Updated 12/31/03 A short greeting to all of you!
2004
Arkansas Wild & Free wall calendars (almost sold out)
2004
Arkansas Wild & Free wall calendars (almost sold out)
Cloudland Deck Cam 12/31/03, 8:41am |
12/1/03 A very strange thing happened last night after we got home from four very long days on the road - I didn't turn on my computer. Not to check e-mail. Or any of the dozen or so message boards that I look at every day. Hadn't been on the net in more than four days. Instead, I brewed a cup of tea, sat in my favorite old leather chair, propped my feet up, and read until it was time to go to bed. I think spending much of the day in Amish country took me back to the good old days before electronics took over my life. It was great. Of course, when the bell went off at 5:30 this morning, I ran downstairs and fired up the computer, and have been here most of the day - now late at night, and the moon is shining bright, along with a sky filled with a zillion stars.
After spending turkey day at grandma's house, the girls and I spent the next three days working on Pam's next guidebook. We hiked more than 20 trails - some of them absolutely GREAT trails; others quite dismal; and the rest someplace in between. We found trails that did not exist, and discovered where many trails actually went (instead of where they were shown on the map). We got discouraged after finding so many really bad trails, but I kept telling Pam that our job was to seek out not only the good trails, but the bad ones too, and to NOT put them in a guidebook! And the more bad information we got from maps and other guidebooks, the more important her guidebook would be. Of course, it is kind of difficult for someone to believe all of that while they are standing right in the middle of nowhere that is supposed to be a wonderful trail!
We hiked some really GRAND trails too! In fact one state park that we went to had ten such trails, and we hiked each and every one of them, eager to document them in the guidebook. It's going to be a great book.
Pam has spent much of the past month on the computer and telephone putting together a list of more than 250 short and easy hiking trails in the state of Missouri that she plans to hike for her next book project (from literally all over the state - including several up on the Iowa border). Some of these trails are in other guidebooks, many are not. It will be the very first guidebook devoted to short and easy trails in Missouri for kids and adults. Amber is going to hike as many as she can too, and come up with a whole new set of tips and Wise Old Owl sayings for the new book. And grandma and grandpa will be on the trails as well. And even this old man will tag along some like I did this past week. Of course, I have my eyes on Missouri as well, and am trying to see if there are enough interesting waterfalls there to create a guidebook. It will be a long winter for all of us, but filled with many new and great adventures. We'll keep you posted!
Here are a couple of examples of why the frustration level got up pretty high. At one big state park, the major trail in the park is a one mile loop, much of it being boardwalk (that means stroller-accessible!). While doing several other trails in the same park we kept seeing the literature for this trail, and that detailed info for this and other trails were available at the trail center near the trailhead. We had to drive a long way around the back side of the park to get into the area where the trail was located, and when we got close to it, there was a gate across the road - closed for the winter!!! It was supposed to be one of the very best trails in Missouri, yet it is closed for the winter!
At another state park, Pam went in to the visitor center there and asked about hiking trails for kids. She had five or six on her list for that particular park, but she always wants to hear what the staff has to recommend. They told her about a couple, and when Pam asked about one short trail in particular that actually began at the back door of the center, she was told that there really wasn't anything on that trail for kids. So Pam went off to hike her other trails. Being the stubborn type that I am, I decided to go hike that little trail behind the center, just to see what it was (I like trail names, and will often go out of my way to hike one just because of a neat name, like this one had). Well, son of a gun, I almost immediately came across a numbered station, and then another, and another, and another. It was obvious there was some sort of booklet available for this trail that had interpretive information about the spots along the trail - EXACTLY the type of trails we were looking for! So I returned to the center and asked about a brochure, and the guy behind the counter produced a ten-page booklet filled with all sorts of info FOR KIDS about the trail! He told me that trail was especially for kids, and that they led 5 or 6 hikes a day in the summer JUST FOR KIDS! Needless to say that trail will be included in the book, no matter what they told Pam the first time around at the desk.
On the other side of the coin, we found one trail at another park that goes out into this wonderful wildflower-studded meadow that should be bursting with color all summer long. It is short, nearly level, and easy to follow. The trail was not listed on any map of the park, nor is in any guidebook that we could find. Another trail we hiked the same day that was supposed to be uninteresting goes right down the middle of this incredible ridgetop glade area - one of the largest I've ever seen in this part of the country. We almost didn't even hike this trail because the mileage listed was too long to be included in our book - but the mileage was actually much shorter than was listed, and well within our three-mile limit. A terrific little trail at the end of the road, and just perfect for kids and adults too!
We purchased a brand new measuring wheel just for this new book project - the other one had more than 2,000 trail miles on it, including both the Ozark Highlands Trail (three entire trips on it), Ouachita Trail, and just about every single hiking trail in Arkansas. It was time for retirement. The new one is a bright, shiny orange color, and fits Amber's hands perfectly.
Back at home, the e-mails, phone calls, and book orders had piled up while we were gone. But I was determined to get everything caught up today, and we succeeded. All book and calendar orders went out the door on time either via post office or UPS, and all e-mails were answered! And we even got three very large picture book orders processed, autographed, and packed up for delivery. We have a very special deal for corporate clients who order large quantities of books direct from us - including a hefty discount, autographed books, and speedy service. Today we processed and shipped five cases of Arkansas Spring books to a doctor who is giving them out to his patients; seven cases of Wilderness Reflections books to a hospital to give out to their doctors; eight cases of Buffalo River Wilderness books to a private holding company to give out to their employees; and another large batch of picture books and trail guides to a bank that is going to give them away to customers for Christmas. I absolutely love processing these sorts of orders - not really because we make a lot of money on them - because we don't - but because I know so many people will get the gift of our wonderful wilderness to look at for many years to come. If you or someone you know needs a great deal on a quantity of special picture books, send them my way and we'll take care of them!
It will be a very hectic week for us, as always. Tomorrow there will be a video photographer here to tape a series of interviews with both me and William McNamara that will become part of the Arkansas.com web site (you'll be able to log onto their site later this year and get a 360 degree view of Cloudland!). Later in the week we'll be doing a live radio remote from a bookstore in Harrison. Then I will travel to Hot Springs to do a book signing at the Books A Million store there. And on Monday the very last public slide programs of the season will be at the Saline County Library in Benton. Somewhere in there Pam will travel back up to Missouri to hike another dozen or two trails. And spend much of this week transcribing the trails that we just hiked this past week.
Sorry, but I just had to pass on this little bit of inside info about how some large bookstore chains operate. We got a call from a home office last week - they needed 75 picture books for a specific customer at their store in Hot Springs. AND they needed them in the store by today (this was last Wednesday). No problem - I was happy to box them all up and ship them out. UPS would get them to Hot Springs by today via regular ground delivery at a cost of about $25 total. But nope, the home office could not do it that way. They insisted that I ship all the books OVERNIGHT to their warehouse on the east coast, then they would turn right around and ship all the books OVERNIGHT to the store in Hot Springs. The shipping cost alone for doing that exceeded $600! The home office just threw $575 in the trash can. Good grief. You would expect for the government to operate that way, but not private industry.
OK, enough shop talk. I must tell you that the wilderness is just spectacular right now, I mean, with its newly winterized coat on. The trees are all grown and gray and from a distance are quite soft. The underbrush and especially any meadows are all smooth browns. The forest floor is all brown and even as far as one can see. While there is really very little actual color out there right now, somehow it is very pleasing to the eye, and to the heart, and to the soul. An amble through the fields and forests right now is a delightful experience, one with no worries of bugs or snakes or poison ivy. It is peaceful, and well, just wonderful to be out and about. A bald eagle kept us company much of today, riding what little air currents there were, and basking in the warm sunshine. The rivers far below reflected bright silver sunshine back up to us, and kept up a steady hushed hum or their rushing waters. I cherish days like today, that time right in between the seasons. Tomorrow I hear that winter is on the way, and the soft colors and feel of the wilderness will become harsh and threatening - and, of course, I LOVE that too!
Time to put this post to bed, and me to follow, after a short stroll out into the cool moonlit night, and a dip in the steaming bubbles...
A couple of shots of the evening sky the other night - winter is great
for blazing sky scenes!
12/4/03 Nice and toasty inside by the fireplace today, midday. Outside it looks like it wants to snow, but not quite yet. The temp has been hovering in the mid 30's for a day or so. Early this morning there was a lot of moisture in the air - sort of like snow just hanging in there, but not really snow. It is the sort of damp and cold air that you can take deep into your lungs, and taste it on the way in. It is just wonderful out there. Of course, it is quite nice in here too, but I much prefer the outside air.
I've made three or four trips up to the office today, and each time I do the sound up there amazes me. At first this morning I thought it was hailing - there was a barrage of crashes on the metal roof, one after another after another. Naaa, it couldn't be hail. Must be a hungry and very active squirrel that is crunching through a batch of hickory nuts. But when I first stepped outside to look, there was not a squirrel in sight, only a few birds. Upon closer inspection I discovered that the blackgum trees that tower over the little office building were filled with two things - blackgum berries just ripe for eating, and cedar waxwings. I have always loved these little birds with their caps on. The only show up in the winter, and make quick work of berry trees like these black gums. Goodness they were hard at work up there! Sounded like they were knocking off many more berries than they were consuming though.
They continued their quest to strip the branches for nearly two hours as I quietly went back and forth. And then, all of a sudden, silence. Nothing. Dead still. A peek outside revealed not a single bird in sight, nor any berries! Mission accomplished, and they moved on to the next clump of blackgums.
Night before last we had another type of noise here. We were pounded with heavy winds all night long, along with lots of rain - at least it sounded like a lot of hard rain, but the gauge didn't catch but only a half inch or so - could have been that the rain was blowing sideways so hard it didn't have a chance to ever come down to earth! But not only were the winds and rain heavy, but the winds were making noises neither my bride nor I had ever heard before. Really odd sounds. Just the combination of the winds, rain, and direction blasting through the trees I guess. We need to get a good sound recording system out here for things like that. There is a bit of instrumental music in one of my current slide programs that always reminds me of wind - music from the Love Story sound track. I can always close my eyes and be taken away far out into the wilderness when I hear that music, and the wind is blowing through the forest. Man I've got that music in my head right now....
Speaking of that slide program, if you are coming to our last program of the year on Monday in Benton and plan to buy books you had better get there early - we should be all set up by 5:30, although the actual program doesn't start until 6:30 (but we may tweak that and start a few minutes early). The library closed down at 8pm, which doesn't give me too much time in between slide shows to ramble on like I am prone to do!
Our good friend from Hot Springs, Erna, stopped by this morning with a big platter of cookies and a half gallon of freesh-squeezed orange juice. We can only hope some of the cookies make it until Amber gets home from school!
By the way, we have been getting quite a few e-mails from our Missouri Journal readers with suggestions for trails to hike to include in Pam's new guidebook. While Pam already has more than 250 trails on her list to hike, keep those suggestions coming, especially ones that you think are great for kids. You may not be giving her any actual new trails that she doesn't already know about (but you never know), getting that sort of feedback from trail users is always great to have and you can never have enough. ALSO, any suggestions for waterfalls in Missouri would be most appreciated as well (on public land).
12/5/03 I was buried deep in the computer when Pam returned from the bus stop at first light. There was a large fire blazing away in the fireplace. The temp outside was 32, but the wind was howling, which sent the wind chill down into single digits. "There's SNOW on the road!" she said. Yippie, coyote! You might remember that I absolutely love snow, especially in the Ozarks. I ran out into the chilly air to see, took off my slippers, and slid across the lower deck. Not really all that much snow, more like a thin layer of "snail" (a cross between snow and hail - sort of compacted snow). But that would make it official - the first snow of the season at Cloudland!
We're doing a live radio remote at the Treasure House bookstore in Harrison later this morning. I don't expect too many folks to get out in the middle of the day, during the week, in this frigid weather, just to buy a book. But I think they will be offering everything in the store at 30% off, so who knows. It will be fun to talk about the books on the air. The last time I did a live radio thing it was actually an hour-long call in talk show for a station in Ft. Smith. I was in Colorado at the time, and remember freezing my fanny off while standing at an open outside phone booth in ten degree weather, up to my ankles in fresh snow (it was in the spring, and about 70 degrees back in Arkansas).
I have two goals for the upcoming weekend - one, to keep the FIRE going. And two, to get out and do some exploring in the wilderness. It would be great to have some ice on the walls, but I don't know if we have enough moisture in the ground for the seepage required for that yet. No matter, I plan to go to some of my favorite wet bluff areas and have a look...
12/6/03 Aspen came running back to me and all I could see was red. Bright red. BLOOD red. His face was covered with it. Oh, no, what had he done?
The morning began easy enough, with the cabin waking up early, Pam and Amber heading out to Missouri, and me left behind with our good friend Peter Van Den Heuvel, who had come out to watch the cabin while we were gone this weekend - I was still at the cabin because of the book signing being cancelled. Soon after the ladies hit the road Peter and I headed out into the woods. It was a cool, crisp, wonderful winter morning in the Ozarks, with the temp in the upper 20's. No wind at all. We headed on out the trail towards the East meadow, and then had planned to drop on down into Dug Hollow and see if we could find any icicles. That is when Aspen came running up and dripping blood, more blood that I had ever seen on a living animal before.
After a quick examination I could not tell if Aspen had been injured or he had been eating some dead animal. He quickly ran off into the woods and we followed. Soon he showed me what all the blood was about. For the very first time in his career here that I can recall, he had successfully pulled down a squirrel. Or should I say the DOGS had done so - he and Lucy always work as a team, and I could not tell who had done the deed, only that Aspen was covered with blood. Normally when this dog has a small critter or piece of trash that he does not want to give up, it can be quite a struggle to get it away from him. I was not looking forward to anything like that on this peaceful morning. "NO. DROP IT!" And boom, he did so immediately and then trotted off out into the woods once again, leading us down towards Dug Hollow. While he is not exactly a squirrel dog, we have never been too concerned with his time spent chasing them (or vice versa), mostly because we thought he would never actually catch one, but also because we are literally overrun out here with squirrels (they frequently shoot 100 or more during deer season over at the Woods Boys' cabin).
We drifted easily through the quiet forest along the soft carpet of leaves, slipping and sliding down the steep slopes to the top of the bluff that rims Dug Hollow. It took me a little bit, but I finally found the narrow passage down through the bluff - the very same passage that little Haley Zega had been led through by her iminagery friend years ago. That took us into Magnolia Canyon, and the sheer walls that loomed high above us on either side.
I have always thought of Peter as more of a city boy, but he can certainly hold his own out here in the deep wilderness. His 6'6" stature normally towers above those around him, but not today, as we hiked beneath giant beeches and sweetgums and oaks.
We looked around on the ground and found dozens of seed pods from the Magnolia umbrella trees that normally fill the airspace in the canyon. As always, it was a magical place, a spot I have visited in times of great grief, joy, and loneness over the past half-dozen years.
It was an extra-special day today weatherwise - clear blue skies, almost warm temps (even through it was still below freezing), and the air was just, well, you know, it was the sort of air that just FEELS great as you breathe it in.
We worked our way along the base of the bluffline, passing a few ice formations, including a band of ice that you could see through that was probably six inches wide. Seemed like the ice was so delicate that breathing on it would break it up. We left it fully intact.
We passed several waterfalls that were flowing, but not all that much. One of them was on the south-facing side of the canyon, and so the water droplets were backlit by the sunshine and dancing all over the place.
We looked at an Indian grindstone that was tucked away back under one of the bluffs - a bit of Ozark history from many moons ago. The bluffdwellers used these stones to grind maze and other grains on. They would have several of the base stones stashed under bluffs they frequented (normally too heavy to carry around), but they did pack the actual stone that was used to grind the grain with because it would normally only weigh a few pounds. I've found many dozens of the base stones, but only one of the hand stones (I know both of these items have their specific names, but I don't know or can't spell it).
Lots of bright green moss and lichens and ferns along the way too. And one hillside was covered with both highbush and lowbush hukleberry bushes. The lowbush ones produce delightfully sweet wild blueberries in the early summer on this hillside, and I have spent many a lazy afternoon munching on them. The highbush ones produce much smaller berries at the end of the summer and into the fall. Today several of those high bushes still had berries on them (hard and not edible), and many bright red and orange leaves that sparkled like rubys in the backlit sunshine.
One thing I noticed a lot today were dozens of giant old trees that had fallen over the past season or two, some obviously crashing down with a great deal of force and noise, smashing on boulders below, sending branches and pieces from the trunks out into the nearby forest. I've heard many of these monsters crashing way off in the distance. It is always sad to see such destruction, but it is nothing more than life as usual in the forest, producing homes and food for wildlife and plants and all sorts of critters for many years to come. Plus it opens up the forest floor for many hundreds of other trees that will sprout and head up towards the sky.
Aspen has had a hurt foot all week, and limps all over the cabin. But once you get him out the door, he tears off and runs and jumps and springs like crazy until it is time to go back inside again. Ten minutes rest is all he needs before heading back out again on some adventure. Hurt foot, what hurt foot? And I must add that I continue to be simply amazed at Lucy - she flies like the wind from beginning to end of the hike, never still, almost never in sight - always out there in front and all around, sleek and swift and having the time of her life.
The afternoon was filled with work around the cabin and at the computer. Peter went on another hike. We filled the fireplace with wood and had a nice fire going when Pam got home. She had a really good day too, adding another five new trails to the guidebook, including a really nice trail that she just happened upon - not listed in any book or info pages. Yep, I think she has become a really good guidebook author.
Just as things were winding down for the day, Peter and I strapped on our boots and headed out into the night for one last hike of the day. The nearly-full moon (Monday) was high and we had no problems hiking in the moonlight. It was cool, but not cold at all, with no wind.
We stood up on the observation deck in Aspen's Meadow looking out across many ridgetops to the distant lights of Compton. Aspen was working the wall grass in the meadow below us that sloped away and down into the forest. His short tail was working overtime, in constant motion, as we he. All of a sudden he came to a sudden stop, and I do believe that my prized, pedigreed, and very expensive bird dog was on point out there in the moonlight. Son of a gun, my jaw dripped wide open when he then flushed a QUAIL!!! Really? Darn tootin'. I had seen a quail out past the Faddis cabin a couple of weeks ago, and Peter reported seeing a covey last weekend when he was here watching over the cabin. Let me tell ya I was one proud parent when he flushed that quail! Um, I mean owner.
It was one fine day for Aspen, and for all of us. I hope it was for you too.
12/7/03 update. Aspen woke us up this morning with one more critter in this teeth - a big, warm, fuzzy rabbit slipper! (made of cotton)
12/8/03 Cold and WINDY this morning at first light. We had another one of those really LOUD nights where the wind howled and sang and kept me awake all night. I got to listening to the wind, and realized it was producing a deal of low bass sounds that often rattled the cabin, but at the same time there were many waves of high-pitched music too. Probably could record some of this stuff and sell it as the latest CD from a pop group.
I had a fun assignment yesterday just before dark - to collect two huge pumpkins at the front entrance gate and smash them all over the ground in the orchard. I snatched up the pumpkins in the bucket of the tractor and headed over to the orchard. Just as I came into the open area of the orchard the nearly-full moon came into view, as it rose into a peach-and-blueberry-colored sky (what the heck, I was in the orchard!). A beautiful, serene and colorful scene if I ever saw one. The only camera I had was my snapshot one, and no tripod, so the photo is not too great, but I hope you get the idea. This was taken after the sun went down.
Oh yea, I also spotted several piles of large scat along the lane to the orchard. If it was summertime I would just call them bear scat and go on. But bears should be all tucked away inside a hillside now, especially with the cool weather we have had of late. Bears don't actually hibernate here in the Ozarks - they just go into a prolonged sleep, and will often emerge on warm days and go wandering around. This scat was bear-sized for sure, and filled with persimmon seeds. It could have simply been that of a very large coyote or wolf, but there was no hair in it at all, and most wild canine scat has lots of hair. Our friend Peter mentioned that he thought he had seen a bear out here over Thanksgiving, but he has been really concerned about meeting up with a bear, so I suspected he might have been seeing bears behind every tree. Perhaps he really did see one. That would sure explain the scat.
A strong wind is blowing out of the east today - that normally means some sort of weather is headed our way. Man I hope so because we really need some moisture, no matter what form it takes. A good long week of rain would be just the ticket to get the waterfalls up and running like they should be at this time of the year.
There was another newspaper article about Pam's new book in the paper last Friday (Flip Puttoff with the NW Arkansas Morning News), and we've been getting quite a few calls about it. Flip has been a great outdoor writer in these parts for a long while, and his efforts have been much appreciated. On the other side of the coin, there was also an article in the Ark. Demo-Zette last week about an obscure hiking trail within the city limits of Fayetteville. Of course, that "hidden" trail is in Pam's new book, and quite a few folks have already been hiking it this fall because of her book. A very nice trail that few folks knew about until her book came out.
We've got a long day today on the road down to the slide program in Benton and back. We'll have to fight construction along the way and rush-hour traffic leaving Little Rock so will have to leave here early. We should be home around midnight though. Amber's grandma is coming down from Missouri to take over for us, then will try to make it home tomorrow before a predicted winter storm hits. Looks like I will get to use that tractor again tomorrow to haul down a good pile of firewood for the week! I love working with wood on cold winter days.
Oh yea, I forgot to mention it the other day, but we now have all the holiday decorations up at the cabin, including our very tall Christmas tree that is decorated with the many wonderful ornaments that we have collected from Journal readers over the years. One of my favorites has always been the little bear that Jeannette in Canada made for Aspen out of the hair of her own dog. We have to place it up in the middle of the tree because Aspen really likes it too!
Speaking of Aspen, he has come up with a bum back leg, and is having a great deal of difficulty getting around, especially up and down the stairs here. I think he pulled a muscle while chasing that squirrel!
Time for me to go load up the truck and head down to Benton - I look forward to seeing a lot of you Journal readers there!
I cannot let this day pass without noting the passing of one of the greatest song writers and musicians of all time. It has been 23 years since John Lennon was gunned down, the day the music really died for me. I remember the moment like it was yesterday. I was with a group of about 50 hikers that were hiking across the United States, and we were in Arkansas, camped in the Richland Creek valley just upstream from the wilderness area. It was one of the hiker's birthday, so I made arrangements to take him and several other hikers into Fayetteville for dinner at his favorite restaurant - Taco Bell. After pigging out we went to my mom's house for a quick visit. It had been nearly a year since my dad passed away. We all were sitting in front of the TV enjoying the warmth of her house when the announcement came across the tube of John's death. (In a bit of irony that I just now, this morning, realized, I was sitting in the exact same spot where I had sat and watched the Beatles' first appearance on the Ed Sullivan show on our old black and white TV.) We all were stunned to hear of John's death, I mean really stunned to the bone. Later on we went over to my house and just laid on the floor all night, listening to tributes on the radio. No band has ever impacted the world like the Beatles, and while John was not my favorite Beatle (since I am left-handed, it had to be Paul!), he contributed as much to our current culture as anyone who has ever lived. His music, and the music he created with the Fab Four, will live on forever. Thanks, John, for all that you gave to the world.
"I wish you a very, merry Christmas, and a happy New Year. Let's hope it's a good one, without any tears."
12/10/03 SNOW TODAY! Really windy all night, and it is a wonder that our landscape is white this morning. With top speeds above 30mph, you would think the dry power snow would have never been able to land, but it did, and we have about a half inch of white on the ground, with more coming down. I was a bit surprised that it stuck at all, even on the roads, considering the fact that the earth is still above freezing here. Normally a light snow like this will melt away as it lands. I guess those winds helped cool things down in a hurry. Speaking of cool, the actual temp was 25 at daylight, and wind chills were hovering just above 0 - a great day for a down coat!
We tried to get Amber to school this morning - her normal "feeder" bus did not run, so one of the parents on our hill picked everyone up and took them down to Boxley to catch the big bus - but that bus never arrived. So Amber was delivered back home, and is sitting next to me working away on her computer. We have a big fire going so the cabin is toasty. Pam is working away, and I've been making prints for the past three hours, but will have to wrap up my computer work for the day as I have to head into town for an OHTA board meeting later today, as well as other chores. I bet the bright moonlight will be something to see tonight as I will be coming home late - the sky is supposed to clear by then.
We had a great trip to Benton the other night for our last program of the year. The Saline County Library there is very nice. I didn't expect such a good facility, or the big crowd that we had. Even before the show began, the place was packed, and they eventually had to stop folks from coming in - just not enough room. Heck, even after I got inside the door of the auditorium, they filled in the open space behind me with chairs. And goodness there were so many folks there with either ties to my early years of life, or to the Journal. They included our frequent chopper pilot that buzzes the cabin, Chelsea's dad, the mom and sister of my closest high school buddy (I was always very shy in school, and didn't have too many friends), a neighbor that I grew up with in Fayetteville, and scores of Journal readers, many who I have corresponded with - it was GREAT to get to meet and visit with you all!
And I was really tickled when a gentleman handed me a gift of huge new book about John Lennon - THANKS to Steve and the entire Swaby family - I have already been through it twice!
I always love doing these programs, and hope to be able to get to meet many more Journal readers as the years go on. Already have several programs booked for next November around the state, and will be adding many more as the year goes on.
We had rain most of the day yesterday, but it remained warm. Our friendly bald eagle kept flying by, in close, then he would ride the wind currents in a circular motion, going up and up and up, until he would disappear into the fog and mist. Just as we would get settled back into work, he would appear outside the window again, and we would come running to see. Our Amish friends stopped by for a visit, and while we were all standing outside on the deck, the eagle appeared - in really close this time - then drifted straight up in the air, without going in circles, or flapping his wings a single time. He put on quite a show for our guests!
Last night, after Amber got home from school, and as the daylight was fading away into darkness, I had a Cloudland moment. Not being able to sleep much when the wind blows like it has been these past several days, and running a fast pace for several weeks, I was exhausted, both mentally and physically. The girls were tucked away in Amber's room watching a movie. I walked away from the computer and collapsed onto one of the couches, going to sleep almost immediately. When I woke up, the cabin was completely dark, except for the lights of the Christmas tree that towered high above me. Laughter from Amber's room drifted into the main cabin. I could smell Aspen next to me - I love the smell of dog feet. A feeling of calmness and satisfaction swept over me, and I felt at home with my life, REALLY at home. No doubt getting to meet so many wonderful people on our travels this past fall contributed to that feeling. It is such a treat to be a part of all your lives, and for that I cannot thank you enough. I hope that as we enter this holiday season that your life is filled with joy, and you too will be able to lay back in your living room and feel that you have arrived in that special place in life that is reserved just for you.
9:30am now and the snow has stopped, but the wind is still howling!
12/12/03 Seems like it took forever for the sun to show up this morning. While I was sitting at the computer the eastern sky started out completely black, then gradually, ever so slowly, color began to appear. First, just down low along the horizon, then eventually spreading farther and farther up into the sky, washing over several clouds up there and turning them pink, then orange, then blood red. The sky went from black to pink to blue, each shade revealing more detail in the silhouetted trees next to the cabin. From my position at the computer there is a reflection of our lit Christmas tree in the window that I have been looking out of, the colors of the lights really standing out at first, then getting lost in the sunrise, finally disappearing altogether. And just now, after being at the computer for a couple of hours, sunshine has appeared, filling the office with way too much brightness, so I had to shut all of the blinds.
Amber is one tough cookie. She had three teeth pulled yesterday, and last night when she got home she was dancing around all over the cabin, trying her best to make Christmas carol sounds, though her mouth was full of bloody gauze, and I know everything up there was still numb from the medication. This morning she jumped right up out of bed at 5:30 and was ready to go to school! We were going to hold her out today, but what the heck, we just can't keep this kid down.
We had lots of wonderful sunshine all day yesterday, and the temps got rather warm, considering it was 19 degrees at first light. Most places where the sun hit the day before were void of snow and was returned to the brown of dead leaves in a hurry, but any place where the sun did not hit remained snow-covered throughout most of the day and bright white. Right now, as the sun is reaching down into the canyons below us, I can look across to Beagle Point and see quite a bit of snow there - north-facing slopes don't get sunshine in the winter, so the white stuff hangs around a lot longer.
Yesterday afternoon, after working at the computer most of the day, I "broke out" and went for a hike, with dogs and cats surrounding me. We were not too far away from the cabin when Aspen did a 180 and came running back towards me. We were hiking along the top edge of a small, broken down bluffline. Aspen literally jumped over the edge of part of the bluff and disappeared. There was a moment of silence, then all heck broke loose. Apparently he had come face-to-face with a very large fox under there - I don't know if it was a fox den, or if the fox had simply taken refuge under there as we approached. At any rate, I heard a great deal of commotion, then saw the fox tear out from under the small bluff and head down the steep hillside, leaves and dirt flying, and Aspen in close pursuit. Lucy seemed to come out of nowhere - she is like the wind, and can appear and disappear in an instant - and joined Aspen. No way these dogs would ever catch the fox, and I'm sure all three of them knew it. From my vantage point I could see them flying at full speed down the hill, across the wide bench below, and then finally over the edge and down to the next bench. This was a huge fox, nearly as large as Aspen, a beautiful grey fox, with lots of red fur. The dogs were clearly out of their league, but I think all had a good time of it, and soon the dogs came screaming back up the hill towards me.
In the meantime, I went down under the bluff to see where the fox had come from, and was joined there by the two cats. They had been enjoying the warm sunshine during the hike, but were clearly perturbed at the chilly wind that easily laid their fur back and cut into their skin. They jumped right on over the bluff and began to investigate where the fox had been. They knew something had been there, although I had not really known cats to be scent hunters. It was funny to see them climb way back under the bluff and disappear into the dark. Even more funny when the dogs returned to see the interaction of the dogs and cats, all with the same goal in mind - what the heck was that?
Later on I shot some photos of the deciduous holly tree, and its bright red berries against the blue sky. This seems to be a really good year for berry trees, and all of these trees that I know of on the mountain are covered with them. I'm not sure why these berries don't get eaten by the early flocks of small birds that pass through - like the blackgum berries did a week or two ago. They must be like fine wine, and the birds will not eat them until their time has come.
Our closest neighbor out here is Billy McNamara, the famous watercolor painter. Even after closely inspecting his work for many years now - including his originals - I have no idea how he does what he does - his style and the amount of work he puts into his craft is just amazing. And he is a super-nice guy to boot. He shuns public attention and we rarely see him. He called me yesterday and came by for a visit. You can easily gather a year's worth of great information from Billy in ten minutes talking with him! Our conversation leaned towards the native people of the area, and we looked at maps and talked about several sites nearby where he had found some interesting things that I might be interested in looking at. I made a mental note: GET OUT OF THE CABIN AND GO INVESTIGATE FIRST CHANCE YOU GET! It was good to see him, and he left with a box full of books for Christmas presents.
The sun is getting higher now this morning, and soon others will be at work and I can plan my day. I'm still in the middle of catching up on numerous phone calls and e-mails that need answering. By the way, just FYI, these days I respond much quicker to an e-mail than to a phone message. I am also getting to the point where I like to have correspondence both directions in writing, just so I have a record of what was and was not said. Nice to be able to go back and dig that stuff up. All of this technology stuff is wonderful!
Time to post this and get to work. I know many folks have been hearing the gloom and doom of the weather forecast for this weekend and are changing plans - the University of Arkansas has already talked of rescheduling final exams set for tomorrow - good grief people, it is only an inch or two of snow!!! I hope we get a foot or two, or at least six inches. "Aren't you worried about getting snowed in?" people have been asking us. #1, I LOVE getting snowed in here, and would relish the thought; #2, heck NO we won't be IN - if we actually do get much out of this storm system I will be out the door in an instant with camera gear in hand, and/or skis - and the ladies will probably beat me out the door since they love to play in the snow. So BRING IT ON!
12/13/03 Just before I turned in for the day last night, I stepped outside and wandered around a little bit. It was dark, and getting cool, and the wind was howling. I couldn't really tell at first if it was real, but when I stopped and pointed my face skyward and felt really hard, I could sense there were tiny snowflakes landing on my warm skin. They melted right away - wet snow, although the flakes were very small. With the wind blowing so hard, no telling if any of it would ever land on the ground. I knew the big front was blowing up from the southwest, but the wind out here was from dead east - a good sign, since that normally brings the "good" weather (rain, snow, hail, wind, lightning!).
When I got up just before daylight I could see we had snow - nothing but white outside. Looked like a couple of inches to me. At about the same time daylight began to creep into the wilderness, so did a thick bank of fog. For just a few moments, that fog bank gathered down low in the canyons, looking like a sea of clouds, surrounded by a sea of snow - it was mostly white out there. I don't recall seeing these clouds when there was snow on the ground before. But then, I am at altitude, and no telling how much passes right on through.
I snuck into Amber's room and whispered - "are you awake?" Of course she was - she had been looking out the window at the snow for an hour! "Looks like there won't be any school today Amber - in fact, I guarantee it!" Being Saturday, it was a sure bet. I only bank on sure bets.
By the time I had fired up a blaze in the fireplace, Amber was snuggled into the big leather chair right in front of it. It was still kind of dark outside and in, with just the flames for light.
Before long Amber was all dressed and ready for a snowball fight (that is after a feast of her mom's french toast). I was happy to partake. It was no contest - she clobbered me! Indeed it was wet snow, very wet. The kind you can reach out and grab in passing and come up with a one-handed snowball ready to launch. Splat. Even the warmest gloves or mittens can be used - no problem getting this snow to form. Splat. Splat. And the temp was warm too - right at 32 degrees. The air still had just a little bit of tiny snow in it, but you could just feel the real stuff was over. Three or four inches is what we had here around the cabin. Splat. Splat. Splat!
Later on I wandered on out with camera and tripod in hand. The wind had been absolutely still until I set up to take a photo of some deciduous holly berries up near the Faddis cabin. I stood there and waited and waited and waited. But the wind did not let up. I finally gave up and hiked on over to the other side of the ridge to another holly tree that I knew of. The wind was still blowing, but there were a few moments of stillness. Those are the moments you wait for as a photographer. Hurry and set all of your gear up and frame the shot, then wait, patiently, for the wind to stop, to be absolutely still - that is the only way to get no blur in the photo at all, especially when shooting close-up subjects like these berries.
I spent more than 30 minutes standing in one spot waiting for the wind to stop. Those were not wasted moments, but rather quality time that I got to spend alone with my thoughts, and with the great beauty of the wilderness all dressed up in its winter coat.
Once I got back to the cabin it was time for more fun in the snow, and besides a few more snowballs, Amber and I rolled up three giant snowmen and lined them up in front of the fort. This was the best snowman snow I had seen in a very long time! The snowmen that we created turned out to be Amish, and did not want their photos taken, so you will just have to imagine them.
All afternoon there were clouds forming in the canyons below, and winds chased them around, creating an ever-changing scene. My camera remained on the tripod and ready to go outside for another shot until it was nearly dark. I never tire of these scenes off the back deck, no matter if it is winter, spring, summer, or fall.
It is getting into the late evening hours now. My ladies are curled up and reading good books. The dogs are snoozing in front of the fire. The cabin is all lit up. There is an overall warm feeling here, and it is great to be home on a frosty winter night.
12/15/03 It is 7:28am and the sun just now popped up over the eastern horizon - a bright yellow ball that is filling the canyons below with sunshine. I've been up for a couple of hours answering e-mails and doing some homework on the net. The wind is blowing, no HOWLING outside, and with the actual temp at 36, the wind chill is showing up on the weather station between 10 and 14 degrees.
We spent a good bit of yesterday in Santa's workshop here at the cabin. The girls were creating things and I was making prints and homemade booze, all to go into our special bag to give out to family. Amber and I had one last snowball fight as the snow was melting rapidly, at least in the areas where the sun hit.
Later in the afternoon Pam and I went for a hike around the mountain. Most of the forest was bare of snow, and the leaves were soft and didn't make a sound as we passed. The bright-red dogwood berries we had grown used to seeing along the route are now turning black. I wonder why. The big persimmon tree is completely bare already - not a single piece of fruit left. Last year this very same tree was covered with fruit all winter long. Hum, I wonder if the little bear that is running around climbed up there and ate them all this year?
On the far side of the ridge there was still a lot of snow, and we got to see many critter tracks. It is always fun to try to imagine what little critter made the tracks, and what they were doing when they made them - was it a mouse, squirrel, vole, and what type of bird, and where were they going? We found one bear track in the mud over at the orchard. AND, we discovered several places where the elusive pogo-stick bug had been. There is a photo of his tracks below. I've never actually seen this bug, but do see his tracks all over the snowy landscape, especially when the snow begins to melt.
This morning I can see a lot of snow left in the wilderness - only on the north-facing slopes though. All the rest of the scene is brown and gray.
BY THE WAY, I know a lot of you Journal readers are also digital photographers, so I will let you in on this. I am selling my nearly-new Canon 10D camera, with a spare battery and Really Right Stuff L bracket. Everything is in near-new condition, with all manuals, boxes, and accessories that came with it. (It is a sweet camera, but I just upgraded to a 1Ds) The price for the lot is lower than the new price for just the body itself. If you are interested, drop me an e-mail (tim@timernst.com). We take plastic.
12/19/03 The girls were up and off before sunrise this morning, and I was left to fend for myself. After spending the morning at the computer, I tossed a few things into my fanny pack and headed out the door, without the dogs - Aspen has had a bum foot for the past couple of weeks, so I wanted him to stay home and rest.
It was a brilliant fall day (chilly for fall, but winter doesn't officially begin until Monday), bright blue skies, with temps in the 30's and a bit of wind. I started down the trail and then decided to bushwhack down the steep hillside - this time of the year it is probably safer that way because there are so many loose rocks in the trail that are covered up by the thick layer of leaves. Out in the forest in general, your boots sink down into that layer of leaves, and into the soft earth and take hold really well - with your boots taking hold that well it is possible to march right on down even the steepest of slopes.
Of course, I also slipped and fell on my rump a number of times, but that was part of the fun!
The sunshine was really lighting up the forest of beech trees that I passed through down near the bottom of the hill - they shown like thousands of jewels up in the trees, and made that rustle noise that I love to hear in winter. Looked like all of the little beeches had their leaves, but most of the leaves were gone from the big beeches. I wonder if that means anything?
Just as I reached the near bank of Whitaker Creek a stalk of dried seeds caught my eye. These were from a Rattlesnake orchid plant (thanks Don Kurz) - I had seen their leaves lots of times, but don't recall seeing the seedpod before. I sat down in a soft pile of leaves and got out the camera. Seems like it had been forever since I had taken off into the woods on a ramble with no particular destination in mind. It felt great to be sitting there next to the steam, not a care in the world. But, of course, I WAS working after all - I was trying to get the stalk of seeds isolated in front of a dark shadow so that the seeds would really stand out in the photo. There not being any dark shadows handy, I produced one with my hat. See, you guys thought that I wear that thing just to cover up my shiny head, but it is really just another photographic tool!
Rattlesnake orchid seedpods
And the plant belowOK, mission accomplished. As I turned around to get up and saw another neat thing to take a picture of. There was this large root - a root so large that it had actually grown bark - that was arched up a couple of feet off of the forest floor, and about six or eight feet long. The split was wide enough that it had collected dirt, and there were plants growing in it. Snap. Snap. Didn't need a dark shadow for this one, although I think there is a dark boulder that was sitting in the creek in the background.
Looking around I realized that I had not been to - or at least never really took note of - this particular little spot where I was sitting before. How delightful a spot it was too. Seems like there was neat stuff in all directions, including this one spot where five trees of different species all grew out of the same little clump of soil - they could have easily been five trunks of the same tree. And the creek was just a few feet away, making pleasant music as it tumbled over smooth boulders and into one little pool after another (water striders busy at each pool, as always). Moss-covered rocks. Towering trees above. A thick, soft bed of leaves and soil underneath. And that warm sunshine! I could have easily laid back and napped for hours. Or sat there and took pictures until all my memory was gone. This little spot was only 20 feet square, but easily could take up days of my time. I wonder how many other magical little places like this one there are out there - hundreds? Thousands? I'll continue my quest to find as many of them as I can.
Instead of spending the rest of my afternoon there, I hopped across the creek and headed up the other side of the mountain. Or actually it was Beagle Point I was making my way up. Soon I found an old pioneer road and began the tedious process of climbing up and out of the creek valley, up towards the tall sandstone bluff that runs throughout the wilderness area. I had not remembered how many giant beech trees there were on this hillside - dozens and dozens of them along the way. Many, or should I say most, of them had been carved in by folks more than 60 years ago. I remember finding one inscription on a big beech tree further up Whitaker Creek from the first day of spring, 1925.
There had been a flock of wild turkeys working this area, and the ground was really town up for a good long ways. They scratch up the leaves looking for bugs and worms and anything edible under the cover of the leaves. They don't actually tear up the soil like wild hogs do, but rather just move the leaves around. Looked like a really big flock of turkeys.
The old road was almost nonexistent, but if I looked close enough, searched around for tell-tale signs of a road, and followed what I thought would be the logical route, I made it along just fine. Problem was that there were hundreds of trees down across the old road trace. I often left it and bushwhacked in the open forest instead. And I mean "open" only as a means of comparison - this hillside was about as thick as you could get with vegetation! Many of the areas I hiked through would be nearly impassable in the summertime.
Up and up and up I went. Oh yea, I remember this place. And that one. Hum, don't recall that big boulder at all. I guess it tumbled down from the big bluff above. Oh yea, there's the way.
It was S-L-O-W going, but eventually I made it up to the base of the bluff. This is one of the more interesting places in the wilderness where man and mountain met. The mountain gave way and allowed man to proceed. The old road trace is an engineering marvel at the point where it comes to the base of the bluff. There is a GIANT house-sized boulder right there, the road comes in between that house and the base of the bluff, then the roadbed cuts a switchback and heads right on up a low spot in the bluff. The early settlers spent no telling how much time hauling and piling up rocks on the lower side to create somewhat of a platform for the road to go along. Up and over the top it goes, up to flatter and more forgiving land.
I sat myself down and leaned up against that giant Leaning Rock. There was a dripping waterfall of sorts right there just out of arms length, and the big bluff going off in both directions. It had been somewhat of a tough climb up to this point, and my bones were weary. I pulled out a small bottle of water and a protein bar, and within a couple of minutes had consumed them both. Oops, that's all I had. Oh well, I would manage.
I leaned back against that rock and once again the warm afternoon sun nearly took its toll. I had spent many an afternoon napping at this very spot. No doubt many other folks from days gone by had done the same thing. But nope, not for me today, I had new places to explore, and daylight was burning!
I got up began to make my way along the base of the bluff - all of this for a while would be new country for me. Pretty standard sandstone bluffline, averaging 50-100 feet tall. Some of it was completely vertical, while other areas had some undercut with breakdown underneath.
The bluff curved back to the right, and headed away from the main Buffalo River valley that it had been following along. The walking was mostly level, although with all that breakdown and scores of downed trees, the going was also slow. But that just gave me more time to pause and look up and the beautiful bluffline.
And then I came to what looked like a bluff shelter - a shelter that Billy McNamara had told me about. The bluff was undercut pretty wide under there, but the ceiling was really low. From the looks of things this shelter had been used by all sorts of men-like critters, from the Indians to the pioneers to artifact thieves to recent deer hunters. There were several arrowhead parts carefully laid out on a rock, many places where the robbers had been digging, and some old pots and pans and camouflage clothing. Three or four fire rings too, including one that may have been as recent as this month. Not a perfect bluff shelter by any means - especially since it did not face south - but I guess there wasn't all that much to choose from in this area.
The bluffline continued to curve around a bit at the far end of the bluff shelter, and then it made a dramatic curve back to the left - a WATERFALL! I had seen this spot on the map many times, and looked up this direction several times from the river bottom far below - always wondering if there was a waterfall there. From below, the creek that comes off of the hillside does not appear to have anything interesting up above. Hum, how wrong I have been! The waterfall was not running all that much today - few falls in the Ozarks are running well right now (we REALLY need about a foot of rain!). But it was obviously a really nice falls - perhaps 25-30 feet tall, with a smaller fall below that mingles under a giant boulder than continues on down a series of smaller waterfalls and cascades. I will return to this spot when we have plenty of water for sure!
As I made my way around the other side and away from the falls and bluff shelter, I discovered why the shelter and the piles of bones that Billy had told me about were there. The bluffline completely disappeared! I mean no bluff at all, only a wide area of dirt and trees - STEEP dirt and trees for sure, but no bluffline. No doubt animals could and have been using this area as a means to get from the top to the bottom and back for eons. Man too. Although I could not find a visible trail of any sort. But then this was not just one narrow area without bluff - it was hundreds of feet wide! I don't know of another area like it in the lower or middle wilderness area (perhaps there are some farther upstream where the bluffline breaks down, but not down this far). I was really surprised to see this.
Oh yea, I decided to name that falls Split Tooth Falls because Billy told me that a lot of the teeth and bones he had found were split in odd ways. Hum.
I continue along the contour of the bluff and soon the bluff began to rise up once again. Then I entered an area that was almost void of any underbrush. The ground was covered with large umbrella magnolia leaves, and these were about the only trees growing in this area. And not just single trees either, but groups of trees, three or four or five. Many with bent and curving trunks. It was all quite odd, yet wonderful.
There was another little drainage shown on the map, and I wanted to see if the bluff - which by now was back to normal - would create another waterfall. Once again the bluffline curved back into the hillside and I began to hear water. But this time there was no waterfall, but a large drip coming off of a solid sheet of bluff. The creek below wasn't much either, and probably only produces anything nice during flooded times. No matter - it was a neat spot anyway.
Ever since I left the old roadbed the bluff and forest along the base had been in shade - basically all facing east, and the sun was over in the west. I could see the sunlit ridges on the other side of the river, and could tell that the quality of light hitting them was beginning to change - that meant the sun was headed down. At some point in my journey along the bluff I decided it was time to leave and head back towards the cabin. I did not want to return the same way that I came, so instead just bailed off the bluffline and headed straight down the hillside.
After a little bit I realized I was actually following a deer trail, even though I was going DOWN. And a fresh trail at that - I could smell earth, and the ground had been disturbed. That would have been natural if I had spooked a deer ahead of me up near the bluff, and he ran on down the trail to get away. But when I stopped and looked a little closer, the deer tracks were heading UP the hillside! Good grief, this trail was nearly straight up the hill - don't those deer know any better? I'm sure they prance and dance all the way up without even breathing hard.
As I continued down the mountain I slipped and fell numerous times, but the ground was soft and so was my behind so I pressed on without whimper. This was one of those descents where you have to go tree-to-tree because it is so steep. At one point I grabbed a tree and it grabbed me back - ouch! Don't know what this tree was, but the bark was strange, and while it actually was not sharply-pointed bark or spikes, the bark was small and raised and hard, and hurt when I grabbed it. I did not realize it at the time, but this tree began a series of tree trunk photos - I hope you don't mind.
Soon the really steep stuff gave way to nearly flat terrain, and more beech trees, and more umbrella magnolia trees, and, well, just FLAT ground! I almost immediately spotted an Adam & Eve orchid leaf. They are broad with green and white stripes (well, I guess just white stripes against a green leaf), and the leaf normally lays flat against the ground. They are just now beginning to appear, and will continue to show themselves throughout the winter and springtime. I don't think I have ever seen the flower of this plant and the leaf at the same time - the flower is towards the end of the summer, and by then the leaves have dried up and blown away I guess.
Then I spotted another Adam & Eve orchid. And another. And another. And another. Good grief, what was going on here? You can often spot one or two of them during a winter hike, but not so many in one small area. I started to count - you know I have a thing about numbers. Ten. Fifteen. TWENTY! Twenty-three orchids in this one small area - good grief! I've probably not seen that many in the past several years combined. (With so many Adam & Eves around could this be the Garden of Eden? Ha, ha.) (I wound up seeing more than 100 of them during the day.)
The landscape began to slope down a little bit and away from the broad bench where the orchids were, but still it was very gentle, with lots of interesting things to see. Goodness, even in the dead of winter (well, almost winter), I find so many things that will stop me in my tracks and bring me to my hands and knees to look at. Goodness, I could easily have spent the entire day in just about any one spot during my hike. Funny, but I am known as a very fast hiker - and I know many of you think that I never seen a THING while I hike - but I DO notice so many things as I pass. I guess I just keep going most of time to you'll keep thinking I'm a really fast hiker...
Besides thinking this alternate route home would be quicker and easier, I had another motive in mind - reflections. I wanted to spend some time walking along the river to see if I could find any good reflections in the still pools of the Buffalo River. The sun had already left the river area, but the opposite hillside was lit up and beginning to actually glow as the day grew long. Ozarkglow can be pretty nice when reflected in a still, quiet pool.
One problem that I had early one was the fact that the vegetation along the bank of the river in this area was SO THICK that I could hardly make my way to the bank! But I fought my way through and finally made it to the river. I found a spot where the waters were still, and took a few snaps, but not really what I was looking for. I pressed on, although I was forced back out into the forest and away from the river because the thorn bushes were just to thick and too numerous. I kept one eye glued to the ever-changing colors on the opposite hillside, and watched for a chance to return to the river.
Then I came across several trees that I just had to take photos of, and more Adam & Eve orchids - three of them all in one spot, and with their dried seed heads still intact to boot! I could only get two of the seedpods in the photo at once. The actual seeds had long since been blown away and scattered by the winds, so the little pods were empty.
It was beginning to look like I was not going to get my reflection photo, but I was making plans to return to this area with my big camera and spend an afternoon "working" the riverbank in search of the right light.
And then up ahead - through the thick forest - I could see the river on fire, twisting and turning just like a lava flow. THAT'S what I was looking for! I headed back to the river and hurried my pace, although with each step I took the scene out there in front got a little bit duller. You see these reflections look best from higher up, and I had been walking along a bench up above the river. As I got closer to the river, I also got lower, eventually down to river level. No matter, by the time I reached the bank there was still plenty of color.
Two problems came up. First, the brush along the bank was so THICK that I had trouble finding a spot where I could get a clear shot of the river. Gosh darn if I could just get out there another foot in the air! It was then I realized that what I was standing on was not the ground, but rather a pile of debris that the river had washed up on the bank - and it had been undercut by the receding river - I was actually standing on a thin layer of roots and sticks and leaves, and beneath me was nothing but air, and the river! I carefully reached out as far as I could and took a few photos. Whew, I did not fall through!
Still, it was not the photo that I had hoped for. The SCENE was pretty nice through - the river curved a little bit left and then right, then meandered off into the distance. The hillside all around was dark, but there was a hillside in the far background that was lit up and getting more orange by the minute. I shot a few scenes with and without the glowing hillside, then zoomed in on just the river, and finally on this one particular swirl of water that contained the brightest colors I could find. Snap. Snap.
Oh yea, the other problem? The wind was blowing, so many of the gorgeous reflections went away, but that was OK. I realized that this exact scene would repeat itself many times this winter, and I would be back for another one or two or three, and next time with my big camera.
As I struggled to find a new vantage point, and then another one, I realized that many of the bushes I had been going through had very large and sharp thorns on them - my hands were ripped and bloodied, but you know what, I really didn't care - the light was magical, and I was there, with camera in hand. Something deep down inside me that was placed there long ago gets into my bloodstream when magical light like this presents itself. Thank goodness my dear bride understands this - or at least tolerates it!
No doubt the images on this screen don't even come close to what the real scene looked like, or even to near the quality of reproduction the original images have. You see, in order to publish an image on the web like these when you begin with a high-quality original you really have to trash a lot of the information in the digital file - I won't get into it, but suffice it for me to apologize for the poor quality of them - this scene on the river was quite spectacular.
The last rays of sunshine were just leaving the tops of the ridges as I began my climb up the big hill back to the cabin. I had been out wandering all afternoon without water, and was parched and getting weary. Fat and out of shape too. But I'm going to work on that this winter. Up and up and up I went, and while slow, I did make it all the way to the top only stopping once to blow. The ladies were still gone when I arrived at the cabin, but Aspen and Lucy gave me a warm welcome - of course, they were also a bit pissy that I did not take them with me!
The temp is dropping rapidly outside tonight - clear skies and windy. But it is warm and toasty inside. I plan to have many more great days in the woods like today, and I hope you will come along for the ride.
And I cannot end this post today without noting the passing 24 years ago tonight of the greatest man I have ever known - my dad. He will forever be my hero, a standard to reach for in everything that I do in life. Thanks, pop, for all that you gave to us, and for allowing me to be who I am. What more could I have ever asked for.........
12/21/03 Normally today is the shortest day of the year, but that will actually be tomorrow - thank goodness we got an extra minute or two today!
I had a Cloudland moment first thing this morning. After a very disturbing dream in the night, I got up and tip-toed down into the main level of the cabin, brewed a cup of Earl Gray tea, and curled up in the big leather chair in front of the roaring fire. We had guests downstairs, so I did not want to wake them up by firing up the computer, which is located directly above the guest bedroom. It has been quite a while since I have taken the time off to just sit there and do nothing, nothing but read, which is what I did this morning, for several hours until the rest of the cabin came to life. It was just me and the Christmas tree lights, and the glow of the fire, with Aspen at my feet. Home sweet home. And then there was more light, as the eastern horizon began to glow, and the clouds hovering above it took on shades or reds and oranges and pinks against a blue sky. I got up from my warm nest long enough to haul the camera outside and shot a few photos. Being in my underwear, with the temp around freezing, a brisk breeze cut right into me, but I didn't mind a bit - it was a very nice pre-dawn light show, and besides, there was that warm dog and blazing fire just inside!
Later in the morning Roy and Norma and Pam and I and the two dogs headed out for a hike, down to the Buffalo, and upstream. We wandered here and there, bushwhacking most of the way, sometimes following the old pioneer road that runs from Boxley upstream to Dixon Ford and beyond. When it looked like there was a interesting part of the river nearby, we veered off our path and took a look. It was a lovely, laid back wander through the woods - a true ramble with no particular destination nor route to follow.
Since it is getting late tonight while I am writing this - and I only had about two or three hours of sleep last night - I'm going to simply post some of the photos with some expanded captions instead of rambling on at the keyboard for hours.
All in all it was a SPLENDID day and hike. And I must say - this was the first real long hike that Pam has taken since hurting her back a month ago, and she held up really well. She has been doing special exercises and walking a lot (on a treadmill, and around the loop trail). I was pretty concerned about her at first, but she was a real trooper and kept up the pace both coming and going. And when we all hit the big hill on the way back, she really did a great job, and made it up to the cabin without killing over - a feat for any of us!
12/24/03 I was up and out the door early this morning. I have gotten back into being a photo animal, in case you have not noticed. Part of that is because I just spent a ton of money on a new camera, one that can produce as fine of images as any camera I have ever used. It is large, heavy, and complicated, but I think it will be a good investment as time goes on. One indication of its durability is the fact that ever single outside screw is protected by an O ring to keep dust and moisture out of the inside of the camera - there are more than 60 O rings protecting this camera! Come on rain!
Anyway, I headed on down the hill for Boxley Valley and points beyond. The temp was 22 degrees, winds calm, and not a cloud in the sky. It would still be an hour before the sun would show up, but I like to get an early start, and often this magical hour before dawn is when you find the very best light.
I stopped at several locations in Boxley Valley but did not find anything to shoot. I did notice that the frost was rather heavy in the valley as opposed to back up at the cabin. Frost is always a welcome sign when in search of photos.
Before too long I found myself at Steele Creek, heading out across the wide field at the base of the towering bluffs there, crunching as I went along. Something about this little valley draws me in - certainly the giant painted limestone bluffs are a big part of it - but there is more, always more. Seldom have I come away from here without a good photo or two. I was reading something late last night about great landscape photos - so many folks think that you can simply walk out and shoot one. The article was talking about how many times it takes to visit a specific area before you can get a really good photo. Certainly there are other areas where all the circumstances all come together and you get an instant masterpiece, but those are rare, very rare. My plan of attack is normally to put myself in the most promising locations at the right times for good things to happen, and the rest is up to fate.
That 22 degrees bit into me deep, but I was prepared, and did OK, especially the more I hiked. I walked along the base of the big bluff right next to the river, looking, watching, hoping to find something to shoot. With no clouds above to get all lit up by the rising sun, I did not find too much, but I did locate a couple of spots where I wanted to shoot as soon as the sun began to light up the opposite hillside. Reflections are one of the big things here at Roark Bluff.
Before too long the upper ridgetop began to glow yellow and orange, then the light slowly made its way down towards the top of the big bluffline. The best spot for my shot was going to be from out in the WATER, but I was not really looking forward to wading into the chilly water right away, so I put that off for a little bit. I did get one shot while standing at the edge of the river - well, actually I was a couple feet out from the edge, balancing myself on a couple of well-placed rocks.
Something about the moment when sunshine first hits stuff - it is pure magic. Photos can seldom record the event with any amount of reality. Often you just have to stand there and soak it all up. But, of course, it is my job to ignore all of this and get to WORK! And so I did.
Within another minute I had stepped out into the water to frame the next shot. At first I could not feel anything - I guess that the water was so much warmer than the air that it was not going to be a problem. Oh yea, I was WRONG! A few seconds later the water seeped into my boots and YIKES it was COLD! Come on Ernst, forget the water and just take the picture. What a wimp. Click, whirrr. Click, whirrr.
I spent about ten minutes in that spot taking pictures, changes lenses and angles, and waiting for the ripples from my moving around to disappear so I could get a better reflection. This is often a game of hurry-up-and-wait, as is much of life. I'm good at it, so no bother. Although while standing there trying to be absolutely still it seemed that the water got colder and colder. What a wimp. Click, whirrr. Click, whirrr.
Then I got the hair brain idea that I needed to cross the river to get a shot from the other side. No problem, I'll just wade on over there and get the shots. Do it all the time.
To save time I simply balanced my big tripod with the camera on it over my shoulder and went on across. It wasn't until I was right out in the middle of the river - with the rushing water up to my knees - that I realized that the boots I was wearing had very little soles left - mostly worn down to smooth. Add to that the fact that the stones on the river bottom were slick - I was slipping and sliding all over the place, straining to keep my balance and keep from falling in. Since my truck was only 1/4 mile away, getting wet would not be a huge problem for me. But I happen to remember that my new $10,000 camera system had NOT been added to my insurance policy yet! Of course, it has all of those O rings, and is supposed to survive a dip in the local pool, but I really did not want to test it.
I made it across OK, and wound up spending another 30 minutes in and out of the water working several different scenes. With this new camera, everything that I shoot can potentially be used in a book or calendar or whatever. With my little snapshot digital camera I know the only place the images will end up is in the Journal, and at low resolution, so I often don't take the time to always shoot those to perfection. With this new camera I was back to my old way of doing things - making sure I was capturing the absolute best quality image possible. And even though the light and color was not really all that spectacular this morning, there were some good scenes, and it really felt great to be out shooting "for real" once again!
By the time it was time for me to go back across the river, my lower legs were numb and my feet both felt like blocks of ice. It was a hairy trip back across the river - good thing is wasn't too deep or swift. I think I got a few good shots this morning, and hope you enjoy them:
On the way back through Boxley I stopped and shot some images of a frosty tree near the road that was just being hit with sunshine. I can't wait for some deep snows this winter - I'll be out the door well before first light with my new camera!
Back at the cabin the ladies were hard at work getting the cabin all fixed up for Christmas, and making the newest member of the Cloudland family feel at home. Yep, we got another lady at the cabin. Her name is Crystal, and she is a cutie. She eats worms. She is a red-eared slider, which is one of those turtles that you often see sunning themselves on logs at the edge of rivers and lakes. You'll probably be hearing more about her as time goes on, but for now, here is Crystal:
12/29/03 We had a good bit of rain yesterday, which created some nice cloud banks down in the canyons early this morning. It was an hour or so after sunrise before I ventured outside onto the deck to shoot a few photos. While I was out there in the brisk chilly breezes, I realized that the clouds way down below were beginning to move around, uncovering some really nice scenes of clouds in the trees down there. I could not get a clear shot of the trees from up at the cabin, so decided to make a quick trip down to a point on the bluff that has a clear view of everything down there (sorry, but it really was true that I could not see the trees for the forest!).
Once those cloud banks get to moving, they do so quickly, and in a few minutes my scene would be gone. So I ran inside and grabbed my heavy slippers, camera bag, and tripod, and flew out the door, right on past my bewildered ladies - oh, I take that back, I often run out the door with camera in hand, so I guess they are used to it.
While I did not know exactly what the temp was, I knew it was at least below freezing since my slippers were hitting frozen patches on the rocks and earth as I sped along down the hillside. I arrived at the viewpoint within about three minutes, and quickly set up the camera and fired off several dozen frames.
The photo gods were good to me this morning - the clouds hung around just long enough for me to get the pictures that I needed, and since I was shooting a big digital camera, I knew the exposures were right on (you get to see the image right after you take it, and with these big digital cameras there are two different places where you can see if you have exposed the frame correctly or not). One of these shots was one I had been wanting to take for a good many years - clouds drifting through bare trees as seen from above. And I nailed it. Yippie, coyote!
I spent another 15 minutes shooting other things from my perch high on the edge of the big bluff, then began to pack up my stuff and head back to the cabin. It was only then that I realized that I had failed to actually get dressed as I ran through the cabin grabbing stuff - so there I stood, on the edge of eternity, with a frigid wind blowing up my skirt as it were - the ONLY thing I was wearing was a brand new forest green bathrobe that my mother in law had given me for Christmas! And those flimsy slippers. It wasn't until I realized this that I began to get chilled - probably as much from the thought of being caught by some poor hiker than from the actual frigid weather. Oh well, what the heck, just another outing for the crazy guy with the camera who lives in the log cabin...
Later in the day I loaded up the camera pack and headed down to the river, hoping to catch some Ozarkglow on the river. It has been a good long while since I have done much serious hiking with a big camera bag and tripod. And to make matters worse, I put on my "real" hiking boots too, which I never use unless I have a heavy load on my back.
The going down the steep hillside was quite slow, and the feel of the boots uneasy. I just plain don't like big, stiff hiking boots, and these are some of the lightweights. But I know they give me some added support so I don't mind them too much.
As I eased on down the hillside I got to thinking about some of the really good photos that I had taken this past several months. With just a few exceptions, nearly all of them were images of trees. Seems that I have gotten into a pattern of photographing trees - the branches and trunks and roots and reflections of. I have always loved trees, and somehow feel akin to them, and am drawn to them, and enjoy pointing the camera at them whenever I get the chance. One of my most favorite picture books on the shelf (and I collect a lot of them by other photographers) is Listen To The Trees by John Sexton (one of the best photo books every published). John is a master of the black and white image, and in fact was Ansel Adam's assistant in the last years that Ansel was around. While my tree images would never measure up to John's, and certainly not any of Ansel's, I have been converting some of mine to black and white and have been very pleased with the results. I have always said that I was not a good enough photographer to be able to see and photograph in black and white, but perhaps the digital age has helped me along a little bit. One of these days I would love to have enough good prints for an actual exhibit of just tree photos. We'll see.
As I reached the bottom of the canyon and began to work my way upstream, I noticed that I was not alone in this enchanted valley of the Buffalo - looked like the leaves ahead of me had been disturbed. A little while later I veered off of my course to take a look at some reflections (of trees) in the river. While standing there on the river bank admiring the view, I looked far upstream and could see movement - a person was standing there behind a tripod-mounted tripod. It was a delightful day to be in the woods, and if this person was camping, he picked a wonderful spot! I did not want to disturb the solitude, so I wandered on back into the forest and continued on upstream.
I returned to the same location that I had photographed a couple of weeks ago, and found some very nice afternoon light - the sun was still above the high ridgetop far away, but it was setting fast. I don't normally shoot rushing water photos in the winter, but this one spot looked rather interesting so I set up and took a few photos. And guess what, the subject was not a tree! I also love running water, so what the heck. A few minutes after I got started shooting, the sunshine that was lighting up the rocks and whitewater, sputtered, then vanished - a heavy shadow had just been laid across me and my scene.
I spent the next hour or so in the area just upstream, shooting nearly 100 photos in four or five different locations. One of the best scenes required me to climb up on top of and out to the very edge of this giant boulder that arched out into and over the river. The wind was blowing (I actually had dressed for the occasion this time), and the position that I needed to get the shot was put me in a bad spot - or actually a good spot to slip and fall into the river from. But that is where the scene was, and that is where I spent about ten minutes clinging to the big boulder from.
Right in the middle of all this I happened to look over and saw two people standing out in the woods - I could not really hear what they were saying over the roar of the river, so I gathered up my gear and crawled on off the boulder and over to where I could hear them. "You must be Tim Ernst." Hum, I couldn't figure out how they know that because I had left my standard hat at home and was wearing a stocking cap. Guess no other fool would climb out onto a big rock in the middle of the river like that but me! They were a nice older couple who had backpacked in and did indeed have a terrific little camp setup back in the forest. They were out for an evening hike before it got too dark. I returned to my boulder and shot a few more photos.
After I was satisfied that there were not more photos to get from that spot, I began to gather myself up once again and turned to go back to the river bank. Just then I noticed that Aspen, the Superdog, was out there on the very edge with me, clinging on for dear life. Of course, dogs have a lot more to cling with than do us humans. I wonder if he was just watching me work, or if he was enjoying the scene as much as I was?
It was a long haul back to the cabin - not so much the length, or even the steep hill that I had to climb. Well, actually, it was that darn steep hill. And the fact that I had a lot of heavy camera gear strapped to my back. And those heavy hiking boots! But I made it up OK, although had to stop three times and blow. All the sunlight had long since faded from the hilltops, and the dusky dark was beginning to fade into real darkness. My bride had fired up the BBQ grill, and it was the aroma of chicken that led me on in. Speaking of grilling, I'm sure a lot of you have already seen this, but for those who had not, I wanted to pass on this LINK for you to go to. It contains a way of testing your beef to see if yours has Mad Cow Disease or not (thanks to Jay Hale for passing it along).
By the way, for those of you who read the OHTA newsletter, the new edition is now online (hard copies to be mailed out tomorrow). You can get to it via our main OHTA web page here.
2/31/03 Just one quick last post as the light is fading outside the windows at Cloudland. I spent the last day of the year in the woods most of the time, working on building a new hiking trail for a friend. It was a great day, with blue skies, sunshine, and warm temps. As I brushed away a ton of dead leaves on the forest floor to get down to bare earth - leaves that had recently flashed the bright colors of fall in the Ozarks - I uncovered hundreds and thousands of acorns, each one perfect, all of them covered up for the winter, just waiting for a crack in their shell as an outlet for a root to put down into the soft earth. Acorns that one day might sprout and grow and reach up to that sunshine and eventually tower over all, and leave simple folks like me below to gaze up in wonder at what tremendous things Momma Nature has made for us.
As the sun dipped low and into the western skyline, Amber and I played one final round of b-ball - she made the last shot of the year. She turned 11 yesterday. What can I say - she is a good egg, and a dad could never ask for more. Her mom finally got a moment of peace and found a quiet corner inside the cabin to read. Aspen and Lucy have been out chasing the wind, and are inside now, cleaning up.
Needless to say 2003 has been the best year of my life so far, and while I don't expect a year could get any better, I have a feeling that 2004 will bring even more treasures to Cloudland in many forms. The year has ended on a very sad note though, as our great friend and also good egg Bill Metzner passed away on Christmas Eve. He moved up from Houston to Fayetteville several years ago to take care of my mom - he made her last years at home with a terrible disease so much better than they could have been. Bill died way too young, and we will miss him.
I want to thank each and every one of you who have followed our exploits this past year, and hope that you have not been too bored. We've received hundreds of wonderful notes from you, and we certainly do appreciate them all. I hope that your year has been a great one, and that the new year ahead will bring untold and unmeasurable happiness to you and your family.
We're having a quiet evening here, with no special plans, other than to enjoy each other and give thanks for all of our good friends.
From all of us here at Cloudland, we wish you a Happy New Year - let's hope it's a good one, without any tears........
The last sunset of the year at Cloudland, from the b-ball court
|
Go here to order guidebooks, picture books, calendars, posters, color prints, & the Search For Haley book |
Cloudland Journal Home
Page | Tim Ernst Home Page
Copyright 2003, CLOUDLAND.NET
This page is courtesy of Arkansas USA, The Net Connection