a little more hiking.

We drove on over and hiked into Sweden Falls Natural Area. The bluffline there is very nice, but the waterfall is quite impressive! It is one of the taller waterfalls in the region. And since the bluff is so high, it blocks out the sun at this time of the year, and there were a number of ice formations there. We took a few pictures and wandered around and enjoyed the lush moss-covered boulders. This is an unusual area because it is sort of land locked - the Natural Area, which is protected and owned by the State of Arkansas, is completely surrounded by private property, and has no legal access. The folks who live nearby are very nice though, and will usually grant access if you are nice to them. It is one splendid area, although not very large.

We hiked down into another unique little area nearby - Hole In Rock Falls. This spot too is on private property, and there are many cattle grazing in pastures nearby. But it is a very unusual feature, a lot like the Glory Hole, where the water comes pouring down through a hole in the roof of an overhang. Only this spot is much smaller than the Glory Hole, but the water does form a nice waterfall just below the hole, which is interesting.

The sky was blue and without a single cloud when we got back to the cabin. After munching on left over pizza, we decided to play lizards for a little while, and spent a couple of hours sprawled out on the lower deck, soaking up the warm sunshine. When the wind wasn't blowing, it got down right warm. We spent a little time down in the little meadow making final plans for clearing and wildflower seed placement, then packed up and headed back to town.

Time seems to fly by when I am out at Cloudland, but then again that time is usually well spent, as it was this weekend. I got to spend some quality time with my lady friend, and say good-by to Neil. I think I will return again soon!

2/18/99 Snow greeted me on my return to Cloudland. And it was blowing pretty hard. The trees, which were covered on one side only with the white stuff, looked magnificent! The snow was nearly silver. It was possible to look in one direction through the woods and see all brown trees - their bare bark - with a snow-covered forest floor, and then look the other direction and see nothing but snow, snow, snow. And it was still coming down. At first, very fine snow, then the snowdust grew into some pretty good-sized flakes, then back down to dust again.

I stopped by Bob's cabin to steal some sand to mix with two pounds of Ozark Wildflower seeds that I had brought from Holland Wildflower Farm in Elkins. These flowers, along with the wild sunflower population, would form the base of my wildflower meadow down below. As soon as I stepped out of my truck, I fell right on my butt. Very impressive. I wasn't really sure if Bob had any sand or not, but I really needed some, and son of a guy, there was a pile of sand right next to the equipment shed. Right on cue. Things work like that at Cloudland.

The weather station showed the winds at 41mph on the 15th.

A fire was quickly roaring in my cabin, and then I realized that there wasn't much firewood at the cabin. It was about an hour before dark. I had a lot of prep work still to do in the meadow before I could sow the seeds, but it would be PERFECT if I could get the seed out and then let it get snowed on. But it didn't look like I would have the time to get it done, so I played with the split wood piles that dotted the meadow.

I spent a couple of hours moving the piles of wood out of the main meadow area and up onto the base of the hillside, where they would be out of the way, and closer to the cabin. A lot of the wood made it up to the cabin as well. And I got to playing with the rocks in the meadow too. There are lots of rocks there. Some of them highly colored with lichen, and others freshly cut from larger rocks somewhere up the hill. At first I just piled them up here and there, but then I used them to outline yet another little trail that I wanted to develop.

The snow was coming down very fine, but steady. No wind at all. There was the typical low ceiling of clouds hugging some of the hilltops and extending down into the valley way off. But there were also cloud banks forming and moving around in the valleys, just like when it rains. Were these snow banks, or clouds or what? It was very quiet out, and the entire scene was very serine. If you listened real close, you could hear the snow hitting the ground. Very close.

Since it was so warm, about 34, the snow was melting on the ground as fast as it was falling, so there wasn't much of an accumulation - only 1/2 inch or so. But it was great to see snow at Cloudland. And that scene out in the wilderness was wonderful.

I worked until I couldn't see to walk any more. I was a mess from head to toe. Hauling snow-covered wood around is not too clean. But I got an idea. I have always wanted a "mud room" out here, but just didn't work it into the design of the cabin. How about using the front part of the basement, by the outside door? Yep, I think that will work. Uh oh, I may have to get out the pencil and come up with a layout for walls and such. Or perhaps just put a different floor and some seats in that area and leave everything open like it is now. Right now the mud room is also the main entrance to the cabin, and not a very good place for muddy boots and filthy clothes.

It seemed like a chili night, so I warmed up some of my left over veggie chili. I must say that this stuff is one of those foods that is not better the second time - needs to be fresh. As I sat down at the computer to write, all of my kitchen chores done for the night, I had a sudden flash of despair - I was stranded out here without a single piece of chocolate! How could I have overlooked that? Then I had a thought. There is a tupperware thing in the pantry, and I have been putting treats in there for a couple of months now. I didn't remember anything chocolate that would be in there - mostly just hard candy - but much to my surprise, I discovered Hershey's Kisses - half of the bag that we started on last week! Man, there was a lot of them - I had hit the motherload. And almonds too. Now, if it could just snow a foot tonight...

Sometime during the night, I was up feeding the fire, and looked out and found a million stars out - no clouds at all. But the temp was still in the low 30's.

2/19/99 It was grey and dark and cloudy when the sun was supposed to come up. It wasn't snowing outside, but the ground was still covered with snow, so it was all white out. I hung around the fireplace for an hour or so, waiting for the temp to reach 35. At first, it was so foggy out that I couldn't even see the trees at the edge of the meadow. Gradually the clouds lifted, and before long I could see Beagle Point, then the river, and finally, all of the wilderness. And the sun began to break through, just a little. And the temp hit 35. So I dressed up and went out to work in the meadow.

The snow on the ground hung around for a while, but then all melted in a hurry.

I spent most of the morning moving wood and rocks, and cutting all of the little trees and suckers that had begun to grow in the meadow. Then I got out the rake, and cleared out about 30 or 40 spots down to bare earth - these would be the spots where I would plant wildflower seeds. There was too much space to rake everything, but these smaller areas would eventually spread out (I hoped) and cover up the entire meadow. At last, the meadow was prepped and ready for seed.

But first I went up to Bob's to borrow a little more sand. Then I filled the back of the new truck with hay that Bob had stockpiled at the end of one of his gardens. I saw Eddy Silcott up there. He was just out looking around, and was headed over to try to find the old gay lady community of Sassafras at the end of Cave Mountain. I wished him well.

I mixed up the seed and sand, and started "broadcasting" my precious seeds. It only took me about twenty minutes to get rid of the $150 worth of the seeds. Then I covered it all with a thin layer of the hay, just to keep it all from blowing away. The sun had come out and the sky was mostly clear, and think goodness the wind wasn't blowing. Finally, I had the job complete. A hawk came soaring overhead, just to inspect my work, and to say hello.

A group of young ladies from the Today's Arkansas Outdoor Women's Network was coming out to spend the weekend, and have a planning session for their group for the rest of the year. So I spent a little time getting the cabin in shape, then I packed up my stuff and headed back into town - had a dinner date to go to a sushi bar.

2/20/99 While I wasn't at the cabin this day, I did hear that my guests enjoyed themselves, and got a lot of "mental" work done. I don't normally allow guests at the cabin without me being here, but this group was an exception, and I was glad to have them.

2/21/99 It was a little chilly and mostly cloudy when I arrived back at the cabin around noon. My guests were all packed up and leaving. The cabin smelled like they had been cooking all weekend - marvelous fragrance! It didn't take long for the sun to burn off most of the clouds, but it remained cool all afternoon, in the 30's.

I spent a couple of hours in the afternoon building a wood frame for a darkroom that I had set up in one of the spare bathrooms in my house in Fayetteville - all of my tools are now at the cabin, so I am forced to do all of my wood working at the cabin. What a delight! The sun felt great, and I worked down on the back deck. I used the lumber that we ripped out of the guest room closet on New Years Day - had to remove a few nails first, but the boards were just fine.

Once my little chore was done, I had to take a nap on the couch. The sunlight bounced all around the log walls. It was a good nap.

When I woke up, I realized that the shadows were getting long, so I put on my walking shoes and headed out for a hike. The light was wonderful by the time I reached Hawksbill Crag. There were a couple of guys there who had me take a picture of them. They didn't want to be standing out on the Crag though for some reason, but I did get the Crag in the background, all lit up.

The woods were silent- nothing out stirring, not even the wind. The light grew orange as the shadows lengthened. I walked on up to the Faddis Cabin and then over towards the East Meadow. I flushed up a woodcock or snipe just before I reached the meadow - couldn't tell which one it was. They both have that long beak. Don't remember seeing either one out here before. Perhaps once before.

No critters in the East Field either, although Benny had been out a few days before and plowed up the big garden there. It was now ready to plant some bear food in it. I wondered if we were going to have the major problems with the bears this new summer like we did last summer. I hoped that just one or two came around, and they would be friendly and non-destructive like my friend from the end of the summer was. I look forward to finding out.

The west side of the cabin was glowing when I got back - the sun was slipping down below the far ridge, and putting on a splendid light display. I hauled up some firewood, then sat in the swing and watched as about a dozen bands of clouds lit up a bright orange.

I had some rice and veggies for dinner, then did a little computer work from a hike that I took early in the week. I am walking the entire length of the Ozark Highlands Trail, making notes and taking pictures of bad spots that need work. Then I transcribe my audio tape and make recommendations, like I did tonight. I'll be heading out to do another long stretch tomorrow. This is actual work for pay, funded by the highway department. I don't mind getting paid to hike once in a while!

As the evening drew on, the stars came out, and so did the moon. Only it was only about a third of a moon, and wasn't too bright. The temp dropped quickly, and soon was in the 20's. The fire felt great, and I took another nap on the couch while listening to some classical music on the radio. After a little more computer work, I called it a night.

2/22/99 When I got up at 5am, there were still lots of stars out playing, but the moon had set. It was rather dark outside. And a wee bit chilly - the temp was 22, and the wind chill brought it down to five below zero. Sounded like a great day for a hike! Somehow my usual dress of shorts and tennis shoes seemed a little under-dressed - I added a pair of poly-pro underwear pants, and a fleece vest. Still not much, but when I do the kind of trail work that I would be doing today (hiking fast), I don't need too much. My goal was to hike 17 miles by 2pm. I had to wheel off the distance as I went, note any bad spots in the trail, and take pictures of all signs and places that needed heavy trail work.

As I drove away from the cabin, there was a glow in the eastern sky, and no clouds anywhere to be seen. I did make my 17 miles by 2pm (1:45), and was rather chilled all day, but I made it just fine. (I drove to the Cherry Bend Trailhead on Hwy. 23, where Hete picked me up and drove me to Salt Fork, which is where I began my hike of the OHT for today.)

2/25/99 We had just made a shuttle for a four-day hike on the OHT, and made our way to the cabin to spend the night before our adventure. It was rather warm when we arrived late in the evening, in the 60's, and damp. No stars out. No moon.

There must have been a few big gusts prior to our visit - one of the bird feeders had been slung off of the spot where it was hanging, and it fell fifteen feet to the ground and crashed into about twenty pieces. Darn wind. Darn me for not having any duck tape at the cabin. I was going to tape down the hanging chain the last time that I was at the cabin, but didn't have the tape. I'll have to move the other feeder to a less violent spot (it had been knocked off of its hanger too, but didn't crash to the ground).

2/26-28/99 It was grey and dreary at dawn, just the way I like my days! We got up and ate a quick breakfast of Cloudland coffee and blueberry biscuits. There wasn't any big fire to stand in front of, since it was so warm. Although it felt a little chilly inside the cabin. It began to sprinkle as we drove away, but that would turn out to be the most precip that we would get on our 50-mile hike, even though the gloom and doom weather people had forecast heavy rain for the next two days.

We headed to the Cherry Bend Trailhead, and headed out on a four-day hike on the OHT, ending at Ozone. It was glorious hiking weather the entire way. The first day was cloudy and damp, but no rain. It did get pretty darn cold when the wind blew. I only had shorts on. We stopped and peaked in the well at Hare Mountain - only about 1/2 full. Herrods Creek, our planned camp for the night, was low enough to cross dry, and since we had only done ten miles by 2pm, we decided to hike on. And so we did.

Even Indian Creek was low enough for us to cross day, which we did, and then made camp for the night nearby, a fourteen mile day. The trail was in pretty good condition. This stretch had been built by our OHTA volunteers way back in 1982 - our first stretch of trail to build.

After dinner, I drew out a pattern on the back of my bandanna, we gathered 48 little stones, and then we played our stones game. She won every game. Hum.

The sun came out the next day, as we made our way through the Marinoni Scenic Area, but it was still breezy and little nippy. There were deer everywhere - we saw singles, pairs, a group of about a dozen, and we even walked right up on three that were still in their beds - it took them about ten long seconds to figure out that they were no longer hidden, and then they were off in a flash. We saw wildlife all day, including a woodcock, and a wholly worm, plus five hikers.

There were also wildflowers popping up - trout lilies mainly, and they looked like they were glad to get out of the ground.

We only did nine miles the second day, because we wanted to spend some time and the night at this wonderful campsite spot - three nice waterfalls, and a wonderful bluffline with a spectacular view of the Little Mulberry River Valley. My companion took a dip in a pool below one of the waterfalls - yikes, it was cold! Then we laid out in the sunshine on the bluff and soaked up what was left of the day.

It was dry. Very dry out, and the wind was blowing, so we didn't build a fire. We gathered more rocks and played the stones game after dinner, as we watched the sun slip down below the far ridge. All of the games this night were won by me, so we were now even.

I decided to call this spot Sunset Camp, Sunset Waterfalls, and Sunset Shelter, if we ever build one there. Nice place.

The sun was bright the next day, no wind, and it was a delightful fourteen miles to our next campsite (LOTS of waterfalls!). There were a couple of service berry trees that had popped out during the day, and the witch hazel was nearly overwhelming in some spots - lots and lots of it. It was clear and cold this night, and the bright moon kept us up for a while.

The last day was only twelve miles, and before lunch we had hiked more than ten of it. A few more service berries were out, but no more wildflowers. We were on auto pilot most of the day, and it felt great. It was good to get to the car though, mainly because we had a Mexican feast planned for dinner back in town!

February had been used up. And while I was able to spend many days in the woods, I didn't get to be at Cloudland nearly enough. It was a rather warm and dry month, with lots of wind!