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.