Red, white and blue mushrooms - happy Fourth of July!
Wedding Note: In addition to the images of the wedding ceremony that you can find at the end of the June journal, you can go to http://www.Cloudland.net/weddingpics.html for more pics.
7/3/01 It was a hot and muggy day today - I spent most of it at the cabin and office, while Pam was in Jasper getting her resident papers in order (Arkansas drivers license, library card etc.). Just before dark we got together and took a hike around the big loop.
The air was cooling and the evening sky was filled with soft hues of pink and gold. We found a stretch of trail where mushrooms were concentrated, and we stopped and began to look around. "Here's a red one!" Pam shouted. "And a BLUE one!" "Oh, oh, a yellow one!" "GREEN!" "Orange!" "And here is one that looks just like a rock!" I've never seen so many different colors of mushrooms before. In fact, one small group of three was actually quite patriotic - one red, one white, and one blue!!! The more we searched around the more color we found. We were like a couple of kids in a candy store. It was quite remarkable.
Some mushrooms look really impressive from below - where you can get a close look at all of those "fans" of color! Come to think of it, these are not really mushrooms at all, but rather the "fruit" of mushrooms. The actual plant is down in the dirt below the surface, and sends up their fruit when conditions are right. I love fruit, but I HATE the taste of mushrooms!
We found our way over to Bob's cabin to examine an interesting natural phenomenon that was taking place. Joyce Hale had told us about a very fat female fence lizard that she had watched there on Sunday. Joyce watched her for quite a long while as the lizard (let's call her Lily) went about the business of digging a hole in the dirt. Lily would dig deeper and deeper - with her head and body hidden in the ground and flying dirt coming out - until eventually all Joyce could see was her tail. Eventually Lily was completely covered up deep inside the hole, where she stayed for awhile. And then she crawled out and covered up her little cave until the entrance could not be seen. She was, of course, laying her eggs in there, much like those big sea turtles do.
Joyce marked the spot with three twigs so that we could keep an eye on them and hopefully see some of the little ones when they emerge. We tried to figure out how long the incubation period would take, but could not come up with a firm time period - anyone know how long that is for fence lizards?
We found Bob - working as usual. I said something to him about having ten bales of hay, and his eyes let up like a little kid's - "I could use every one of them!" So I hiked back to the tractor shed and drove the hay on over to him and we unloaded it at the end of his garden, where he will use them to help retain water around some of the plants. While I was sitting out thereon the tractor in the open meadow, the nearly-full moon appeared over the forest, set against a deep blue sky. It was a marvelous sight, and a wonderful feeling to be there and part of it all. Lazy summer evenings are just splendid out here in the wilderness.
We spent a couple of hours going through all of the great images that Mark Hardgrave had taken during the party on Saturday - he sent them all 132 of them to us on a CD. We decided on 18 or 20 of the best ones, and then I spent the next hour or two converting them to low resolution files and posting them on the special web page. It was midnight before I shut everything down and crawled into bed with my new bride.
7/4/01 There was a thick fog bank laying low in the valley at first light this morning. That is sort of unusual since we have not had any rain since Saturday. While this is a more common sight these days, it still awes me and I just have to stand or sit and stare. While I was sitting there gazing, the entire fog bank began to move right before my very eyes. All at once it rose up, and the ridges that stretched on for miles slowly sank into the sea of white. A minute later there were no ridges visible at all. And then a few seconds later there was nothing out there but white - I could not even see to the far side of Fox meadow. It was a total whiteout at Cloudland! A then, all of a sudden, the white was gone and green wilderness appeared - and not a bit of fog in sight. It was an exciting couple of minutes. I learned long ago that things change quickly around here, and so you have to pay attention!
7/5/01 It was in the wee hours of the morning when we returned from a quick trip up north. The moon was out and big and bright and full and just INCREDIBLE - no fireworks could top this light show! We were both dog tired (and so were they), but had to just sit down for a moment or two and admire this wonder. The ridges stretched far out into the night - sometimes you can actually see MORE in the moonlight than you can during the day.
First light this morning was delayed somewhat. In fact, the later the hour, the darker it got. A thick blanket of black clouds lay across the wilderness, hiding any sunrise. Rumblings could be heard way up there. At first, the air was dead still. It looked and felt, well, sort of creepy. Then the wind began to blow. And blow. AND BLOW! A rainstorm was approaching for sure, but it remained quite dry out.
I absolutely LOVE this sort of weather - the kind that is dark and menacing and doesn't try to hide its intentions - here it comes baby, right in your face! My first thought was to jump up and run out and wander through the forest and let the full fury of the storm take me by the hand and thrash my soul and wake me up. But then I got to thinking - I did this very thing not too long ago, and I could do it again this day, OR, I could sneak upstairs and crawl under the covers where I knew my wife would be all snug and warm, and lay there with her and watch the lightning and the wind and the rain from the loft. I guess life is for learning, and I have learned that sometimes you run out into the storm - just to experience it first hand - and sometimes you wrap your arms around your lifemate and experience it together.
The sky opened up as promised with a loud and vicious downpour that dumped nearly an inch of rain in 35 minutes. The ground and the hills rumbled, and the dark sky flashed and the wind blew. It is great to be getting rain in July. The wildflowers in Fox meadow are really popping out now, and there will be twice as many tomorrow.
After things settled down a bit I sat down at the computer in the cabin and tried to answer a batch of e-mails. Right in the middle of this long and involved answer to one the power went off and the screen went blank. The power came back on again and I retyped everything, adding a bit here and there. Just before I finished it the power went off again. I have one of those backup batteries on the computer up at the office, but none here at the cabin. As I was typing the e-mail for a third time the power went off again. I gave up and headed out the door.
The forest was wet and smelled great. Fog drifted across my path and followed me wherever I went. Many clouds were born this morning down in the valley. But soon the sun popped out and burned it all off. Then the heat and humidity took over. I spent most of the day locked away inside the office, printing up thankyou notes and calling around trying to find someone to drill a deep water well.
Pam slaved most of the day away up in the loft - in her favorite blue reading chair. Sometimes every single moment of the day here is spent rushing around trying to get things done in time. But thankfully there are other days when time does not matter, and the most important thing is getting to the end of a good book. I have worried about Pam, and if she would be able to adjust to the pace of life here - and to the different priorities. And while she mostly keeps quite busy, today she gave into the calling of the over-stuffed blue chair and wrapped herself up into her book. I have never regretted a single moment spent reading here, and was thrilled to see my bride enjoying herself.
Towards the end of the day Pam struck out on a hike around the loop with Lucy, and I headed off down the steep trail to the river. When Aspen got to the edge of the sandstone bluff, he didn't miss a beat and just flew right on over - it's about a 12-14 foot drop where the trail descends the bluff. He disappeared down into the thick vegetation below in a flash.
More like JUNGLE vegetation! Man this stuff is thick right now, and more weeds and flowers and young trees growing than I can recall in previous summers. I guess all of that rain helps.
This trail is very steep - literally straight up and down the hillside at times. I don't like going DOWN steep slopes, but I enjoy going UP them - especially this one. When going down the footing is so unstable, and one slip and your balance is lost and your behind is headed for the sharp rocks and a bruised ego - perhaps worse. You also don't get too much chance to look around and enjoy the scenery because you have to concentrate too much on each step.
But today there was a lot to see right in front of me - plenty of SPIDER WEBS! I hate 'em, pure and simple. I know that we need spiders in this world, but I do wish they would build their webs about three feet off to one side! The vegetation on this trail had grown up a lot, and my bare legs got scratched in a hurry, and began to itch.
It was hot and humid, and the rocks underfoot were SLICK from the rain this morning, and the high humidity. Sometimes the rocks will actually sweat.
I came across these neat blue flowers down near the giant red oak trees. Pam had seen them along the lane a couple of days ago. They are bellflowers, and can grow up to six feet tall, producing many wonderful deep blue blossoms. I spent ten minutes trying to get a large bumble bee to hold still for a picture, but he had other ideas.
Down at the river there were tons of short plants that were covered with white flowers, and one tall bush that was just about to burst out with yellow flowers - that one will make a great picture here in a few days.
Whitaker Creek was flowing a little bit, and created a nice reflection in the first pool of cool water. Last year this pool was formed by the Buffalo River, but a flood changed the watercourse and now the Buffalo flows around this pool and joins Whitaker Creek a little ways downstream. I was trying to get a neat reflection picture just when Aspen jumped in and swam past.
No swimming for me today - I mainley wanted to get a bit of exercise, so I turned on around and headed back up the steep trail. I leaned into the hillside with all my might - knowing that many weeks of my ice cream habit had taken a toll. The breathing got rather loud and frequent as I trudged up the slope, but I loved every step of the way. As I neared the bluff my head pounded and my vision began to blur just a bit, but I kept on going. There is something inside of me that insists on doing this climb non-stop, no matter how much it hurts. And I know that doing that will be much better for me than if I stopped and rested after each bench. Before I knew it I was crashed in one of the deck chairs at the cabin - soaked clothes piled on the deck beside me - and had a big fan blowing chilled air in my face. YES, that felt GREAT!!!
It is late at night now, the sky is clear and the big moon is out there lighting up the wilderness. It is very still and quiet out. Kind of quiet here in the cabin too. There have been some strange noises happening though - loud bangs on the roof like a big old hickory nut has turned loose and landed on the tin. Only thing is there aren't any hickory trees that lean over the cabin. After several of them sounded off I got brave and grabbed a flashlight to go out and investigate. Usually when I hear a noise out here I wait around to see if it happens again before I take a look around. I am not much on the brave side, but living out here has taught me to be comfortable heading out into the unknown. HOWEVER, that very first step outside - when quite literally anything could happen - still sends a chill up and down my spine. But tonight, nothing. I wonder if the Buffalo Bigfoot is out there tossing hickory nuts at the cabin?
Most my day was spent indoors reading and listening to it rain and thunder. It seems like when I lived in the city bad weather was more of a concern. But here, it is something to take great joy in, and have no fears about.
(from Pam) "This evening Tim decided to hike down to the river and back. I wasn't very happy about it, since I wanted to go too. But, I knew that my back was not quite ready to tackle that hill, especially at his speed. It won't be long now though - my back is getting stronger every day.
Lucy and I decided to go on our own hike. We took off at a brisk pace up the trail to the East meadow. We hiked right on past my bench - no time to stop - had to keep the heart rate up. Up and up we went towards the meadow. It didn't rally dawn on me what I was about to step into until I was right at the edge. I was standing in the woods peering into the meadow where bears had been seen just a couple of days before.
I am deathly afraid of bears, but the thought of seeing one excites my very soul. Lucy was staying close to me and I knew she was a little nervous about being there without Aspen. Those two are almost inseparable now. We took a step into the meadow, I looked to my right toward the end of the meadow - nothing. We hiked on to the left somewhat - the whole time my eyes scanning the edge of the meadow where forest meets tall grass. And then I saw it - movement in the tall grass. Lucy froze. My heart raced. And then a flock of birds took off from that spot. OK, no giant beart attacking, so it was time to get a hold of myself.
We proceeded through the meadow and entered the woods on the other side, following an old road of some kind through the forest on a quiet summer evening. Lucy stopped. I stopped. I didn't hear anything, but I knew something was going on. Then Lucy took off at the speed of light. I started to run after her, even though I knew I could never catch her. I rounded a bend just in time to see the back end of some animal run into the woods - with Lucy in hot pursuit!
She never barked or even made a sound. My dog was a black silent blur moving through the evening - a stealth dog. My next thought was, oh boy, I have to go in THAT direction to get home. I called Lucy just once and she came right to me, wagging so hard that it shook her back end from side to side. We moved out into the clearing that the chase had occurred in, and low and behold there were tracks. I hurried along my way - no longer scared of what might be lurking in the underbrush. My destination was the cabin to get the mammal ID book. Tim was back at the cabin when we arrived, and I begged him to come with me to ID the tracks. It doesn't take much begging to get this man into the woods - thank goodness!
The outcome - a coyote. My little city dog chased her first coyote, and I survived my own vivid imagination."
And here is a note from my friend Jeannette - an avid journal reader who lives in Canada, but spends a great deal of time on the internet researching "unknown" things that we find here at Cloudland: "The Eastern Fence lizard lays anywhere from 3-16 eggs (this group of eggs is called a 'clutch'). Eggs are laid in early July and should hatch in mid-August (about 63 days same as a crocodile's eggs). The babies will be 2 1/4 inches long. They can make nice little pets (if you can catch one)and are easily released into the wild come fall."
7/7/01 Sunrise today was kind of odd. It was just getting light when I got up and took a soak in the tub, and then before I knew it, it was bright sunshine and blue sky - no soft light that created a multitude of hues to gently welcome the day. Just harsh sunshine, no wind, and a stiffness in the air that told of a hot muggy summer day to come.
But there were a TON of little birds out everywhere. In fact they kept at it all day long - flying around in pairs and small groups, playing in the trees, swooping down and landing in the meadow below the cabin. At one point we saw four different kinds of birds in the same small tree, including two indigo buntings. And speaking of buntings, a brilliant scarlet tanager and a bunting played tag for quite a while - hum, I wonder what color their offspring would be?
Pam's little hummingbird Chip was buzzing around like crazy. In fact, we think that he might actually be a Chippette, and have a nest nearby. When I went down behind the little workshop he just about went nuts, and dive-bombed me for five minutes. I've heard that hummingbird nests are SOOOO tiny - only an inch across! It would be tough to ever find one unless you just happened to see mom land there.
I spent most of the day out in the middle of the circle drive in front of the cabin working on Amber's fort. It is still mostly unfinished, but today I installed a swing section off on one side with two swings, a trapeze bar, and a nylon rope climbing net. Of course, I had to test everything once it was finished just to make sure it would be safe. Pam later told me that she has tried out the super slide too!
Pam spent most of her day inside (smart lady), working on various projects and cleaning up the cabin and the office, and cooking! One of her projects was to create a sign using a wood burning kit. The first time that I came into the cabin while she was using it I thought that the cabin was burning down. But the sign looks really great, and I know there will be many more to come. She has taken over some of the e-mail answering chores, at least the first level of reading them. Sometimes I just get so busy that I don't have time to read and respond to all of them every day - like today, I did not even see an e-mail until late tonight - nearly 11pm. Thinking back just now I realized that Pam was up and outside early this morning - digging holes and planting a couple of wedding presents. Her back is getting a LITTLE bit better all the time, but still a long ways from normal. She absolutely loves the wilderness here, but has also taken a liking to that big overstuffed chair of hers up in the loft - a great place to spend some time with book in hand on a hot summer day.
Just before I sat down at the computer for the evening we went out on the back deck and did a bit of star gazing. It was a delightful night out, and thousands of stars were looking down on us, along with a rather yellow Mars, and the Milky Way. There was a nice breeze coming up from the canyon, and coyotes and owls conversing with each other. Well, maybe not with EACH OTHER, but with others in their own clan. It seemed rather late for the moon to not have been up yet - it does rise about 50 minutes later each day though. I believe it must be time for it to appear by now, so I think I will shut down the computer and wander back out onto the deck and see what is shining.
7/8/01 We took a leisurely stroll around the mountain at first light today. The sun was a nice orange ball early, but soon turned yellow and began to heat up the air. The forest and meadows were still cool, with a bit of dampness from overnight dew. Tons of wildflowers out, but many are dying back. The overall scene was white, although many of the wild sunflowers are beginning to pop out and changing the color back to yellow. White and yellow - those seem to be the main colors, along with green.
No bear or bigfoot or other critter tracks today. I have heard a couple of different "Buffalo Bigfoot" stories of late, one going back a couple of generations. Also there seem to have been a number of UFO sightings down near Ponca this year, and by reliable folks too. While I am not a big believer in these things, there is no telling what might actually be out there. Can't think of anyone who has ever been harmed by a bigfoot or UFO, so I don't really dread running into them. Right now stepping on a rattlesnake in the middle of the night is still my biggest fear, and I try not to worry about that too much.
It was another hot and muggy day outside - the worst so far this year. The temp climbed up to 91, which is pretty warm for here. I spent a good part of the afternoon continuing my attack on the poison ivy in the circle drive in front of the cabin. My goal this summer is to wipe it out completely there, and have an "ivy-free zone" for Amber and others to play in. So far, so good, and I think most of it will be gone by the end of July.
Just as the temp hit its peak, it was time for a hike. Thinking back it was kind of silly I guess, but after wading through knee-to-thigh high poison ivy for a couple of hours wearing shorts, I put on long pants for the trip down to the river. Today Aspen and Lucy and my big walking stick went with me.
The trip down was a bit easier than it had been a couple of days ago. I was able to use the walking stick to help stabilize myself as I jogged down the steep trail - actually more of a controlled fall. Before I knew it I could hear the dogs splashing in Whitaker Creek, which was still running just a little bit. And the main Buffalo was running pretty good too - much to my surprise. I had to wade across the river to get to my swimming hole, which is rare in July.
Within seconds I had my sweat-soaked clothes off and plunged into the cool water. Man, what a relief!!! I brought my mask today for the first time since last summer so that I could have a good look around, and perhaps find my old bud Spot (he is a smallmouth bass).
The sun was shining through the trees above and penetrating the water in several places. These shafts of daylight produced a kaleidoscope of color, both in the water itself and from the dozens of fish swimming around.
The water was not perfectly clear, but rather had a dull yellow-green hue to it. I guess that was algae. But the fish were as colorful as ever, with sunfish of all sorts leading the way. And I found several nests, where hand-size perch were guarding their eggs and chasing off the many invaders that gathered around. There were several smallmouth bass around too, but I never saw Spot. There was this one bass that looked like Spot had last summer - with a beautiful pattern of green and black and brown, with many spots. But Spot would be larger this year. This new bass was helping out one of the perch defend her nest, so he is a good guy too.
I dove deep and hung around near the bottom. Looking up through the sunlit water I could see a great deal of color - the yellow-green water, blue sky, deep green of the trees, and purple flowers on tall stalks hanging down over the water, plus bright spots of red from the ripe fruit of a cucumber magnolia tree. And then a school of fish would swim through the shaft of sunlight and nearly blind me. Yes sir, sitting on the bottom of a mountain pool in the Ozarks holding your breath is often a wonderful experience.
It was quite COLD there on the bottom too! This pool has many tiny springs that feed into it, and this coldest water sinks to the river bottom. Right now the river is still feeding it with plenty of warm water from the shallow river upstream, but soon that runoff will nearly dry up, and then most of the water in the pool will come from the springs - the pool will actually get cooler as the summer progresses.
Aspen spent the entire time in the water - swimming and playing and climbing up onto the bank just so that he could run and jump into the water again. It was so funny to watch him from underwater - what a perfect dog paddle he has!
But Lucy is not a water dog. I suspect partly because she does not know how good of a natural swimmer she actually is. She spent most of her time on the bank, cautiously eyeing us in the water. But once I did get her over to the edge in the deep water, and got her into the water with me. She immediately began to paddle frantically. I had to assist her a time or two, but before long she was going a pretty good dog paddle herself. She quickly headed for the opposite bank though, and never came back in.
While I was out on the a large rock drying off in the warm afternoon sun, Lucy took off upstream. She looked like she was on an important mission. She flew across the shallow Buffalo River, over a gravel bar and splashed into Whitaker Creek, which is actually deeper at this point than the river is. She got about half way out into the pool, then came to an abrupt halt. There was a look of terror in her eyes as she slowly began to back up. Once she hit the gravel bar, she swung around and took off in the opposite direction, splashing back across the river, then down the bank, and up onto the large boulder where I was. While she did make a point of stepping on all of my clothes with her wet paws, she didn't even slow down a bit, and continued her frantic pace down the other side of the boulder and out into the woods. She still had that terrified look on her face when she flew through. I don't know if she saw a big snake, a bear, or merely her reflection in the water, but something really had her stirred up.
It was time for my favorite part of this hike - the trip back up the steep hillside. But today it was not so fun, as something had drained me of most of my energy. I was able to make it all the way to the top without stopping, but brother was I dragging! It probably didn't help much that Lucy, the city dog, had no trouble whatsoever. In fact, she sped on up the hill like it was flat.
Oh yea, I almost forgot. While still down on the more flat terrain - near one of the old homesites - I found a fresh pile of bear scat. And I mean really fresh. In fact the bear had been there while we were swimming. The scat was right next to this white mushroom that I had seen on the way down, in the middle of the trail. I wondered if the bear had come on over to the river and that is what spooked Lucy. I have not seen a bear since last summer, and was sorry to have just barely missed this chance.
Soon after I reached the top and had cooled down a bit, Pam had to head up north to pick up Amber who was visiting her bio-dad. Pam has never seen a bear in the wild, and while doesn't really want to come face to face with one, she too is anxious to see one. In fact she feels left out every time that someone sees one out here. But today she would get her wish. Just as she was about to leave the ridgetop where Cloudland is located, she looked up and saw a cinnamon bear sliding down the embankment off to her right. He slide right on down into the roadway and landed on his butt! He immediately turned around and scampered on across the road and disappeared down into the woods. Like most bear sightings, it happened that fast and was over - just a few second glimpse into a bear's life.
Needless to say Pam was thrilled, and was laughing out loud when she called to tell me of it. Not too many folks get to see a big old black bear sliding on his behind! About 30% of black bears go through a "cinnamon" color phase like this one was in. They are all black bears around here, but some folks might mistake them for a griz because of this color. While I do enjoy seeing a bear here, I am so thankful that we do NOT have any griz here!
Now that she has seen one, it is time for a close encounter in the woods! That is when you really become part of and get to know them well.
7/9/01 Another orange ball at sunrise today. And a nice breeze blowing. But it is clear above, and feels like a hot and muggy day on the way. There are tons of birds out this morning. Right now there are three brilliant tanagers right outside my window - these guys are SO bright that they really look out of place in the overall dull green of summer foliage.
Pam and Amber returned to the spot where the bear was yesterday. No more bears, but they did see a flock of wild turkeys.
And speaking of turkeys, Amber snapped this photo of one that she found back at the cabin:
Since I had a big chore to do in the afternoon (putting together and installing two ceiling fans for the porch overhang out on the upper deck), I figured it was time for a hike instead. Amber went with me, and we headed out for the Crag - it would be Amber's first visit to it.
We stopped for a minute at one of the old pioneer walls and talked about how they had cleared the nearby field of these rocks so that they could plow the field and grow corn and stuff. She remarked at how neat it was that the pioneers did not use any glue or cement.
Amber is a pretty good hiker for such a small child - and she had better be growing up at Cloudland where hiking is a way of life. She led most of the way, and kept up a good pace.
The afternoon sun was no longer shining on the Crag, but it was still lighting up the rest of the wilderness behind. Amber walked on out to near the edge and posed for a picture or two, then we continued on with our hike, heading up the steep hillside towards the Faddis cabin.
Once we got to the Faddis pond we walked all the way around it looking for tracks. There were plenty of deer and raccoon tracks, but no bear tracks (lots of Aspen and Lucy prints too!). While searching the edge Amber got into a bit of soft clay and sunk in - almost up to her knees! At one point she was literally stuck in the mud, and had to be rescued by her hiking partner.
Come to think of it, I do believe that her getting into the mud was all planned out - because the only way to clean her up was for her to go swimming in the pond, which was something I think she had wanted to do all along. The water must have felt good because it took me nearly five minutes to get her out of the water!
Next we visited Bob's garden, where we found a vine covered with these HUGE black berries. Amber immediately proclaimed that she hated those berries, although after interrogation she revealed that she had never tasted any before. Hum. For the first time that I can recall I was actually able to get her to try something new, and much to her surprise, she LOVED them!!! "When can we eat more?"
As we made our way through the meadow - which was covered with tiny wildflowers and weeds that were taller than Amber - she stopped and stood there for a few moments, just thinking and gazing out across the meadow. I waited for a few minutes, and then asked her what she was thinking about. "I was just wondering what all of this looked like when the pioneers were here." Me too.
And then while we were hiking back to the cabin through the deep woods, Amber came up to me and started talking about wilderness. We had been discussing many things about wilderness during the trip. And she had come to the conclusion that "The whole world used to be wilderness, and now look at what we have left. I think that we need more wilderness." That's my girl!
OK, back at the cabin the fan job was completed in record time, and then SOMEONE decided that we needed to go on a campout TONIGHT! It was nearly dark, but when you live in the wilderness, it is easy to pack things up and find a suitable camping spot in short order.
We headed on out and set up our tent in Aspen's meadow. It was a bit warm at first, but the clear night sky quickly cooled things down. We could find Mars and the Big Dipper easily, and as the night grew late the sky darkened and tons of bright stars came out. It was a delightful little campout - the five of us in my old Eureka Timberline tent (writings on the walls showed that I had used this tent as a base camp extensively in the late 1980's and early 1990's up in the high country of Wyoming - I used to spend two to four months at a time camped out at 10,000 feet or above doing trail work then).
At some point during the night, I was awake and noticed that Lucy was too - she was standing at attention and looking out the back window. Was there a bear out there prowling around? Nope, just the bright moon rising up into the sky - she was mesmerized by it, as I have been many hundreds of times myself.
7/10/01 There were many bands of multi-colored clouds in the northern sky at first light. Some were pretty dark, but it didn't feel much like rain. The clouds turned pink and orange and red and yellow, all set against a deep blue sky.
Pam got up early and hiked on back down to the cabin. Amber and I sat up and enjoyed the morning, and I read a book to her. Aspen and Lucy had gone out to patrol the area and sweep it clean from any bears. It was a wonderful beginning to the day.
7/11/01 A couple of neat things happened today. First, the color proofs for the 2002 waterfall calendar came in, and I must tell ya, they look terrific! This will be my first calendar ever, and I am glad that I waited. The printers have done an outstanding job so far with it, and I expect it will be one of the most beautiful wall calendars ever printed once they get finished with it. And it looks like they may be available sometime in August. I know August is still way too early to be thinking about calendars, but the big bookstores are already filling up with tons of them for 2002 (the one for "Wild & Scenic" Arkansas is kind of dull if you ask me). I guess it is getting sort of like Christmas - it used to be that nothing was on the shelves or any decorations up until after Thanksgiving, and now, heck, I saw a Santa on the shelf yesterday! Once we get a firm ship date on the calendars, I will post the details here, including all of the images for you to look at. If I am sounding a bit like a salesman, that's because I AM! Although actually since these will be printed in a very limited edition, I expect them to go pretty fast.
The second thing that happened was that I got to get my hands dirty - and planted the very first tree in our new orchard. It was a peach tree, given to us at the big party. This wonderful plot of land is over on the other side of the ridge from the cabin, but since there are so many fruity things already growing in the area, I decided that the soil and the air and the water drainage were really good for fruit. I loaded up the tree in the truck and drove on over, then spent about ten minutes digging a nice home for our new tree.
I have to pause here for a minute and tell you about a big dilemma that I got into. OK, so here is the large and wonderful plot of land that will be the home for our orchard - hopefully there will be an orchard there for many generations to come. No telling how many trees we will eventually have. And there is certainly no plan as to where they will go. I do plan to have peach, pear, apple, plum, and no telling what else. Anyway, so there I stood at the edge of this empty plot of land with shovel and tree in hand, and I didn't have a clue where I was going to put this very first tree. Good grief, what a simple decision, yet it seemed SO important that I wanted to get it right. I really don't know a thing about how to lay out an orchard. But there I was, and I had to put it somewhere. Not really knowing how to decide, I simply picked up the tree and began to walk around the plot until I finally just stopped at this one location. I don't know, but it just FELT right. So I put the tree down and began to dig.
The earth was rich and dark and smelled great. I got down on my knees and mashed some of it between my fingers. Something very basic about dirt - I guess it forms the very foundation for everyone and everything to stand on.
I carefully placed the little tree into the hole, drug the loose dirt in close all around it, patted it down, and made a little ridge to act as a catch basin for water. Then I poured four gallons of water all around, giving it a good first drink in its new home.
As I sat there in the dirt dreaming of fresh peaches and cream on a hot summer afternoon, I caught a flash of color over my shoulder. I turned around and saw a brilliant ORANGE disk peeking through an opening in the trees - the setting sun. Yes, this would be a good spot for the orchard, and I would return for many more sunsets here.
It is late now and very dark outside. My ladies are on the road on their way home from a quick trip up north, and the cabin is very quiet. A persistent lightening bug has been hanging around just outside my window, so I decided to step out into the warm night air and see what was up. Did I say warm? I meant HOT! And LOUD. Goodness, it sounded like every bug and tree frog in the county had gathered around the cabin.
There are a million chores for me to do tonight, but I believe that I will shut down this computer, grab a book, and land in the big leather couch and read until a pair of headlights appear in the distant forest.
7/12/01 I read late into the night, and it was after midnight before my girls arrived. I'm not sure if it was the Stephen King book or the handful of cookies that I devoured, but something kept me from going to sleep right away (I don't enjoy horror - movies or books - and this book is his "On Writing," which is very good). The fact that I was awake when the loudest noise I had ever heard inside the cabin shook us all up made it a bit easier to comprehend. There are often strange noises here at night, but none the magnitude of this one! It was such a shock that even Aspen huddled in the corner, too scared to even bark. After a frantic search of the area I discovered that an eight-foot long metal shelf in the closet had come crashing down from its high perch - the supports had simply given up and buckled, even though no extra load had been placed on it recently.
And speaking of things going wrong, I failed to mention about the refrigerator. When you live this far OUT, you sort of have to just deal with things that break sometimes, as was the case a few days ago. The temp in the frige had been slowly dropping, while a giant ice storm had gotten into the freezer. The last straw was when I reached to take a sip of my beloved mocha to help me start the day and found it to be luke-warm, or at least not COLD. I'm too cheap to call the repairman (it usually costs at least $100+ to get someone out here, and I don't blame them), and I figured I could solve the problem on my own anyway, so I gathered up all of the coolers and unloaded everything.
While we lived out of the coolers for a couple of days, I did find a couple of things not quite right in the frige (mostly a frozen cold air vent). After four years of use it was time for a good cleaning anyway, and I eventually loaded the food back into what seemed like a brand new refrigerator. It has been working just peachy cheese ever since!
I know that most of you probably don't tune into this web page to read about defective shelving and major appliance repair, but what the heck - that is part of what has been going on out here in the wilderness.
OK, back to the middle of last night. When things finally did calm down I laid my head on the pillow and looked out the window - there was this most incredible burnt-orange half moon rising. I mean the color was DEEP orange! It cast a faint glow over the wilderness, and I wondered if any of the critters thought their home was on fire.
At first light I rolled over and put my arm around my dear wife, only to discover that she had grown a pair of large, hairy breasts during the night - yes, it WAS a long night, and Stephen King had invaded! When I forced my eyes open I was happy to learn that it was only Aspen's backside, snuggled up tight against her for comfort.
I was still not quite awake a few minutes later as I sat in the hot tub, sipping my mocha (quite nicely chilled, thank you). There was this awful squawking up in the air somewhere, and I could not figure out what it was or where it was coming from. The scene from my perch in the steaming bubbles was one of a deep blue sky, framed all around by silhouetted tree branches. The same old half moon - bright white now - was high in that sea of blue. And then the source of the squawking appeared - a great blue heron slowly moved across the sky, gracefully flapping his giant wings, and heading north. And then it all came into focus - our good friend Carrie is having a baby this week, and I guess all of the storks were busy, so this heron was summoned to deliver the little one to her. GOOD LUCK CARRIE!
The wilderness is very still this morning, holding its breath for something. I have heard that there is a great wave of thunderstorms and rain headed this way - that figures, because I had planned on spraying preservative on the fading gazebo roof today. But for now there is not a cloud in the sky, and it is rather warm and humid out. Sort of hazy too - just another typical summer morning in the Ozarks.
Right now there is a phoebe sitting on the black steel bar that the hummingbird feeder is hanging on, dipping her tail every second or two (this dipping is how you can tell a phoebe from a pee wee). A scarlet tanager just flew across the scene and landed nearby. And there is a bright blue indigo bunting at his usual perch spot in the dogwood tree, singing his heart out. I love to sit and listen to these guys music - just has a wonderful melody to it.
Amber and I went out to get the mail after lunch. We came across this neat leaf that was caught in a spider web, everything backlit by the hot sun. She got out her brand new digital snapshot camera and made this picture of it all. I have been looking for an inexpensive digital camera for her to use and call her own, and finally found this one at Wal Mart yesterday. It is made by Polaroid, and has many great features, including a macro mode and an 8mb storage card (she can take 300 pictures on that one card!). The quality is not quite as good as my little Olympus snapshot camera, but it cost $500 while this little Polariod only cost $100. We are giving it a good test run this week to see if we want to keep it or not, and will be posting several of her images here that were shot with it.
On the way back from the cabin we stopped off and raided Bob's garden - man, you should see all the produce there! And here is another snapshot made with Amber's little camera. Oops, how did that waterfall calendar get in there?
It is a hot and muggy afternoon, and my two girls are downstairs in the shade making a clay pot. I am sort of worn out because Amber has discovered the Beatles, and I just can't help but jump out onto the dance floor every time that she puts a Beatle CD in, which is quite often these days (we have all of the original albums on CD here). Some of that music is quite high powered, and dancing to it with an eight-year old girl will wear an old guy like me out in no time! My faithful dog Aspen is laying on the floor at my feet, his fur blown around by the ceiling fan directly overhead. Life is good here today, but it will get a LOT better once we make a bit of homemade ice cream to go with those fresh blackberries that we just picked!
"I felt like a big clay monster!!! The cool, wet clay was very slimy to work with, and kind of hard to do, but our neat little plastic clay pot making machine (a pottery wheel) helped with the chore. In the end, our very first project turned into a clay model of a pile of ice cream!" ...from Amber
That ice cream (the real stuff) was wonderful, and the blackberries were sweet and juicy. And we had a dinner fit for a king. Only problem was that the cook (me) used nine different pots and pans to fix it (when you make everything from scratch, and cook up a lot of fresh veggies, it takes more than just one plate in the microwave). So the kitchen was a mess. But Pam jumped right on up and volunteered for the cleanup job. (Her back is back a little better each day, and she is able to hike and do more activities all the time before the pain sets in.)
Later in the night, after Amber went off to bed, there was one of the most incredible lightening displays ever. In fact, there were two different GIANT thunderstorms, and Pam and I watched from the back deck as they inched towards each other. It was actually a very strange sight - most of the sky was filled with a million bright stars. But low on the southern horizon - one in the eastern half, and the second in the western half - these tall, billowing thunderheads that were filled with orange flashes slowly moved towards us, and each other.
The light show was quite impressive, but so was the audio part of it all. At first, we could not hear a thing - just flash after flash coming from inside those huge cloud formations. Then as they got closer, the rumbling began. And it grew louder and more intense. These were very civilized and polite thunderstorms, as they even took turns speaking - sort of like they were talking to each other. First, the one on the right (west) would rumble for a minute or two, then the one to the left (east) spoke up. Their heavy bass tones would echo back and forth across the wilderness below us.
And all the while we could see that these two powerful forces were heading towards each other. Heck, they were also heading right towards US! But everything else was so still and calm - not a whisper of a breeze in the air, nor any critters stirring or singing - it was like the wilderness was all just sitting back and watching just like we were. Or they had already run for cover! It was truly bizarre sitting there in the middle of all this - the clear skies and stars above with no wind around us, then right out in front was all of that commotion going on.
At one point, I swear I saw a large lightening bolt arc up into the dark sky and actually go around a group of stars before coming back down again. That happened several times. It all reminded me of a giant cinematic production that was created in some computer in Hollywood for the big screen.
But the hour was growing very late, so my bride and I said goodbye to the show and climbed the stairs to the loft, where we found our daughter fast asleep on the couch, clutching the stuffed bear that my niece Sarah Cecil hand-made for her. The production we had just watched was better than any "two thumbs up" movie we had seen in a while.
7/13/01 It was difficult to go to sleep because the light show going on outside came right on through the ten windows up at our level, and it felt like we were out in the middle of a disco dance floor with all the strobe lights going off constantly. Man it was BRIGHT in the loft! But still no rain. At least for a while.
An hour or two later those two big thunderstroms did indeed meet, and right on top of us. All of a sudden there was an incredible amount of wind, twisting and turning the trees all around - it was bright enough with all of the lightening for us to see everything that was going on. Soon a single blast of rain smashed the cabin, and then stopped. Hum - that was just a sign of things to come.
We couldn't tell if the storms were making love or engaged in battle for domination of the sky, but the result was a LOT of rain being dumped on us. I eventually had to get up and close all of the windows so that we could get some sleep - it was very loud outside. Great to be getting more rain (we ended up with about two inches).
I sort of drifted in and out of sleep all night, but was thrown wide awake around 5:45am when I opened my eyes. The cabin was engulfed in a thick bank of fog, but the fog was not white - it was brilliant ORANGE! I shook my head to see if I was really awake or not - stark black limbs, leaves and tree trunks silhouetted against all of that color! And not just in the west, but in all directions.
I must pause here for a moment to tell you a sad tale. It was just yesterday when I was talking about Amber's new little digital camera. Well, right after I posted that info here in the journal, I reached out for my own digital camera to go take a picture of something - its strap caught on the desk and yanked the camera out of my hands, and it went crashing to the floor, smashing into several pieces. This camera has been a workhorse for me these past couple of years, and it has survived many falls out in the woods (you should see its dented body and with cracked glass). But this blow was too much for it, and I could not put the pieces back together again. Hum, good thing Amber has a new camera! Although she had already grown quite attached to it, and I had difficulty wrestling it away from her. I guess dad will have to get another camera of his own.
It is light out now, and the pea-soup fog is back to normal grey-white color. Hey, speaking of that, which is it anyway - grEy or grAy? Either one is acceptable you say - HOW COME??? Why do we confuse the issue with TWO different spellings of the same word? Or are there specific uses for each spelling? I always feel like I am spelling it wrong no matter which one I use.
YIKES!, what a spectacular scene outside right now - where is my camera?
Amber had a couple of visitors today - Terry Tractor's granddaughters from Wisconsin. They seemed to like Cloudland, although didn't get to play much outside because everything was still so wet from all the rain. After they left, Terry took them on a hike down to Hawksbill Crag, and then onto Lost Valley. We spent the afternoon working on the circle drive and the fort - trimming back the bushes, building a ladder, and installing an aluminum bar between two trees for Amber to do gymnastics on. Later we had a feast of shrimp kabobs, and watched the space shuttle dock with the space station on the NASA channel.
7/14/01 It was a classic Cloudland morning, with a sea of clouds all gathered low in the valleys. As soon as the first rays of sunshine touched the white stuff, it all began to move around, and within a few minutes was mostly gone. After seeing this same scene many times here, I still never tire of it, and in fact spent ten minutes today running around frantically taking picture after picture as the clouds moved around. Poor Amber - she may never get to use her camera!
Then I snuck upstairs to see what my dog was up to, and found him in bed with my wife! Aspen has a pretty tough life out here for sure.
The sun had retreated into a bank of clouds above the eastern horizon, but now has risen above that and is lighting up the wilderness once again. There is only one solitary cloud left down in the valley - about three miles up river towards Fallsville. Pam is out on her morning hike with the dogs, and Amber is still asleep. It is supposed to be cooler today, and feels great outside right now. There are a hundred or more birds out playing in the trees and around in the meadow below the cabin - they are EVERYWHERE! Mostly small ones like warblers and buntings. I do believe they enjoyed the big drink yesterday, and the cooler temps.
Speaking of the meadow, the wild sunflowers all around it and it the forest nearby are popping out like crazy. There are literally hundreds of them in bloom now, with many more to come. And the meadow itself is filled with brilliant red and orange and pink flowers, and all of them are attracting butterflies and goldfinches. Lots of color in the middle of a normally dull-green summer.
Pam just returned and called me out onto the deck. There were two SCARLET tanagers sitting in the top of a tree below - and they were lit up by the sunshine and were simply BRIGHT, BRIGHT, BRIGHT!!!
7/15/01 Roy and Norma came out for the weekend, and the three of us headed down the trail to the river this morning. Pam had already taken her early morning stroll and was back at the cabin with Amber. While looking up and down the riverbed for a place where we could spot the cabin (we never could see the cabin from the river), we came across a pile of bear scat. Actually two of them. No, three. Four. FIVE piles of bear scat in all - and in the same place, which was most unusual.
The piles of scat were different ages, mostly composed of some type of large red berry. Few of the berries had been digested, and most survived the trip intact. The consistency of the freshest pile was partly different from the rest though - and after digging through it with a stick we discovered that it was made up of the parts of hundreds of bees! This bear must have found a hive and had a great feast.
Why was this bear returning to the exact same spot to do his business? That was very strange. In fact, I don't recall even finding two piles in the same area before. This was probably the very same bear that I had crossed paths with a few days before. I did not recognize the berries - too large to be polk berries, and anyway, polk berries are all still green. This would be a great spot to set up a tent at and hang out for awhile, watching for the bear to return. I can hear it now - "What did you do all weekend?" "Sat in my tent and waited for a bear to show up and go to the bathroom."
Aspen had his usual wonderful time at the river, but so did Lucy, and she really is not much in tune with the water. She ran up and down the river bank, jumping into and splashing across the shallows, then bounding over boulders and shaking off all of her wetness, only to jump right back into the water again. She had a blast! And I was even able to take a picture of her - something I don't get to do very often. Lucy is very camera shy, and most anytime that you point a camera directly at her, or even look straight at her for that matter, she will move, often cower and come up to you. Pam thinks that she was abused as a young dog. But today she was on top of the world! Another reason why I don't take too many pictures of Lucy is thefact that she is so BLACK, and black never shows up very well in pictures. And, of course, she isn't called Lucy Lightning for nothing - she is SO FAST!!!
Remember that bush I told you about last week that would probably burst forth with beautiful flowers? Well, it was in full bloom today, and quite spectacular. A nice splash of yellow for all to see.
*(when I first posted this picture, I had no idea what the bush was, and asked for assistance from you journal readers. Within hours I got the answer - twice. The first to reply was our Canadian friend Jeannette, who correctly identified it as St. John's-wort. Then the master himself wrote to note that it was indeed Shrubby St. John's-wort, and was identified on page 128 of his SHRUBS AND WOODY VINES OF MISSOURI book. This is Don Kurz, who has also written the best wildflower book available for the Ozarks - OZARK WILDFLOWERS, which I have quoted many times here, and contains so many beautiful photographs. It is GREAT to have the actual experts here to help us!)
The river was flowing pretty good, and while I decided to not swim today and headed back up the hillside, Roy and Norma stayed behind and reported that the skinny dipping hole was marvelous, and that the water was crystal clear with no algae. AND they saw Spot - the smallmouth bass that I swam with many times last summer. They said he made a couple of wide circles around them, and was a lot larger than he was last summer.
When I returned to the cabin I took a stroll through Fox meadow, which was alive and filled with color. Those wildflowers that we planted last spring continue to bloom and add a great deal of color to the landscape. Looking up towards the cabin there was a sea of yellow from the wild sunflowers. I've NEVER seen such a colorful July in Arkansas!
Roy and Norma had to head back to town, and we three visited Bob's garden and got a few ears of corn for dinner. Scott and Carolyn Cook arrived a short while later, and pulled a tall ficus tree out of their van. It now sits right in the middle of the cabin, and looks just great! We are hoping that it will like it here, and eventually grow and fill up much of the 23 foot height of the great room.
Scott and Carolyn's new PACK RAT OUTDOOR CENTER building in Fayetteville will begin to take shape in several weeks. They will be building a 14,000 + square foot store made out of the same type of lodgepole pine logs that the Cloudland cabin is made of - and built by the Amish in NW Montana. There will be 14 - 18 semi truck loads of logs arriving over a period of two weeks. It will be a sight to behold as the new log building takes shape, and certainly will be a destination for anyone who enjoys log structures. One great thing about these logs is that no trees were killed for them - they all come from large stands of natural-kill forest (bugs, disease or fire). They hope to have the building complete and the store open in early 2002.
It was cool and overcast and wonderful outside all day today. We spent much of it working and playing at Amber's fort. (It is still only about 2/3'rds complete, as I still have to finish putting up the log siding walls, then put on a roof.) And since we have cleared out a lot of the brush between the fort and the cabin, it is a wonderful spot just to sit at and enjoy the forest (we installed a nice swing there yesterday - this one four-feet wide and made out of cedar for adults!).
As I searched for rocks to line the trail from the cabin to the fort, I realized that there are really very few rocks on the surface around the cabin. This is because the entire area was once cleared and farmed, probably as late as the 1930's. Now most of it is back in timber, with a few openings here and there. This is a great combination for wildlife and diverse plant life. People seem to like it too!
It is long into the evening now, Amber is in bed and Pam is upstairs reading. There is a cool breeze coming in the window next to me, and the nighttime forest is alive with the music of summer bugs. This will probably be one of the last quiet and relaxing moments for me in a good while - so many things will happen this next couple of weeks out here. I will try to check in now and then and write something to post in the journal. And if Amber lets me, I will even take a few pictures with her camera!
7/16/01 I was on a mission today - to find the exact spot where Haley Zega was found when she was rescued on May first by Lytle James and William Jeff Villines. I got up early and packed my daypack and rechecked everything to make sure that I had it all - GPS unit to record the exact location of where Haley was found (the search and rescue folks need this info to officially close the books on the mission, and I have to lead the Dateline NBC camera crew there next week), the digital camera, backup batteries for both, a topo map, four snapshots that Lytle James took of Haley at the spot where they found her (these are most important for locating the exact spot), plus the usual things that are required for a hike deep into the wilderness at this time of the year. My pack was pretty heavy, but I really did need all that stuff. I put on long sleeve shirt and pants, gaiters and boots, then put on a bunch of bug dope.
Roy arrived just about the time my chores were completed, and we struck out on our mission. It was cool and overcast and felt great out in the forest. We headed for a nearby split in the bluffline and then plunged straight down the steep hillside towards the river. We passed a giant red oak that had recently given up and blown over. Roy wanted to know if it made a sound, since there probably was no one around to hear it. Heck, not only did it make a sound, that sound probably echoed up and down the canyon!
We traveled through a dense jungle most of the time, only able to see 25-50 feet around us. At other times the ground was completely covered with Virginia creeper, and no other underbrush around, so we could see far out into the forest of giant red oaks, hickories and sweet gums, which soared overhead and disappeared in a tangle of branches.
Just about the time we reached the river, it began to rain lightly. Oops - neither of us had bothered to pack any rain gear, but that was OK - nothing better than hiking in a summer rain shower!
I stopped and dug out the photos - there were a couple of very specific rocks and one leaning tree that we were looking for. Otherwise the photos could have been taken just about anywhere up and down the river. Plus I had a description of the terrain that Lytle had told me about, and their last hundreds yards of riding before they came upon her.
The original report had put her upstream from the mouth of Dug Hollow, so that is where we began a close examination of the north river bank. Christy Comstock and I had seen her footprints downstream from there two days after Haley was found, so I figured we would be looking for a while before finding the spot.
We searched and search and searched. Several times all of the conditions seemed just right, but no luck. The rain began to really come down hard, and we took refuge under a large beech tree. Quite often in these thick woods it can rain for ten or fifteen minutes before any of it ever reaches the ground. Of course, it continues to rain for that long after the rain stops too!
What I really needed to bring was an umbrella, because I needed to dig out the map and photos and get another good look at them. Neither of us
When they found Haley, she was soaking wet, and had told them about trying to climb up a bank and slipping down into the river bank several times. We had just passed such a place with steep banks that slid down into a large pool in the river, so we looked very carefully along the bank just downstream from that point, and in fact covered that area twice, but still nothing.
At one point we both spotted this one rock that looked a lot like the one in the photos, and we both trotted on over to it, and while the shape was the same, it was not the right location.
The riverbed had grown pretty rough, with lots of large boulders and deeper pockets of water, although most of the river had run underground and so there were many exposed rocks and gravel bars. The rain had made everything wet and VERY slick!
We skirted around one of the rougher areas and picked up the old pioneer road that runs through the area. And then the riverbed flattened out again, so we wandered on back over to it.
When we stepped out into this wide, open area, a strong feeling came over me. I said to Roy "this has to be it!" We both picked up our pace, and scoured the river bank, looking for that one leaning tree. The rain came down harder, and thunder boomed and shook the stones beneath our feet. The river was completely underground at this point.
And there it was - the leaning tree and both rocks. I was one happy camper to have finally found it for sure. Looking back it all seems sort of silly now, to have been so EXCITED at finding this spot, but it kind of closes the book on the entire ordeal somehow. Up until that very moment when I pulled out the GPS unit and fixed a location, no one really knew exactly where she had been found, and how far she had traveled in those three long days.
Just to be on the safe side, I called Roy over and we hovered over my daypack (to keep the rain off) as I took out the photos and compared them to the spot where we were at. One by one we confirmed that the object in the photos matched what was on the ground. Yep, this was the spot.
I pulled out my GPS unit that was carefully stowed inside a plastic bag, turned it on and set it out on a rock in the middle of the riverbed so that it could lock on enough satellites to get a good fix. The rain continued to pour down (I left the GPS inside the bag), and I hoped the GPS remained dry. After five minutes I felt like I a good fix, so I marked the spot as a waypoint and turned off the unit.
Taking a few pictures of the spot was a bit tougher, because there was no way to shield the camera from the rain, but I did manage to take a couple of digital snapshots without flooding the lens.
And just to make certain of our spot, we looked around and found a nearby creek that joined the Buffalo - that spot we could find on the map even if the GPS info did not work.
Mission accomplished, we turned around and headed back upstream. It would be a long, soggy, and nearly exhausting trip back up the riverbed and then up the steep hillside back to the cabin. But this was the really fun part of the hike. I absolutely LOVE to walk in the rain, especially now that we did not have to concentrate on finding that particular tree and rocks.
The jungle seemed even thicker on the way back, and the hillside became quite muddy in places, causing us to slip and slide a lot, but it was a great hike out. We were both, of course, soaked to the bone, but didn't mind at all.
Back at the cabin, I quickly pulled out the photos, camera, map, and GPS unit and everything seemed OK. After taking a good look at the map and figuring out exactly where we had been, it turns out that Haley was actually found in the Buffalo National River and not in the Ozark National Forest as had been thought all along. That may seem trivial to most, and even a bit confusing, but it is really a significant point of fact. Most of the search efforts had been concentrated in the national forest, and while the national park is next door, there really wasn't much search activity going on over there. Little Haley actually hiked from the Department of Agriculture (national forest service) right on over to the Department of the Interior (national park service).
I will return to this spot next week with the Dateline NBC camera crew. It will be fun to see how well they survive the trip!
By the way, the Lat/Lon coordinates of the spot are N35 degrees, 54 minutes, 42.1 seconds; W093 degrees, 25 minutes, 16.2 seconds.
7/18/01 Pam and Amber loaded up early and headed north, while I went to Boxley to meet good friends Jay McDonald (one of the greatest eye surgeons in the United States) and his daughter Bucy (she is a producer for the BBC in London). We were going to visit Sweden Creek Natural Area - when it is hot and miserable outside, there are few places to seek refuge, but the towering walls in this natural area block the sun and create a little cool oasis there. Jay spends most of his time working with laser beams inside people's eyeballs, while Bucy travels all over the world producing important television programs - both are very good nature photographers.
Soon after we entered our little refuge we came across a pink mushroom that reminded me of coral. There would be a TON of mushrooms today - all shapes and sizes and colors. But this was one of the most interesting ones, and I have no idea what kind it is.
We inched our way along the base of the bluffline, stopping to admire and photograph many things, including more mushrooms, ferns, and the twisted personality of the rock face. And when we reached the end of the box canyon, we were surprised to find the 80 foot waterfall running. This little valley seems to hold water better than most, and while the streambed was completely dry, there was a fair amount of water coming over the falls.
The sound of the falling water was great. And the ground around the base of the falls was covered with lush ferns everywhere. The bright sunshine above created harsh lighting conditions, but the sandstone walls are so tall here that much of the scene was in shadow (you generally DON'T want sunshine for good pictures!). We three took an hour break from the boiling world and simply wandered around below the falls, taking pictures, sitting and reflecting on life, and enjoying the coolness of the area. Something wonderful and soothing about waterfalls you know.
We returned to the truck via the same route that we had taken in - along the base of the bluffline - yet found many more things to stop and admire and photograph. Many people don't like to hike back the same way that they traveled into an area because they feel like they have already seen it, but the fact is that you will almost always see SO MUCH MORE on the trip back out!
And we sure did today. Mushrooms, wildflowers, and a cute little box turtle lined our route. Of course, you will see a lot more too if you slow down and admire the world at your feet - that is a key when the light is harsh and dull greens of summer dominate the landscape (works at other times too!).
7/19/01 I can honestly say that I have no idea what we did today - but I know it was hot and humid and much like being inside of an oven outside. I seem to remember something about a leather couch and a book, and a ceiling fan just overhead. Hum, and a cookie or two. Oh yes, and an afternoon nap! Naps are so much more fun now with Pam around.
A little while after dark I wandered out onto the back deck to see what the nighttime was up to. What I found was one of the most incredible sights I had ever witnessed here. "Pam, come out here!"
Directly overhead the sky was dark blue and filled with stars. But there was a broad band of clouds stretched across the southern sky from east to west. The leading edge of this cloud bank was feathered, and had an amazing amount of detailed patterns to it. And it was WHITE.
The stark white patterns against the blue of the sky was certainly interesting enough, but back in the cloud bank was the real show. Over the next fifteen minutes we witnessed an incredible display of lightning bolts that not only lit up the sky, but turned the cloud bank around them PURPLE! And they were the type of bolts that began as a single shaft, then quickly forked out again and again and again, finally flashing on and off, showing perhaps fifteen to twenty lines of light, all connected and all purple. We just stood there in awe. This is one of the most amazing things that I have ever seen in nature - simply beautiful beyond description - yet there was no way that I could photograph it. If I could paint, I would show you what it was like - maybe. But even then the scene would pale to what it was really like in person. I do believe that there are many things in life that are meant to be just like this - enjoy it while you can, because you cannot record it! There are not enough words to adequately describe this scene - but it will remain in my memory banks for a long time.
7/20/01 We spent most of today in town, as we hurried around to complete all of our chores (which included more than a dozen stops). Good grief, it was hot in town! All of that pavement and concrete sure does drive the temperature up. As we drove back out to the cabin, the outside temp dropped nearly ten degrees. Ah yes, wilderness living is really COOL!
Once we got everything unpacked and stowed away in proper places, I grabbed the mask and snorkel and headed down the trail to the river. Long shadows from the afternoon sun had already shaded most of the swimming hole. It looked just wonderful and rather inviting. My bright white be-hind was underwater in no time.
What a difference a week makes! Toady the water was crystal clear, with no algae - I could see all the way to the bottom, as well as a long ways ahead. The water temp was perfect - not too cool, and not too hot - just the right temp to float around in.
I worked my way around the shallow side of the pool, where there is a gravel/stone bar that drops down into the pool. Most of the bottom is covered with a thin layer of "stuff" that includes fish and critter poop. I was hunting fish nests, which would be easy to spot because the stones on the bottom of the pool where the nests are would be scraped clean of this stuff. There is usually a flock of fish hovering around the nest area too - some guarding the nest, others trying to get the eggs.
As I swam lazily along, Aspen splashed and swam and played like it was his last day on earth. All that I could see was his lower body under the water - his four feet working in perfect harmony.
I checked out several historical nest spots, but only found one of them active. I could not tell if they had already been there this year, or were simply inactive. The one nest that I did find had several sunfish around it, but not too much going on. (Sunfish and perch and bluegills all basically refer to the same type of fish.)
As I neared the shallow end of the pool I could look ahead 50 feet or so and see a large number of fish. The closer I swam the more colorful the scene got. Most of these fish were bluegills, with their BRIGHT blue and orange markings. There was a ridge of sorts of piled up stones that reached up to within a couple feet of the surface, and to the right the stone floor angled up into very shallow water, eventually rising out into the air and forming the river bank. Off to the left, it was three of four feet deep, abruptly coming to a wall of solid rock that rose out of the water.
Right at the crest of this ridge was a very active fish nest, perhaps two feet in diameter, which was filled with polished river stones of all colors. This nest has not been here before, at least in the three or four years that I have been swimming in this pool. It was obvious that the momma of the nest was a large bluegill. She was beautiful and feisty, and quite busy, as there were lots of other fish trying to get to her eggs. She would hover over the middle of the nest, nervously turning in all directions, trying to fend off several raiders at the same time.
She was doing a pretty good job, but there were always two or three other bluegills near the edge of the nest that would bend down and stick their noses down and root around in the polished stones, sucking up fresh fish eggs. Then momma would dart over and kick them out, only to turn around and find other fish doing the same thing at the other side of the nest. There is NO REST for a momma bluegill!
I had taken up a spot nearby where I had a clear view of the drama going on, and it was shallow enough that I could simply hang out there in the shallow water with my feet resting on the bottom as long as I wanted to without getting tired. I love to watch these fish nests - there is always so much going on!
The longer I stuck around, the more bluegills showed up. The crowd had grown to probably 45-50 fish - quite a swarm of them for sure. Then a couple of smallmouth bass approached slowly, swimming in formation side by side. These are the studs of the pool - larger then the perch, even young ones like these guys were. But they knew they were the kings, and it showed. At first when they approached, the other fish sort of parted and let them through - even the momma perch. The bass didn't bother the eggs though. Instead they took up a stance at opposite sides of the nest and began to defend it, just like the momma perch. The activity level of the group of fish sort of stopped when the bass first arrived, but it didn't take long for all of the movement to get back up to a fever pitch.
Then another smallmouth bass moved in - this one a bit smaller than the first two, but he was very dark, almost black. There were still the normal smallmouth bass markings there, but you could just barely see them. This black smallmouth bass never took up a position at the nest, but rather just swam back and fourth through the swarm of fish. He eventually noticed me and eased on over until he was right there in front of my face mask. "What are you?" he seemed to be asking. This guy hung around for quite some time, and while he would wander off into the frenzy now and then, he would always come back and spend time with me. I had seen several dark bass like him in years before, but never one this large. I think I'll call him Midnight.
Man, this scene was SO COLORFUL! I really do need to figure out a way to take a picture of it all. Although, perhaps it would be better if I didn't because a photograph probably would not show the true colors, nor how vibrant they were.
Just when I was about to leave the fish nest and head back upstream, HE showed up, and every fish in the pond knew it. It was Spot, my old friend from last summer. And goodness had he grown! His markings were still bright and beautiful - and there was no mistaking those spots along his belly. It had been a good winter for Spot, and it was obvious he had partaked of many crawfish and other snacks - he was about twice the size of the other bass, and much larger than Midnight. And while the other fish did acknowledge his arrival, they didn't seem to fear him, and continued to go about their business of sneaking a bite of fresh fish eggs from momma perch's nest.
After taking his time passing over the nest and touring the school of fish, Spot finally came on over to me. He hovered there in the water - with his green nose pointed right at me. And has he has done nearly every time that I have seen him, he opened his mouth wide a couple of times - his way of saying hello. Spot never has let me reach out and touch him, but he has never shown any sort of fear of me. After a few minutes of staring at each other, Spot returned to the mass of fish and just hung out for a while. Meanwhile, Midnight had gone off to be with the school, but returned to me as soon as Spot left. Wouldn't it be great if these fish could talk! I would LOVE to hear what Midnight has to say about Spot, and what Spot has to say about the old momma perch.
OK, OK, a guy can only stand so much of this, so I eventually bid my fish friends farewell and turned around and headed back up the opposite side of the pool. This was the deep side, up to eight feet, with sheer walls of rock on the sides, and giant boulders in the middle of the pool. I like to dive to the bottom here and peek under those boulders - there are almost always fish there, hanging out in the cooler water. And they are usually quite surprised to see this giant fish come a calling!
I felt like a river otter as I swam deep, then surfaced, rolled over and headed back down again. It was a lazy afternoon in a beautiful spot. The only sounds were that of my breathing through the snorkel, and of Aspen, splashing all over the place.
As I reached the upstream end of the pool once again, I could see fish everywhere. This end of the pool goes from eight feet deep on up to very shallow water in a hurry, where the stones and gravel are naturally swept free of all "stuff" because the river spills in with rushing water.
There were one, two, THREE fish nests in the shallows here. And there was a great deal of activity going on at all three. One of the nests had no momma to defend it, and there were dozens of bluegills there, all with their heads pointed down and their tails straight up in the air (water) as they nosed around in the loose gravel sucking up eggs. I don't know why no one was defending this nest, unless they simply got tired, or had to take a potty break or something.
One of the other nests was being defended by a giant bluegill, and few other fish ever snuck any eggs away from her. She had this MEAN and very determined look on her face. And while she was not as brightly colored as the other bluegills, she did have one very striking marking - her entire body was tipped with pure white all around the edges. It was like she was backlit all the time, surrounded by rim light.
More and more fish gathered around. At one point I bet there were a couple of hundred bluegills and bass in the immediate area. That third nest was guarded by a pair of smallmouth bass - both about the same size, with bright markings.
While I was hovering there in about five feet of water, mesmerized by all the fish, I got quite a shock. A small minnow or something bit me, and yes, bit me THERE! YIKES!, I should have been wearing shorts!!! From that point on I had to use at least one hand to cover up.
Once I recovered from my attack, I moved in a little closer until I was right in the thick of things, and surrounded by fish. Just then a beam of sunshine broke through the tree canopy above and lit up the water. HOLY SMOKES I was blinded by color!!! Not only did the blue and orange and reds of the perch shine more brilliantly than ever, but I discovered that I was engulfed in a school of several hundred TINY minnows, each mostly transparent, yet reflecting back silver and blue light. WOW, it was gorgeous! This was a good as any tropical spot I had even dove in before. (I used to teach under photography in the Virgin Islands, and once spent several weeks scuba diving in Hawaii.) This was indeed heaven underwater.
Once I parted the school of minnows with my hand, I discovered that Spot was there too, just hanging around in the water and looking at me. He must have followed me all the way from the far end of the pool - nearly a hundred yards. Spot is the friendliest fish that I have ever known. And each time that we meet, I try to give him a lesson or two about people and fishing rods and lures - JUST SAY NO I tell him! While I know that people do fish this river every now and then, I hope Spot never takes the bait.
It was a very difficult thing to do, but I could not spend the rest of my life in this pool, so I reluctantly drug myself out of the water and up onto the large boulder in the middle of the stream where my clothes were to dry off. Then I remembered the bear poop - I just had to go take a look and see if there were any new piles there.
So I climbed down from the boulder and waded upstream to where the bear poop rocks were. Most of the poop had been washed away by the rain on Monday, and there were no new piles. But on the way back I did find a new pile of bear poop, on top of another boulder, and right next to an older pile. My friend Glenn from Harrison identified the berries from the last bear poop photo as being wild black cherries. He added that "Those berries make great homemade jelly, but I would recommend finding the tree instead of gathering them where you found them!" Good thinking.
The part of the river where the bear bathroom is runs shallow, and is filled with shiner minnows. When the light is right, you can look through the tele up on the back of the cabin and actually see the minnows turning over - little flashes of light from under the water. Pam was looking at this spot the other day through the tele and found a great blue heron working the shallow water. She watched the big bird stalk and then dip its head under the water and snag a fish.
An update on our friend Carrie who has been expecting a baby - there is no news, and we all are still waiting for the stork to arrive. Of course, since the stork is on vacation, this great blue heron was supposed to make the delivery in its place. It seems the heron wants to hang out here at Cloudland instead of flying north to make the delivery - sorry Carrie!
The hike back up the steep hill to the cabin was a tough one, but I made it OK. My clothes were soaked from top to bottom within just a few minutes. Once I reached the top, I moved one of the deck chairs directly under one of the new porch fans and turned the fan on full blast - that is where you could find me for the next half hour, as I thought about the cool skinny dipping hole, and Spot and Midnight, and the little fish that bit me! I love summertime in the Ozarks!!!
7/21/01 My first memory today was of a bright orange ball shining through the trees - it was another hot and lazy summer morning, and a great time to sleep in - at least until that orange ball turned to yellow.
I am sitting here at the computer in the cabin looking out the window at a very hazy scene - it looks just like the Blue Ridge around here these days. And there is an Indigo bunting sitting on the humming bird feeder - he has been there for nearly an hour. I have been typing away updating the journal for the past three hours - it really adds up when you don't type every day.
Pam is on a window-cleaning terror. In fact, she has been cleaning up the entire cabin this week. I'm not sure she realized when she started the window stuff this morning that there are at least 24 windows in the cabin, and most of them have TWO halves that need to be cleaned (that's actually 48 windows with two sides each!). The windows can be taken out for easy cleaning, so I have been helping with that little chore because many of the windows are very heavy (all double glass, filled with gas in between, with wood frames).
At some point today I will have to tear myself away from the world up here on the hill and head back down to the river and see what my friends are up to - good thing I have an understanding wife (and one that will join me as soon as her back is better - SOON I hope!)...
It was after 5 before I got to head down the trail to the river. A mostly uneventful trip - I tried to get down the steep hillside as fast as I could, took a quick dip in the old swimming hole (didn't take my mask or snorkel, and in fact went in with all of my clothes on - got to protect those vitals!), then it was back up to the cabin at full speed. This trip was just for exercise.
There was one highlight though. As I was swimming from one end of the pool to the other, this pesky horse fly kept attacking me. He never quite got his teeth into my flesh, but he was as annoying as heck. I finally stopped and gathered my wits to see if I could wipe him out. He seemed to know what I was up to because all he did was circle me at top speed. I needed him to land somewhere so that I could get a good shot at him, but he had other ideas. While I stood there in the chest-deep water, I noticed that several fish gathered around, including a few large bass (one of them was probably Spot). I guess they wondered what all the commotion was. Just about that time the horse fly dive bombed me and landed right on top of my bald head. My reaction was instant and deadly - SLAP! One dead horse fly.
Of course, horse flies are never really dead until you liquefy them - rub them into the ground or something else hard until there is nothing solid left of them. (I have seen many a mangled horse fly recompose itself and fly away.) But I could not do that out there in the water, so I did the next best thing. No, I take that back - I did the BEST thing that you could do with a horse fly - I tossed him out into the water. There was still some life left in him, and I just know he was gathering himself up for another attack. But my buddies the fish had other ideas. They made a beeline for the fly, and within seconds the surface of the water where the fly was wiggling around exploded, and the fly was sucked down into the belly of a smallmouth bass. Justice for sure.
Pam went on her own little adventure, taking by far the longest hike she had attempted since hurting her back in February - four miles. On the way back she stopped off at Bob's garden and gathered a few goodies for our dinner. And then she came face to face with a GIANT wild turkey! Few things in life will scare the pants off of you like a wild turkey - they will actually take your breath away and make your heart stop.
7/22/01 It was a beautiful golden sunrise today, although a wee bit warm and muggy. We loaded up the truck and drove down into Boxley Valley, and then to the end of an old road just past where the Whiteley School/Church used to be, to where the wilderness area boundary is. Pam headed back to the cabin while Aspen and I struck out on a journey back to the cabin via a different route.
My reason for doing this hike today was to follow an old road through the wilderness to the spot where Haley was found on the river - this would be the easiest way for the TV crew to hike in, but I had not been that way before, and wanted to see exactly what it was all about.
The old roadbed that I would be following was not shown all the way on a topo map, but it was shown on the Trails Illustrated map, although some folks had told me that the placement on that map was not accurate. I intended to find out.
This is the same road that leads to the Hedges homesite - Harold and Margaret Hedges were leaders with Neil Compton in the fight to save the Buffalo River back in the 1960's. They had a wonderful home, but it was burned down by rednecks one year (while the Hedges were away for Christmas) and never rebuilt.
Within ten minutes of leaving I was soaked to the bone from head to foot - the humidity was really high! The road was pretty easy to hike along, although it was grown up as I expected - with weeds and brush taller than me. But there was somewhat of a "path" down there on the ground somewhere, and I managed to follow it pretty good.
At one point the main road began to drop on down the hillside - I knew this was not correct, so had to backtrack to try to figure it out. I was also using a GPS unit w/a topo map loaded in it, and much to my surprise the darn thing was actually working!
Both of the paper maps showed a split in the road where I was at, but there was no split evident on the ground. They also showed a pond in a field - there was somewhat of a field there, but no pond in sight. After five minutes of looking around, I did locate the pond, and eventually the correct road, and I was back on my way again.
It was kind of fun using the GPS unit with the built-in map - while it was not nearly as detailed as the paper maps, I was able to follow along my route and see the location of the river a couple of hundred feet below me (even though I could not actually see the river). I had marked the spot that I was looking for on the GPS map, and before long it came into view on the GPS screen. It would have been nearly impossible to have navigated this route with the GPS alone - indeed it really didn't help at all in the actual route, which was simply along the old roadbed (not shown on the GPS map). But it was fun getting to see those other points around me on the screen, and my relationship to them.
The road that I was on actually went right on past the spot that I had plugged into the GPS as a waypoint named "Haley Find," but that spot was down on the river and I was up high - as much as two or three hundred feet higher. So I went on past that point and continued on the roadbed, knowing that it would eventually curve on around and drop down to the river.
Just as the road made a 90 degree turn to head on down the hill, I realized that the topo map that I had with me was missing. That was not a good sign. While I did not need the map to navigate, I certainly did not want to litter the wilderness with it. I put down my fanny pack and GPS unit and headed back to retrace my steps to find the map.
A MILE AND HALF later I found the map! That was the last point that I had looked at it, and I guess I did not get it stowed back into the fanny pack too well. That little mistake cost me THREE miles of extra hiking. But it also gave me a chance to bushwhack on down to the river and see if I could find a shorter route to the river.
I left the old road and headed steeply down the hillside towards the river, and much to my surprise I was closer to the river than I had thought. It turned out that the road placement on the Trails Illustrated map had the road much farther up the hillside than it actually was. These Trails Illustrated maps are pretty good, and I use them all the time for trails all over the United States, but the ones for the Buffalo River often leave off important information, or have things plotted in the wrong place, like this road. (The Hawksbill Crag Trail - one of the most popular trails of all - is not even shown on the map!) I love maps, but always tend to only use them for reference and prefer to use my own skills to find my way through the wilderness.
OK, so I made it down to the river and found the "Haley Find" spot, then hiked on up the old road until I came to my pack. The trip up to that point was about three miles from the trailhead (plus the EXTRA three miles to go back and find the map!). I had been able to keep in contact with Pam back at the cabin all the time with our little FRS radios - these things actually work pretty darn good out here! It was getting warmer and wetter with each step, but I still felt pretty good.
Next I wanted to spend a bit more time searching for the possible cave where Haley had spent her second night out in. I have a feeling that I know which cave it was now, but I still wanted to check several others in the area to see if I could find any evidence in them. We headed on down the hillside, bushwhacking into Pine Hollow and back to the river, then looked at several cave openings along the base of the hill there.
There had been TONS of spider webs across the trail all morning, and I had eaten my share of the juicy little devils (taste just like chicken ya know). They get pretty bad in the summertime here - if you survive the heat and humidity, the spider webs will kill you! I often carry a mesh head net for just such times, but usually don't use it because it looks so silly (I know - WHO is going to see me out here in the middle of nowhere!). But I almost reached my limit today, when I walked right into a big web that was at eye level. Having a sticky spider web clinging to my face was bad enough, but Mr. Spider himself landed right on my left eye - I could feel his legs crawling up my naked eyeball!!! That is a really strange feeling indeed. Fortunately a quick blink got rid of him, but the thought of that gives me the creeps even now as I am writing this several hours later.
After taking a look at all the caves, I gave a holler on the radio up to Pam that I was coming home, and to get a tall glass of COLD water ready! It was 10am, and I zeroed the GPS trip computer to see if it would calculate the hiking distance from the mouth of Dug Hollow on up to the cabin. I drunk a liter of water, ate a granola bar, then headed my soaked body into the hillside.
I guess the seven miles that I had already hiked to this point (some of it at top speed) had taken a toll on me, because as soon as I hit the really steep stuff, I could tell that I was really tired. Up, up, and UP we went, Aspen in the lead.
The elevation actually went by pretty fast - 100', 200', 300', 400' - the GPS also spits out elevation data. I was heading STRAIGHT up the hillside, and this is one of the steepest hillsides in the wilderness. But my energy was draining rapidly, and before we reached the base of the bluff, I gave out and had to stop. I was beat - the heat and humidity had gotten to me.
I downed another liter of water, and the last granola bar, then dug deep for any reserve strength and headed on back UP the hillside. I made it to the base of the bluff, then on up through it, and finally to the level bench where the cabin was located. Then I drug my whipped and dripping and stinky body on over and plopped down on the back porch, where my lovely wife had a liter of cold water and ceiling fan on full blast waiting for me. It had taken me 35 minutes to climb the big hill - a total distance of .85 miles (according to the GPS), and an 800 foot elevation gain.
As it turns out, the TV crew may come in a different route anyway, with mules hauling their equipment, but I am glad to know what this easier route is all about. It is a pretty good route for hikers to use to access the heart of the wilderness too. Always great to see new country!
7/23/01 Another hot, muggy, hazy day in the Ozarks. We spent the morning working at the cabin and up in the office. Pam was on a cleaning spree, and I was not about to get in her way. I left in the afternoon to hike on down to the Crag to take a picture to use as a mock-up for the Haley book.
I decided to take the GPS unit with me to get a few coordinates. When I arrived at the Crag I found the scene still quite hazy, which is not very good for taking pictures. And the sun was playing tag with me - it would be out for a minute or two, then back behind a cloud, then back out again. That meant that the landscape would be spotty with patterns of sun and shade - a disaster for taking pictures as far as I was concerned. But still I needed a snapshot, so I set up the equipment.
Just about the time the light got right for my picture, the battery power in my digital camera gave out. I made a quick hike back up to the truck and found a couple of flashlights with AA batteries, so decided to use them instead of driving all the way back to the cabin for new ones. That would prove to be a mistake!
The new batteries fizzled as soon as I put them into the camera (electronic cameras take a LOT more juice than little flashlights do). I didn't feel like going all the way back out again and to the cabin, and then back down to the Crag - after all, the lighting was still terrible.
But my afternoon trip to the Crag would not be wasted. I had also brought along a pair of binoculars to check on a mysterious red object across from the Crag that a friend from Harrison had reported. It turned out to be a very odd object indeed - it was a black gum tree, in full, brilliant SCARLET color! It was partially hidden behind a wall of giant oak trees and so was difficult to tell what it really was with the naked eye. Man, I know these black gums turn color early in the fall (late September to early October), but in JULY?
And then I decided to dig out the GPS unit again and go on a little hike. I followed the trail from the Crag on over to Haley's Falls. From that point I took a route that I have decided was the probable route that Haley must have taken when she got lost. I have been pondering this for nearly three months now, and have come up with a scenario for her entire hike that makes sense. And I wanted to hike it with the GPS creating the "track" or log of the route, and also to calculate the actual distance that she had hiked.
After following the route today around the area where she got lost, then along the trail back near the Crag, and finally over to our cabin, it all made perfect sense to me - a logical route for anyone to have taken, and it is understandable how she got away from her grandparents without being spotted, and headed on the trail towards the cabin. She was out of the immediate search area in a hurry. All of this will be detailed in my book (along with a map).
But that is only the first part of the story, and there were still a couple of unanswered questions in my mind about the middle part of her journey. I would look into them tomorrow.
When I arrived back at the cabin the day had grown very hot and humid, and I was soaked and tired - so was Aspen. At some point during our hike he sped off up the hillside after something, and chased it full speed for ten or fifteen minutes. He had been out there in the woods with me for several hours without any water at all, and was running fast and working hard. By the time we reached the cabin he was one tired puppy, and probably had a touch of heat stroke. He laid on the back deck huffing and puffing like crazy for 30 minutes. Amber and I poured water over him which seemed to help. An hour later he was still breathing hard.
Speaking of Amber, good grief this little lady got into high gear herself today. First off, she spent several hours packing and repacking her bags for her first ever trip away to camp. She will be spending the rest of this week at Junior Naturalist Camp at the Ozark Natural Science Center. I have never seen a kid so EXCITED to be going away to camp before! (I would LOVE to have gone to a camp like this when I was a kid.)
Once all of her stuff was neatly packed away and ready to go, and we had Aspen all cooled off, the two of us began to work out in front of the cabin (while Pam continued her cleaning spree inside). I spent my time loading up two large piles of brush that we had cleared out from inside the circle drive into a trailer and dumping them elsewhere (they will later be fed into a mulcher).
Amber decided that she liked a new wheel barrow that we had just brought home, and so she began to go to work with it. We have been lining the short trail from the front of the cabin up through the now open woods to her fort with rocks - "rocks with COLOR on them" I have told everyone. Heck, Amber took it upon herself to take that wheel barrow out and load up a few rocks for herself (it is a full-size wheel barrow). First off, I don't know how in the world she ever got some of these rocks up and into the wheel barrow all by herself, and then to push the darn thing through the woods back to the trail. She is only eight, and a slim and lightweight eight at that, but I guess a lot of that must be pure muscle!
Just as I had loaded up the second pile of brush and had backed the trailer into a spot in the woods nearby to unload them, I turned around and saw Amber heading my direction - with the wheel barrow filled with branches - she was indeed doing her part to help out!
By the time I finished up my little job is was nearly dark and I was soaked to the bone with sweat. The cabin was so clean that I was afraid to enter it. Pam met me at the door with a large glass of fresh ice tea, which disappeared in a few gulps. It sure is nice to have a family around!
7/24/01 I was up and back out on the trail at first light - well before sunrise. It was actually a bit cooler this morning - 72 degrees. I had on a long sleeve shirt and pants, and plenty of bug spray. I returned to the trail just below the cabin where I had stopped the GPS recording of Haley's route yesterday, and turned the unit back on again. She had already hiked two miles by the time she had reached this point. That would not have been too long of a hike for a six year old, but it would prove to be just the beginning of her ordeal that day.
One question that I have always had is how Haley could have hiked on past our cabin - which she reported seeing - yet not see the new gazebo, which she would have hiked within 50 feet of, and was between her and the cabin. As I walked along the trail and turned the corner just below the gazebo I got my answer. The brush just below the gazebo is so thick that you really can't see the gazebo from the trail - especially if you are less than four feet tall.
I continued along the level bench that Haley had followed and tried to imagine what it was like for her, what she saw, might she have been thinking, and why she went this way or did not go that way. The more I hiked along, the more it all made perfect sense. Then I came to the fence she had reported, and on and on. Parts of the hike were VERY tough going, even for me. Other stretches were pretty easy, and all of it continued to make sense.
The last real question in my mind about her hike is why she decided to go down through the bluffline, and when, and where. I have always kind of known the where, but not the others. Today I figured them out too (but you'll have to wait for the book for he details!).
As I rounded the nose of the ridge and headed up into the Dug Hollow drainage, I came to a neat place where several blocks of sandstone had rolled down from the bluff above and landed on the level bench. These are blocks probably 20 feet square - giant's playing blocks. I don't know what it is about this spot, but there is something magical about it.
I paused just for a moment to take a few deep breaths and soak up the place, and then turned around and saw one of the most magnificent sights I had ever seen out here. The red ball of a sun was rising over the far ridge - hanging there in a sea of haze and silhouetted hills, all visible through the low reaching branches of huge black gum and oak trees that were towering overhead. It was beautiful, just beautiful.
Then I made my way on down through the bluffline and over into Magnolia Canyon. And another scene stopped me dead in my tracks there. That same sunshine was lighting up the upper reaches of the canyon wall - everything else was still pretty dim. All I could do was lean up against the sandstone wall and admire.
This was as far as I needed to go with the GPS today, so I turned it off and headed back to the cabin. It was a quick trip. I was soaked to the bone once again (the clothes washer has been getting a workout this summer!).
It is mid-morning now and still very hazy outside. There is a slight breeze, and lots of birds out. The scarlet tanagers - with their brilliant red bodies and contrasting black wings - have been replaced with summer tanagers, which are still bright red, but not nearly as BLAZING as the others. Lots of Indigo buntings close by too.
7/25/01 It was just another typical day at Cloudland, starting with a catered breakfast for 13, five truckloads of camera gear spread out all over the cabin, a live feed going from the "Cloudland Studio" to NBC News headquarters in New York, and an afternoon hike out to Hawksbill Crag with Haley Zega. Yep, just another typical day.
Haley's grandparents Jay and Joyce Hale arrived just after daylight and began preparing this wonderful breakfast feast that included homemade sourdough pancakes, bacon, sausage, fresh fruit, juice, and all sorts of other goodies. Then the trucks began to appear - FIVE loads of camera gear, along with a crew of seven from Dateline NBC.
We spent 30 minutes out on the back deck eating and getting to know one another a bit (Pam had picked three batches of wildflowers from the meadow below to decorate the tables) - and, of course, the view was pretty darn nice. (The food was super!).
Then I piled into one of the vehicles with the producer and some of the crew for a quick scouting trip down to Hawksbill Crag. While we were out there we radioed back to the cabin for them to begin the setup for Jay and Joyce's interview, which they would do on the back deck.
When we arrived back at the cabin there were dozens of hardshell cases laid out on the west deck - cameras, lights, stands, batteries, wires, more wires, more wires, and many other things which I had never seen or heard of before. It took them a couple of hours just to get everything set up. We had to remodel a bit of the back deck - including removing one of the swings and a section of handrail. But the shot they had set up was really nice - Jay and Joyce would be sitting right in front of that incredible view of the wilderness.
The rest of us were busy inside going over plans for the next couple of days for shooting locations and stuff, and how we were going to be able to fit everything in.
Haley and her mom had arrived at 1am here to spend the night, so even though my own darling Amber was off at nature camp for the rest of the week, there was a little girl here romping around and playing with the adults (she did sleep in a little). It was sort of odd reliving all of the details of the search and rescue saga while Haley was standing right over there.
At one point Haley caught a walking stick. She named it "Twiggy" and kept it in our cookie jar. Haley is obviously not afraid of nature.
ALL QUIET ON THE SET. I hooked up a hard-wired telephone out on the deck and they sent the audio portion of the recording session over the phone to the studio in New York - so that they could begin typing it all up (for editing purposes, and for closed captioning?).
Once the actual taping began, everyone had to be absolutely still and quiet. I wanted to hear every word, so Pam and I got comfortable in chairs outside nearby and watched. It was quite an interview, as the correspondent (Rob Stafford from Chicago) took them through a series of questions from the very beginning of their hike with Haley to the glorious end. It got pretty emotional at times, and while the two of them held up great, I was near tears more than once.
Just as Rob was getting to the end of his questions - and I mean he only had one, perhaps two left, the sky opened up and it began to rain. They had no telling how many tens of thousands of dollars worth of camera and sound and lighting equipment sitting out there on the open deck. They were all quite calm and collected and covered up some of it, hauled in other parts, and left the rest to get wet. Just about that time both phone lines went dead.
It rained for a while - seemed like ages - but eventually did let up enough for them to continue the taping and finish up with the session on the deck. Then Jay and Joyce prepared lunch - which included several loaves of homemade bread, and a bunch of other wonderful goodies that Joyce had cooked up. The crew set up a couple of lights and filmed Jay and Joyce putting it all together in the kitchen. GOOD GRIEF, we didn't know that the Cloudland kitchen might be seen by MILLIONS!!! Good thing Pam cleaned it all up yesterday.
And then we actually got to eat it all - not very typical Cloudland fare though - it was delicious!
After lunch, they shot a few scenes of me typing away here at the computer, working on the journal (I bet I typed 10,000 words while they were shooting). Then two camera crews shot images from inside and outside the cabin.
The big moment that all of us and waited for finally arrived next - Haley's interview. They didn't want to scare her by putting her in a studio environment with all the lights and stuff, so they picked a simple location down on the lower deck, up against one of the stone walls, and shot it with a single light and two cameras. The entire crew was gathered around and hung on every word. Of course, none of us were really sure if she was going to say anything at all.
She did talk, and actually did a pretty good job of fielding Rob's questions. When it was all over, she passed out Reese's Peanut Butter cups to everyone (Rob had given her a bag of goodies, which included them).
The next shoot was down at Hawksbill Crag, so we all packed up and drove to the trailhead, then loaded up equipment and started down the trail.
They shot a neat scene with Rob out on the Crag - the lighting was very nice - then some stuff with me walking down below the Crag. But the real scene was when Haley and her granddad walked out onto the Crag - Haley got right on out to the very edge with him. I can only relate this story second hand because I was down below, at the bottom of the bluff, waiting for my cue. There were a number of two-way radios on site, and I could hear what was going on through them. It was one of those unexpected and unscripted scenes that was priceless.
We hiked out as darkness approached - back to the cabin for more shooting. In fact, it was well after 10pm before the crew was finished and had packed up and gone. They wanted to get exterior shots of the cabin all lit up at night - just like it had been during the ordeal. Dateline does not try to re-create anything - nor pretends to do so - but they do want to show as much of the actual things as possible.
I must pause here for a moment and tell you about the crew. The producer was Carol Gable, who had been out here before. She and her associate producer Deanna Dimuro were both from the NBC headquarters in New York City (although Carol lives in South Carolnia, and Deanna is a recent transplant from California). The four-man team (two photographers and two sound/light guys) of Bob, Bob (known as "The Bobs"), Anthony, and Jack was from Houston. And Rob was from Chicago. I must say that while they all came here from big cities, they could not have been nicer, kinder, or more considerate people. It wa