No Fishing, Just Hiking

The Volunteer Trail towards Steele Falls

Steele Falls to Blanchard Springs by way of Gunner Pool

Our mission for the day was Steele Falls, just north of Mountain View and Blanchard Springs, in the Ozark-St Francis National Forest. Based on what we had already witnessed, it was likely to be dry as well, but we forged ahead anyway. It was only an hour north from our location, and there were other interesting things to investigate if that did not work out.

We were out relatively early and on location by late morning. It had not been difficult to find. We had a book with the coordinates in it, along with fairly specific directions on locating the falls. It was not quite as clearly marked as anticipated, but there were not as many turn offs to choose from on the 5 miles of gravel wash board we traversed to find it; indeed, the one or two choices we encountered were pretty obvious.

The hike down into the hollow was not very difficult either, as the book promised. It was not quite as “pleasant” as the book outlined though; that is, unless you discount the gnats, chiggers, horseflies and mosquitos that pestered us at every opportunity. The best thing one could do was to keep moving and hope for the best. Another obstacle, which my good friend Harley was good enough to let me block, was the spider webs. They were everywhere, and after the short mile-long hike down to the bed of the creek, I felt as though I was crawling with the little monsters.

Blue Morpho Butterflies

We lingered at the junction of the trail and the bed of the creek for a bit, debating whether to pursue the current course of action or not. We hiked in about 20 yards or so. The book indicated that we should follow a Volunteer path that followed the creek, and that seemed easy enough; assuming the bed of the creek was the path. There were downed limbs everywhere though, and more spider webs, worse than during the trip down. The dry creek did not look promising either. After a bit of discussion, we decided to wait for another time later in the fall. We had other options anyway, and began the trek back to the car, pausing long enough to marvel at a cluster of Blue Morphos butterflies that had come all the way up from Peru to observe our struggle.

North Sylamore Creek at Gunner Pool Recreation Area

Winding our way back to the Gunner Pool Road, we decided to drop its namesake. I had always seen the sign, but had never bothered to stop in. What a surprise! A perfect little camping area alongside a shallow and clear creek trickled through. After wearing our shoes down on the hike, we decided it was a good time to kick them off and wade it. The water was cool and refreshing, but the bottom covered with smooth round stones was not quite as comfortable as it appeared; additionally, the safety of the large fallen rocks on the edge was an illusion. My first attempt to secure footing on them proved almost fatal for the camera. Covered with a slick glaze of moss, I slipped and stumbled, then quickly retreated to the sure footing of the not-so-comfortable pebble bed of the creek.

We lingered only a short while before heading over to Blanchard Springs, stopping in at the Visitor Center long enough to find a line for the cave tours stretched out to the doors. We waited for a few minutes and then decided to come back. We could waste a little time at Mirror Lake and let the crowd die off a little. There were people everywhere there too though; at least, on the trail leading to the outpouring from the caverns.

Halfway up the dry falls at Blanchard Springs

Determined to explore less populated opportunities, we started to turn around and noticed the flow of water that comes in from the other side was non-existent. Wandering between the huge boulders, looking for a good shot up the dry falls, I soon found myself halfway up. A few other folks were working their way up, and it looked easy enough, so I decided to forge ahead; behind me, Harley mumbled something about being surprised that I had him climbing a rockslide. There was no sympathy. He had been warned about this. We made it nearly to the top with very little effort, and captured some interesting photos along the way, but stopped when those that had gone before us mentioned a snake lurking nearby. We obtained directions on how best to avoid the legless beast, and quickly passed without incident.

Stone Dam holding back Mirror Lake

The trail back down was the path of choice for a leisurely stroll back to the parking area. It picked up again across the parking lot, and since we had nothing but time on our hands, followed that lead. I warned Harley though; if we followed it, there would likely be more rock climbing involved. He remained undeterred. It turned out that I was mostly wrong, and a relatively easy hike, following the edge of the 3-acre rainbow trout haven, to a stone dam constructed by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC) back in the 1930s.

The original lake and dam were not a CCC venture though. One Steve Mitchell and his crew originally constructed a wooden situation sometime during the early 1900s to serve his mill and the surrounding community with ground corn and ginned cotton. The dam failed, the CCC reconstructed it. They planned to restore the old mill to operational condition as well, but World War II put a stop to that.

The Ruins of Mitchell Mill

Continuing through the ruins of the mill, we found there was a path that led down to it from above, and so chased. It seemed there were only two choices when we reached the end; either return the way we came, or walk the road a half mile back to the car. We chose the latter, but noticed another trail below the road along the way.

We returned to the cave after that, only to find out that all of the remaining tours had just sold out. That was a little bit of a bummer. Harley had never been through a cave, and we were looking forward to cooling off in the damp and dark recesses after all hiking around in the hot and humid environment that is North Central Arkansas in early September. It is not really all that bad; that is, until you start to move around and do stuff. It never really is the heat though, it is the humidity. Either way, hot and sweaty is hot and sweaty.

An individual noted our despair and offered to get us in on the next tour. Unfortunately, the tour was an hour and a half long. It was 4 pm, the tour did not start until 430, and we had promised to be back by 6 pm for supper. If we took the tour, it would be six before we were done, and we still had an hour drive to get back. Words cannot describe the level of appreciation we felt at the offer to get us in to the last sold out tour, but we decided to head back, rather than let our hosts down. I t would give us a reason to come back anyway, and opted for a tour of the little attached museum display instead.

We probably should have gone ahead with the tour. When we returned, it was another hour before we left, and then had some difficulty deciding upon just the right place to feed. Nearly every place we stopped was full of folks with the same notion. It had been a long day for everyone, and crankiness was beginning to fill the air. After doubling back twice, I simply stated that whatever we were eating it was going to be in the path in front of us. It was too! We ended the day around a table at Las Playitas, devouring sustenance of the Mexican sort.

. . . 

Further Reading

Gunner Pool Recreation Area - Ozark-St Francis National Forest

Blanchard Springs Recreation Area - Ozark-St Francis National Forest

Blanchard Springs Caverns

A Little Fishing, A Little Paddling

Kayaking on the Little Red River

Floating along the Little Red River in search of Trout

We got an early start on another sunny and clear day along the Little Red. Slightly mired in a minor lack of planning, we probably should have considered our Saturday plans before touring around. Odd, how little difference that seems to make during off time. There is always time.

The original plan was to put in at the dam and float down to Baker’s Ford, which evolved to putting in at that location and going on down to Dripping Springs; both, about a 10 mile journey by water. We were still pondering that possibility when we headed off to breakfast and to gather a few necessitates. Realizing that the day was getting away from us, and that we were going to be fishing along most of the way rather than paddling, we decided to limit the expedition to 5 miles. That changed the question to whether we would put in at Cow Shoals or Baker’s Ford; either way, we were going to need a ride. We decided the best of the options would be the latter, and we would just make our way to Lobo Landing.

Turtle sunning on a log, along the Little Red River

And so the plan came together, and we were on the water by noon. There was nothing particularly significant about the trip. The river is a little insistent about perpetual motion until near the end of Scroncher Shoal, so we followed its bidding only finding a few spots to break into calm water. Just before the next bend and shoal area, it widens and becomes deeper. Indeed, In spite of a couple of other shoal areas shown on the map, by the time the bluffs at Libby Access soar into view, the river is about six feet until crossing Libby Shoal. It immediately deepens again and remains that way all the way to Lobo Landing.

Little Red River

We spent about four hours floating along, attempting to lure our prey. Harley caught one near the end of the journey, but I only caught a few interesting photos. It was a beautiful day for the little trip though, with temperatures in 30s C. The water temperature was likely in the teens, and not conducive to submersion, so we avoided that particular detail. Harley did think it was cute to douse me with a splash of his paddle, to which I replied with one of my own. While it was a bit refreshing in the heat of the day, neither of us was interested in feeling the initial freeze again, and we quickly called a truce.

Blue Heron along the Little Red River

After loading up the kayaks and all the gear, we were beginning to feel the effects only eating a bit of jerky. Suzie’s Ice Cream Shoppe in Pangburn was somewhat on the way, so we stopped a little refreshment from sweet Suzie herself. She is just about the nicest person, but then everyone seems to have a better attitude the further south you go; some even more so. She loaded us up with a burger, hot dog, fries, a root beer float and Harley succumbed to the temptation of the Hot Fudge Sundae. He had been wavering towards the Cold Dog, a concoction devised of a Twinkie split in half, with ice cream, with caramel and chocolate all over. He chickened out at the last minute though.

Spring Park

It had been a good day, and the evening just as good. We dropped in long enough to clean up. A shower is just what you need sometimes to recharge. After some discussion, we agreed to grill up some steaks, after we dropped in on the little show down in Spring Park. The band we had heard briefly the night before was opening for a girl out of Nashville, and we were curious to hear a bit more. We only stayed for about an hour though. Steaks and beers awaited our return, and begged our safe and early return.

US Army Corps of Engineers Map of the Little Red River

A Little Fishing, A Little Hiking

Round Hole on the Little Red River

The first part of a Labor Day weekend adventuring in Arkansas

Labor Day weekend seemed as good as any time to break away for a little fishing expedition; as well, kayaking, hiking, and general getting lost in the woods of North Central Arkansas. While there was not quite as much of the latter, plenty of the former was well at hand.

My good friend Harley and I bolted out of town in the middle of Thursday afternoon, in the hopes of beating most of the lake traffic that could potentially haunt us in multiple locations. The two most perilous sections being from Kansas City to Truman Lake, and from there to the Table Rock / Bull Shoals area. Beyond that, the only hazard was darkness and suicidal deer. We encountered very little lake traffic though, and the deer population must have been in good spirits. They only watched from the side of the road the few times we identified their existence.

We arrived at our destination on schedule, just before midnight, and kicked back with a cold beer and conversation with our hosts, the good Doctor and his wife. They confirmed much of what I had seen on the US Geological Survey Stream Gauge web site. Water levels had been fairly consistent over the last month, and the Corps had only been running water in the late afternoon and evening hours. Trout fishing would likely be at its finest, as well as any attempts to paddle downstream. With nothing else but blue skies and sunshine, the weekend outlook was purely positive. All we needed was a little sleep to put the seven hour road trip behind us. Google said it was six. They lied.

Bakers Ford on the Little Red River

A beautiful morning greeted us Friday, and a quick glance out the window confirmed a pristine ankle-deep river at our spot at Baker’s Ford. This shallow water area has the perfect bottom structure to attract and hold big trout; on top of that, nobody else was out and about. In short order, we were down on the dock, having had nothing more than a cup of coffee and a pastry. There were fish to be had! Harley dragged the first two catches out, but had no further luck the remainder of the day; the next six were mine, though I could only keep five, due to limits. None of them were very large, but perfect pan size. As the afternoon lingered on, and having spent a good 5 hours at it, the fish seemed less and less interested in our game, so we retired in the middle of the afternoon.

Walking Bridge along Collins Creek Trout Stream Trail

After cleaning the fish up and then ourselves, I decided to show Harley at a few of my usual haunts around town. We first dropped in on the lookout at the dam, then headed down to Collins Creek to dip our feet in the water and go for a short hike along the trail there. From there, we headed over to another favorite of mine, Bridal Veil / Cornelius Falls. These two are within shouting distance of each other, and a small deer trail leads from the rim of one, directly to the other. I usually go for a walk down to the base, but a day in the sun on the river had taken a little bit of a toll on us both, and we were not really prepared for all that climbing around. Additionally, the main falls were dry as a bone, and following the path to the other falls, we found the same sad story. It was really no matter though. Having been to these spots so many times in the past, I had plenty of photos already. It would have been nice to show off falls actually on duty though.

Having had enough fun for one day, we stopped back by the house and scooped up the the Doctor, and headed out for a little dinner at Mack’s Fish House. The special of the day was Crab boil and two for one Rib Eye, which was very tasty. As an added bonus, a band that would be performing the next night at Spring Park was doing a little demo gig there. We were considering checking out the show, and their little performance at Mack’s convinced us to drop in on their show Saturday night too.