I love April

Posted on March 30, 2011 by Ozark Hiker

Really, March is sneaky in Arkansas. You get just enough warmth to start seeing a little green haze on the trees.  The daffodils all standing out like annoyingly beautiful young morning people jogging around your grunting knee-crackling self as you lean over in your ratty sweat pants to get the paper before the coffee gets cold.

But April . . . April is too far into beautiful green and warm muddy weekends to remember February.  April is pretty and fresh enough that you can forgive the occasional hard freeze because it’ll be warm again in a few days anyway.  April is that slightly off-kilter, but breathtakingly beautiful girl you dated in college just long enough to know she’d never be sane enough for your mother.   April knocks the closet dust off your flip flops.

I love this month.   I love that this weekend looks to have highs near 70 and sunshine bright in the sky.  My oldest boy has already told me that he’s got a hunger for some place with a fire ring, a picnic table, and a play area.  I can think of a dozen or so places, either state parks or Corps of Engineers campgrounds that fit his description.

Time to see if my youngest still fits in the Kelty kid-pack.

Posted in Random Off-Trail Musings | 2 Comments

See what I mean?

… FREEZE WARNING REMAINS IN EFFECT UNTIL 9 AM CDT THIS MORNING… … FREEZE WATCH IN EFFECT FROM LATE TONIGHT THROUGH MONDAY MORNING…

Posted on March 27, 2011 by Ozark Hiker | Leave a comment

Scratching the Spring Itch

Posted on March 23, 2011 by Ozark Hiker

How I played in the dirt today:

Planted begonias, dusty miller, petunias, and dianthus in my front bed.  The begonias are the dark purplish-red and the dianthus is a variegated red/white.  I planted white, dark purple, and variegated white/purple petunias.  Then I scattered a wildflower seed mix into the rest of the bed just for something surprising.  I pulled out the early Spring weeds.  My hostas are looking good and my mums are just going to be huge.

In the back vegetable gardens, I put 4 broccoli and 4 cabbage plants into the ground.  I bought them on a whim.  Never tried to grow either of those before and figured what the hell.  I planted a second line of spinach seed (the first was two weeks ago) so that I can hopefully spread out the harvest some.  Started corn, carrots, pumpkins, watermelon, and eggplant by seed in the greenhouse.  I know it is a little early for the pumpkins, but my boys picked out those seeds and so I had to let them plant some.  I saved most of the seed for later.

My zukes and squash have just gone gangbusters, pushing out of their little peat cylinders with spidery roots so I chose the four healthiest sets from each and potted it in a larger cup.  Thinned out my turnips, they were crowding each other.   I only really grow them for the greens, but I still need a good set if I’m going to eat up a mess.

I love the musty damp living smell of a greenhouse.

Peppers.  I should have bought peppers.

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Playing in the Dirt

Posted on March 23, 2011 by Ozark Hiker

I started piddling around with gardening about ten years ago, around the time I had my own yard and no kids.  I still have the journal I kept because it has my first mistake.  You’d think writing it down and keeping it around would help me to learn from it, but you’d be wrong. See, I know all about Arkansas weather.  I know we’re just as likely to get a blizzard in April as we are to get a heat wave.  Every single March, when Spring Break rolls around, I stand outside in the warm sunshine and see the dandelion invasion gearing up.  Then, knowing it is a bad idea, I head out and buy several flats of flowers and vegetables.  I spend a few days happily filthy getting dirt under my nails.  Then, in a few weeks, I’ll be checking for freeze warnings and cursing the weather.

But this year, I have a new plan.   I put up a pair of 8×8 greenhouses, one on each end of a raised bed.  I’m not putting anything but flowers in the ground until late April.  But I’m going to play in the dirt today.   (Well, not putting anything in the ground that isn’t already there.)

My blackberries and raspberries are showing new growth.  My strawberries all made it through the winter in spite of a late autumn transplanting.  Two little purplish-green fingers of asparagus have already peeked out of last year’s bed and some of the volunteer seeds out of my compost pile are germinating.  My guess is that they’re pumpkins, butternut, or acorn squash – since those were the last to go into the pile before I shut it down for the winter.  My mint has once again proven its immortality by sneaking out from the sides of a newly raised bed.   Onions and garlic are about an inch tall, competing with the first tiny leaves of lettuce mixes I’ve scattered.

In my greenhouses, tomatoes, zukes, yellow squash, purple-hull peas, and okra are starting to unfurl from their cozy peat cylinders.  Rosemary is losing its scrawny winter coat and filling out fragrantly.  Parsley, sweet basil, oregano, cilantro all peeking out from their pots.

Why am I in here typing on a computer when there’s dirt and sunshine outside?

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Stupid Hurts

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Ozark Hiker

Had to take off a day of work today so I could spend 3 hours in a dentist’s chair.  I got scraped, jabbed, poked, drilled, filed, and chuckled at AND I had to pay them $400.

But I have a new tooth.  Or, well, one on the way.   This next one will be porcelain fused to a metal base.  In the between-time I have this rubbery replacement that sort-of looks like a real tooth but is indescribably better than the peg-toothed yokel-snarl I was sporting this morning.

And, while it is less likely to shatter like this last one did. . .

it still isn’t rated to do the work of my $50 Leatherman Blast.

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Compton Trailhead to Hemmed-In Hollow (part 3)

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Ozark Hiker

Day 2 – adrenaline, aches, altitude, & arches

3/20/2011

Bear Bait is a true outdoorsman.  Not only did that boy sleep so deeply that I had to check his pulse a few times, but he stayed cozied up in his sleeping bag until the fire was made, breakfast was cooked, and his hot cocoa was cooled down enough to drink.  We were already starting to pack up when he finally rolled out of the hammock.

Breakfast was toasted cheese sandwiches, oatmeal, candy bars, Kool-Aid, and hot cocoa for the little guys.  They ate until they were groggy.

The boys played in the stream while Kat and I packed up camp, watered the ashes, and tried to make the place look generally better than we found it.  Original plan was to just head on up the mountain and make a day out of those three miles.  While the boys have been on longer hikes, this climb was going to be the hardest terrain they’ve ever attempted for any distance.  Even after we explained that to them, they still begged us to go back to HIH so they could rock climb and play around some more.  How could we resist?  After a few false starts, delayed as each Dad took his turn leading his boy off a little deeper into the woods with the diminishing roll of toilet paper, we eventually made it to the falls where we enjoyed a good two hours watching the boys play completely uninterrupted by anyone else.

As they started to wind down, we whipped up another batch of camp sandwichis and Kool-Aid then headed up the hill.  It was the Tortoise and the Hare.  Bear Bait is a sprinter.  He ascends in bursts of awe-inspiring energy that eat up maybe twenty or thirty yards at a time.  Then he sits down and pants while the rest of us lumber up.  Kit is a meandering butterfly who probably covers a third more miles than anyone else simply because he drifts from side to side, singing between mini-lectures on botany, paleontology, and geology.  We toyed with changing his trail name to Mister Wizard.

We stopped for the boys’ third breakfast right at the top on that last campsite before you descend down to the falls.  Cleaned up some soup cans left over from last night’s campers.  While we were doing that Bear Bait asked why we were picking up someone else’s trash, which opened up the door for a little lesson on every good backpacker’s responsibility.  For the first hour or so, we gained about a mile and didn’t see anyone on the trail.

As we were nearing the overlook, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo blew past us heading down to the Falls so fast that I thought she was a heat mirage.  The boys were doing great, but Bear Bait was starting to get irritable.  We poured a little more water into them and refueled them with Cheeze-Its and headed on up the mountain.  Maybe a mile from the trail-head, Bear Bait attempted his first and only all-out mutiny.   He plopped down, red-faced and panting after his latest surge uphill and announced that he hated hiking and hated being outdoors. His feet hurt and he was tired and all he wanted to do was camp and none of this walking.

I waved Kat and his boy to go on ahead up, dropped my pack, and sat down with him.  Didn’t say anything for a while, just let him stew.  Offered some water, then pulled out the candy bar I’d been saving just for this occasion.  He grunted when I broke off a piece for him, but accepted it and we ate for a minute in silence.  I told him how every time I go out backpacking, I always wish he was there with me.  Told him how proud I was at how good he’s doing and what a hard climb this is.  I admitted that at least once every backpacking trip, I also hate hiking.   I hate the climb and the stupid rocks and the stupid heat.  He started glancing side-long at me, then, as if I were admitting some deep secret.  I then told him that this was probably the hardest trail he’ll ever go on until he’s grown and if he made it to the top, that he’d know there’s not a trail anywhere around here that can beat him.  Then I explained the power of the cheeseburger march.  How if he could just imagine eating anything and everything his heart desires at McDonald’s on the way home, that he would simply fly up that mountain.  He asked, cautiously, “Anything?”  I nodded.  “Even a sugary caffeine drink?”  I nodded again and his eyes widened because he hardly ever gets to drink soda.  I said, “I’ll even let you order ice cream with M&M’s in it.”  That was all I had to say.  He nodded and said, “Dad, I’m ready.”  And before I could grunt and bend myself upright, he was up the trail and out of sight.

The closer we got to the trail-head, the more tourist-types we began to see on the trail.  Dragon Tattoo girl blew past us heading back up.  She mentioned something about not having enough water but moved so fast I think she may have simply been a figment of my imagination.

The weather was beautiful.

We made it up those 2.5 miles in about 3.5 hours.  The boys fell asleep almost before we could get out of the parking lot and didn’t wake up until we got to Springdale.  Stopped at a McDonald’s and watched the boys gorge happily on nuggets, fries, root beer, and ice cream.   Just like their daddies tend to do, their conversation was mostly about where the next trip will be.

Posted in Backpacking, Backpacking with Kids, Buffalo River, Ponca Wilderness Area, Trip Report | Tagged , , , , | 3 Comments

Compton Trailhead to Hemmed-In Hollow (part 2)

Posted on March 20, 2011 by Ozark Hiker

Day 1 – cowboys, climbing, canoers, and camp sandwichis

3/19/2011

Got a new term that has worked its way into our hiking lexicon:  Backwoods Dentistry.   Walgreens landed me a few Q-tips, some superglue, and an overpriced thimble of paste guaranteed to hold a crown on firm enough “to eat on!”  Heading down 412, the boys coloring on notebooks in the back, I cemented that crown together as best I could and tried that paste every which way I could imagine.  Not a bit of it worked.

Boys were raring to go, so we loaded up and headed out.  I won’t say much more about that tooth except to say I will never, ever, ever use my teeth for anything but eating again.  Ever.  Seriously.  Every time I talked, that tooth would fly out and bounce around on the rocks.  I dug it out of leaf piles, stream beds, and trail ruts.  That tooth covered more miles of the trail than I did.   By the time I got off the trail, that damn thing didn’t even look like a tooth anymore.   The superglue didn’t ever stick very well, so I ended up painting the outside of it with glue just to hold it together.   Bear Bait was thoroughly freaked out by the stubby little tooth-piece that normally holds the crown in place.  He called it my witch-tooth and said it made me look scary.  I agree.  Every time I grinned, we’d hear banjos wafting through the jagged, leafless trees.

Enough with the tooth, though.

Compton trailhead was packed.  We were parked three-deep with a field half-full of horse trailers out behind.  Downhill is all the fun.  Those boys positively sailed down.  This was my first time going to Hemmed-In Hollow (HIH from now on) by way of the Compton trail, so I was unprepared for the rather motley crew of folks coming up from sight-seeing.  I bet about half the folks we saw straining their way up were somewhat surprised at the effort required to get back to the car.   I felt bad for them mostly because it looked like they weren’t having much fun.  A little extra water and maybe some clothes made for this kind of excursion might have made their trip a bit more fun.  There’s day hikers and then there’s tourists, I guess.  I love ’em all, just so long as they pick up their trash.

HIH was packed full.  Mostly folks canoeing the Buffalo, it seemed, but there was a row of duded up horse riders who moseyed on in.  I haven’t encountered horse riders too many times on the trail, but it saddens me that every single time I’ve run into riders on the trail has been a negative experience.  One of ‘em, upon seeing our boys told his buddy, “If I wanted be ‘round kids, I woulda stayed at home.”   I don’t mind the horses, even with the carpet of crap they leave on the trail.  I think horses are noble, beautiful animals.  But why do the riders have to be such jerks?

The cowboys jingle-jangled their way out after a while; the echoes of two ecstatic rock-climbing boys chasing them down the trail.  Bear Bait and Kit laughed and chunked rocks and climbed and slipped and played “spider” in the tree.  We ate camp sandwichis and drank grape Kool-Aid.

Day hikers and canoers and backpackers all mingled happily.  Handing cameras around and taking pictures.  (Kat leaned in and said, “You know, the trail is about the only place a total stranger will hand you a $400 camera and then walk away.”)  There were a lot of kids on Spring Break coming up from the river.  A grand time was had by all.

Kat wanted to head up and around the rim to see Diamond Falls, maybe even camp there.  Bear Bait was getting tired and hungry and I was a little worried about how well he’d listen to me.  There’s some narrow, slippery ledges we’d have to cross and I didn’t need him pitching an independence tantrum while I was clinging to the side of a bluff.   We changed plans and decided to head down to the river, maybe set up camp near there.

River was packed, folks camped all along it and canoes everywhere.  It was getting late and the boys were hungry, so we went off-trail along the other side of the creek a ways until we found a really old fire ring.  Old enough that the only cans we found around it were pull-tabs.

Hammocks were hung, fire pit cleaned out.  Hot dogs, grape Kool-Aid, and toasted camp sandwichis.  We real bad wanted to see the supermoon, but the boys were worn plumb out and the Dads were red-eyed from lack of sleep the night before.  So we tucked the boys in real snug and read Dr. Seuss books until they fell asleep.  Kat retired to his hammock and I fell asleep listening to the snores of two worn-out little boys.

I did wake up around midnight, I think.  I guess the clouds had cleared enough that it looked like pure daylight outside.  I unzipped the side of my hammock and peeked out.  Couldn’t see the moon and was just warm enough and just tired enough that I figured I’ll catch it the next time it comes around.  In about eighteen years.

Posted in Backpacking, Backpacking with Kids, Buffalo River, Ponca Wilderness Area, Trip Report | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Compton Trailhead to Hemmed-In Hollow (part 1)

Posted on March 20, 2011 by Ozark Hiker

Part 1 – pre-hike madness and why you should just use the multitool (ya lazy bum)

3-18-2011

Arrived at Kat’s house just before dark on Friday.  Plan was to set up all three hammocks and sleep outside.  That’ll give us a dry run on figuring out what it’ll take to get those two boys to sleep comfortably and warmly in a double-hammock.  Kat’s place is out in the boonies up on a mountainside and what we didn’t know was that some crazy apocalyptic windstorm was going to be blowing up that hill.  But I get ahead of myself.  After darkfall, we’re still trying to work out how to get the boys’ hammock storm-proof.  We already wrapped Kat’s up in a heavy car-camper tarp in a style we call chalupa, but needed a bit more open area so that we can check on the boys and fix ‘em when they needed fixing.

Ended up stretching a silnylon tarp over paracord and staking it down.  Wrapped Bear Bait and Monkey in my 0-degree mummy.  Kat’s boy Kit was in a 20-degree bag.  Had ‘em sleeping feet-to-feet, but they were way too giggly and excited to go to sleep.  So Kat brought out a couple of books and we took turns reading to them until they drifted off to sleep.   I popped a couple of NyQuil gel-caps and crawled into my hammock to read.   Figuring I’d drift off to sleep and wake up in a few hours to a boy calling out ‘cause he was cold, or scared, or had to pee.   Oh, boy was I wrong.

This crazy wind blew in, just roaring up the side of that mountain.  And it was cold.  Whipping around hard enough that I couldn’t keep my tarp down.  It was loud as a freight train.  Try as I could, I just couldn’t get to sleep.   I got up at about 10 to check on the boys, thinking that if they even so much as whimpered that I’d bundle them up and take them inside where I’d sleep on the couch.   But oh no, they were snoring like lumberjacks.  The warmth was emanating off the top of that bag like it was a space heater.   (Come to find out, Kat had the same thought when he – freezing and unable to sleep in that wind – checked on them an hour later.)

Around 1 in the morning, I got up again but this time it was because my hammock ropes were stretched too far and had sagged enough to put my butt on the ground.  In the cold, whipping wind I stood there thinking that my Leatherman was just inside a short walk away.  That hastily tied slip-knot was tighter than a duck’s . . . well, it was real tight.  I was tired and cold, though, so I just bit down on that rope to work it loose a little bit.   I wasn’t done reminding myself it was a bad idea when the crown on my front tooth split clean in half.  The front half bounced off into the darkness while the back half tried to kill me.

Let’s just say I didn’t get much sleep.

Those boys didn’t so much as miss a beat in their synchronized snoring that whole blasted night.  Woke up the next morning, eager and impatient to go.   Wind had died down, the world was a nice cool 55 degrees, and we had miles yet to go before hitting trail dirt.

Posted in Backpacking, Backpacking with Kids, Buffalo River, Ponca Wilderness Area, Trip Report | Tagged , , | Leave a comment

Bear Bait’s (revised) list

Posted on March 14, 2011 by Ozark Hiker

We talked about his list and brainstormed a few other essentials.  While we were eating dinner with his grandparents this afternoon, I sketched out a little graphic organizer for him to fill out.  Here is his revised list:

I think he’s pretty set on the hot dogs, so I’m going to make sure that happens.  Notice how he went from big nife to khukri.  How’s that for specific details?   However, we don’t pack in blades any bigger than the one on my Leatherman.  I asked him why he wanted a big knife and he explained that it was to help us gather wood for a campfire – to cook the hot dogs.   That tells me there’s a chance for me to talk about only using established fire rings and only gathering dead wood – but that can wait for the trail.  I still like that he was thinking ahead.

oat meal for breakfast and grape Kool-Aid.

Also, please notice the wise choice of sleeping gear:  hamics and sleeping-bags.  I’ve made a hanger out of my boy, and he’s only just getting started!   Took me thirty years longer to figure out that bit of backwoods comfort.   I’m working on teaching him about temperatures and weather reports, so that’s why I wrote the weekend high and low.  He wasn’t going to bring sleeping bags until I gave him an idea about how cool 50-degrees is.

Also, it appears that we will be wearing underwar, pants, and pagamas.  That is probably for the best.

Pre-pack Walmart haul:

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Bear Bait’s food list

Posted on March 13, 2011 by Ozark Hiker

As I posted here, part of backpacking with kids is to give them a little responsibility for the hike.  My #1 son will be with me and yesterday I gave him the job of writing down a list of food.  While he was writing this out, I was giving #2 a bath and so all revisions are his own.   If you examine the list, you’ll notice a few important things:

1. camp sandwichis are entirely too important to be hyphenated.  Two years ago, Kat and I took the boys (then 4 and 3 yrs old) down to the Buffalo River.  We set up a base camp at Steel Creek and then spent about four days hiking all over the place.  Hawksbill Crag, Hideout Hollow, various other spots.  (I’ll have to write some time about how we got two little boys down into Hideout Hollow.)  We underestimated the ravenous nature of boys who spend all day long either swimming, running, or climbing.  Camp sandwiches are simply a slice of white bread and a slice of yella cheese.  Both boys ate about a million of them before, during, and after meal time while on the river.

2. hot dogs and ham Burgurs are not necessarily “Meat”

3. fresH fish may not be the best thing to bring on a backpacking trip.

I do believe he is well on his way to mastering the woodsmanly art of backpacking Arkansas.

Posted in Backpacking, Backpacking with Kids, Trail Cooking | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment