| Camping
- 10/21/99 - 10/25/99
The following week-end I went to One Map Place for a Topographical Map of the State Park. I had to order it but it arrived in plenty of time to scope out the area. I had been wanting to get topo maps of the spots we camped at. It was nice to be able to get familiar with the area prior to getting there and we wanted to see how rough the Parks hiking trails it would be. Plus, topo maps are just cool to old Boy Scouts. . . I had taken the week off - 21st - 28th - so I had Thursday to get ready while Carole had to work: I got gas, put air in the tires, cleaned the windshields, added some hydraulic linkage fluid for the clutch. Then I started cogitating the correct procedure for the stowage of camping gear in a Honda Civic. I thought I'd be really smart and bring our fire wood with us, since many Parks are pretty scarce of it. Albertson's had it in these honk'n mesh onion sacks for $9 a sack. We got two. Plus 2 ice chests, an ice chest sized vinyl container for kitchen stuff and dry goods, 4 sleeping bags, tent, ax, saw, 2 2.5 gal. containers of water (from Albertson's), tarps, chairs, and the rest filled the trunk and the back seat. . . I had taken my time about it and before long Carole was home. I think she was a little disappointed that it wasn't all done because she was under the impression that we'd hop in the car and take off as soon as she got home. It wasn't but just a bit and we were ready - ready for rush hour traffic out of Dallas. . . :) The Toll way, the first leg of the Get'n out of Dodge Phase, was pretty smooth. LBJ was a bummer, notable only for the beat up '61 Hearse with a wobbly wheel we tailed for some time. Carole was delighted and thought the old Junker was a treasure. The Bond'O only added to its essential. . . hippie-vanishness. (We noted another out in a salvage pasture somewhere on the way home too). Soon enough, though, we were over Lake Ray Hubbard (The Sea of Dallas), what I consider the Dallas frontier. I-30 was as nice as I-30 can be. It was dark before we reached Greenville. We were starting to feel a bit hungry and we had planned to stop at the Jack In The Box we had eaten at on the way out last time. We passed one in Sulfur Springs, but I was just sure it was somewhere around Mt. Vernon. By the time we got to Mt. Pleasant (after Mt Vernon) I realized the error of my ways. So we had to settle for a Burger King. . . A quick burger, and Coffee for the road, and we were off again. Carole sure was happy. She sang every song she could think of as we traveled. If I wasn't already as happy as she was, that certainly would have put me there. :) As we were tooling along about 10 PM, prior to Texarkana, I happened to notice a highway patrolman off on the side of the road, to the right. I didn't think much about it as my driving was well within reason. I might have been doing 72mph at the most but I trimmed it back anyway. I don't know if it was the same patrolman but just after I passed a Semi I noticed the law in my rearview mirror. Directly the lights were going. . . Curses. I pulled over. I put all the things one learns on "Top Cops" into practice: stayed in the car with my hands visible. After a bit of a pause, I assume to radio in my tags and check for outstanding arrest warrants, the officer approached, shining his flashlight through the window upon our mess of gear. "License, Please," he said. I handed it to him. "Where y'all heading?" Lake Catherine, I said. "Where's That?" Between Hot Springs and Malvern. "Gonna Do Some Camping?" Yes, sir. "Well the reason I stopped you was the way you signaled when passing that truck. Y'all have a good time." He walks back to his car. Hmm. I did remember my signal was one of those one or two blink signals done as lanes are being changed. Well I did make sure I was around the truck. . . I figured I was good to use the signal at all. I mean I normally do. But then sometimes I don't. Oh well. I think the officer was bit disappointed what good citizens we were. I remarked to Carole that I bet my recent haircut had something to do with that impression. Such a clean cut boy. . . . :) The rest of the trip was in uneventful, as Carole continued her serenade. I thought to myself that the fact that I didn't even get a warning ticket probably hand more to do with Carole's having sung a couple of old evangelical church hymns prior to our being stopped than with my clean cut appearance. . . :) At
last we arrived at the exit - State Hwy 171. In just a few minutes
we were in the §§§
One. Two. Three. Four. Lincoln Log style. Squirt Squirt S q u i r t. . . God Bless the man who invented charcoal starting fluid. Whoosh. Mmm. Warrmm. Chair. Need chair. I averted my gaze from the ice chest as I went for a chair, not having the mental capacity at the present to be properly incensed. Takes no brains. Chair set itself up. Goood Chair. Goood Fire. Feet getting warm. Coffee. Need coffee. This time I peeked as I went for the coffee stuff. Wasn't dream. Coons. It took a little fumbling and a couple of trips but the makings were out, scattered about the picnic table. I set up the little bottle-top propane stove and set 10 cups of Albertson's brand spring water to boil. Put a filter in a percolator basket. Coffee grounds in filter. Assembly on top of new camping coffee pot. You've seen them. It was one of those blue enamel metal things with white speckles. As I waited for the water to boil I milled around the fire, which had become quite pleasant. I took the same moments gaze around the camp site we had chosen in the dark. Not too bad. Nice view of the lake. Only one RV trailer several sites down. It was quiet - like mornings in the autumn woods are. Hmm. Looks like another bacon package over there. And there's a cream cheese lid. Other assorted, yet to be identified pieces of packaging material were observed. Resignation. I checked the water. Little fizzy bubbles starting. I walked over to the ice chest. Stood there an moment, then bent down and lifted the lid. Foot prints. Muddy foot prints. Yuck. Everything that was on top of the ice was gone: 2 packages of bacon, 1 package maple breakfast sausages, 1 tub Cream Cheese, 1 log deli baloney, I'm sure something else too. . . I bent again and picked up the Half 'n Half. It seemed basically intact. It wasn't leaking anyway. I ferried it over to the Spring Water dispenser I had set on the table and rinsed off all the Ebola I could without soap.
Presently Carole poked her head out of the tent, "Good Morning! I Love You!" she said. Then I observed the tent do various odd deformations as she struggled to dress without standing on the mattress. If I were a Coon I wouldn't have been able to deduce that, but I am a superior animal. . . Ha! Chew on that. Creeps. Soon we were sitting together in our two new "good deal" Coleman Camping Chairs, sipping some most marvelous coffee. Mine even had Ebola-free Half 'n Half! It was wonderful. For breakfast we had a piece of Pita Bread. §§§
So we took our 'daylight' tour of the Park camping areas. Along the way the deer were still evident. We saw at least two Bucks, one of which had a rather impressive set of antlers. He'd best stay in the Park, as "Muzzle Loader" Season had begun. "Area A" is where we should have been. It was a little further from the lake, a bit more secluded, buffered from the power station. Situated at the peak of a knoll in the road and butting up against the woods. We only had other campers on two sides here. It was little more private and camping-like. So we claimed dibs by duffle bag and ice chest (the second one). Woe to any who dare violate. (We also stuck our permit tag for the other site at this one to be safe). We drove back to the station and re-registered. With camping license in hand we returned to our erstwhile camp. We just needed to move. Though it was a bit of a bother it wasn't too bad. Gathering the small stuff and jumbling it in the trunk, the tent we loosely folded into quarters and placed it on top of the trunk using our sack of firewood to hold it there. The lantern topped it off. Fortunately it was still early and not to many folks had shown up yet. We were quite a sight. Re-pitching was fast and once finished we decided to check out the Park a little more. §§§ We drove through the Park checking out the various attractions: The cabins, swimming area and boat launches, the rent a tent area (already set up for you). We made sure to check out the hiking Trailhead. It wasn't too far from where we finally ended up. We even took a brief stroll up the trail, noting the point where the three trails diverged. There are three hiking trails that loop around various geographic features of the Park. A five mile trail, a three mile trail, and a two mile trial. We decided to hike the Falls Branch Trail. At two miles it was our best bet and planned to hike it the next day. We then returned to camp, messed around a little and decided to take a nap. The air mattress made the wonderful weather so much the nicer for napping. We woke about 4:30 - refreshed. It was now time to make good on my pledge to visit the Edge-of-Park convenience store. After a brief stretch we again bundled into the car and headed out. We got behind a little red compact. She was slower than me. . . We followed her all the way to the store. Inside we picked up bacon, milk and Minute Rice (I forgot to mention that Coons got my pre-made regular rice which I had brought along for the gumbo we were going to have for diner). Since the store wasn't far we were back at camp in no time and I proceeded to Gumbo making (lip smack). First in order: a nice oak coal fire.
After washing up the utensils a bit Carole and I sat by the fire. Sharing a camp fire with someone you love has always been a wonderful thing. It must be the best way to unwind for sleep. More people should know that I guess. The day had been very mild but as the darkness wore on a chill set in also. Not really cold. Just enough to make one appreciate their warm sleeping bags. Friday night we drifted off to sleep in a concert of tree frogs. §§§ Saturday morning! Brrrrr! This was the coolest morning of the camping trip. The kind of morning that makes ones toes known to oneself - even in shoes. It wasn't long and the ritual of the previous morning was complete - toes now toasting next to the fire, coffee ready. I'm a little cold by nature so I had brought my field jacket, complete with liner. It sure was snug. I even found the my wool watch cap in the pocket. Hmm. Chin's a little scratchy. Before long Carole was up too. I proceeded to break out our newly replenished stock of fat-back - Er, well, bacon, I guess. We bought the thick kind. I hefted the cast iron skillet atop my handy little propane burner, having lit the thing with no difficulty. Unlike the next day, I laid out each slice of bacon nice and neat. Mmm. there's not much nicer than the aroma of cooking bacon. Laid out on paper towels the bacon provided the lube for wonderful scrambled eggs too. We don't normally eat breakfast so this was nice treat.
§§§ After about an hour I woke. There was still lots of daylight left. I went to hunt up some fire wood. A few years earlier there had been some sort of wind storm that had blown over lots of trees. They were mostly rotten though. After wandering around a bit I did gather an arm load of reasonably worthwhile fire wood. I drug (dragged) it back and had a nice large fire going when Carole woke. One of the larger pieces of wood was a pine limb. It was saturated with sap and burned furiously for a while. I put the Gumbo on a little earlier this evening - warming it up over the pine coals. Though most of the shrimp were gone, we had left the crab claws. I guess because they were a bit of a bother to eat. Once you get the hang of it they're okay. We finished off the rest of the pot that evening and I still had some daylight left to wash the pot. We sat and watched the fire for a long time this evening. We watched and stirred and watched and poked until the glowing coals had reduced themselves to ash. Carole and I sat, quietly chatting about all sorts of things. In the glow of the dimming embers a rustling was heard to our right, just outside the glow of our waning embers. "There's a critter over there," I said, half amazed that one would come so close. I chucked a piece of wood or something and the rustling scurried toward the car. I went and retrieved the flashlight from the tent. I was a bit concerned, as I hadn't yet put away the ice chest and other food. Sure enough. It was a Coon - a youngster from the size of it - making it's way knowingly toward dinner. . . It's little eyes beamed green twinkles as it scanned back and forth from me to dinner. I shooed him until he went back of the camp toward the woods. A moping gate, it paused several times to look back and pout. As long as I'm out of my chair, might as well put up the gear and go to bed. . . that the evening was cool was becoming more and more apparent. I don't know what time it was when I awoke. In the darkness: the darndest rustling racket. I listened a moment, then 'decided to take a look, figuring our Coon friend had returned with his big brother. Fumbling I found the flashlight and I stood. Maybe I crawled then stood - still a little groggy. Poking myself out of the tent I scanned the area of racket. . . I was amazed to see the most honk'n armadillo I had ever seen. It was every bit of a foot across, probably more. It just rooted like never-you-bother. I bent and scooped up a handful of the gravel that made up the tent pad (actually it was more like kitty litter) and lobbed it in the general direction of the monster. I wanted to see it pop straight up as I had seen camping as a kid. This is a behavior that gets Armadillos into trouble if a car happens to be passing over head. . . He didn't pop. . . but he took off like a bat out of torment - for about twenty feet then stopped to reconnoiter the danger. It took all of about two seconds and he was rooting around again like - "Geez buster, can't you do better than that?" 'Lobbed another handful. Again it move about twenty feet in half a second, plowing through flying leaves. Then began rooting as before. This little sequence played itself out several times. Eventually Bruiser rooted his way away to more undisturbed dining. I went back to bed, a full moon beaming down through the vent in top of the tent. §§§ In the haze between consciousness and slumber I heard it. Carole said it first, "Happy Anniversary!" That sure was a nice way to wake on our last day of camping, October 24th 1999. Our first anniversary. The neighbors across the way were up before light also. I think the Mrs. (The Touchstone Family as we discovered from the permit tag they left on the post) was a little POed about something. One calls to mind a wet hen (not that I have really ever seen a wet hen). Seems she couldn't get out of there fast enough. It was quiet after that. I went through the morning fire, coffee and breakfast routine. And we savored our last bit of sitting around the campfire soaking in all the sights and sounds of morning in the woods. Then. We had to break camp. It was getting on in the morning and we wanted to get to Mountain Thyme a little early. |
Our
Autumn '99 Camping Trip was wonderful as usual. We had planed a
trip to 
Fortunately
I woke early Friday morning. The air was crisp with Autumn
cool. My "Oophs" were barely
audible as I quickly got dressed. 'get to test new coffee
method, new pot, I thought cheerfully to myself. As I
emerged from the tent my thoughts shifted to, "I get to
use some of our firewood." A little more stiff
than groggy, I proceeded towards the car for the wood. A barely
conscious perception wafted past the coolness of the still gray
dawn: 'trash round ice chest.' My progress toward
the car was not to be impeded: "must.
get. warm.", I thought to myself.
But that previous thought tugged my head toward the chest and forced my
eyes to focus, if a bit slowly. "That looks just
like Half 'n Half. Dim Realization - even as I
skipped no beat, now maneuvering a sack of wood.
"Coons."
Boiling.
Good. I proceeded to fill the little percolator basket with
boiling water. The first pouring always drips through pretty
quickly. As successive pourings drip
more slowly, I set the water back on the heat. Eventually the last
of the water had been poured and dripped through. I brought some
16 oz. Styrofoam coffee cups that I saved from 7-Eleven purchases.
They're almost perfect for coffee. And - they're free, if
you don't count the 96¢ the original coffee cost (I always give the
7-Eleven Somalian Person $1.01. That way I get a nickel
back). Pour in Half 'n Half up to the first casting mark then pour
in coffee (no stirring that way). Voila. 
It
was getting close to 8 A.M. now and we needed to go register our camp
site with the rangers. We hopped in the car and drove down the way
to whence we had proceeded last night. Following the signs, we
parked and walked in. Neat little shop. At the counter I
waited behind a couple who had just got there. The Mrs. kept
protracting. "Oh, do you have firewood?" she asked,
running outside to check. I was starting to get nervous (for no
reason, of course). It was Friday now and folks would be starting
to show up for the week-end. When it was our turn I informed the
young lady that we had arrived late the previous evening and were
occupying site #65 in Area C. "Oh, those
are all reserved," she said, "You'll have find another
spot." "Here's you're $13.50 tag for the spot you're
in. Put it on the post at #65 and when you find another spot come
back and I'll get you another tag."
Hmm. With that news snapping amongst the dendrites
Carole brought a package of bacon to me, smiling. She
thought she'd cheer me up, as I was a bit disappointed about the Coon
raid. In an emotional monotone I said " ugh, I don't want to
bother with that now." I think I hurt her
feelings a bit. :'( Poor thing. To her it was a stroke of
good luck to have found more bacon so conveniently. She thought
I'd be delighted too, but I was nervous about trying to find a
suitable camp site before the rush started and at the same time still
quite disrespectful of Raccoons. When I saw her spirit droop, I
realized the error of my ways and attempted to ameliorate my abruptness
with the promise to venture to a store for more supplies after we'd
found a site.
Now
my 
It
was already starting to warm a bit when we set off for our hiking
adventure. We selected the "Falls Branch Trail, the shortest
at two miles. The trail began with a brief stroll through the
woods. We were then met with the first of several neat little
wooden bridges. As we snaked our way up the first leg of the
trail, we crossed each new bridge in a wonderfully new verdure of
fern and ivy amid oaks, hickory's and stone. The
little creek we kept crossing as we wound our way was mostly dry - Stone
Canyon Creek. A pool here and there. When we reached the top
of the creek the trail cut back and graded up the slope - sideways, like
roads that snake up mountains. Having increased our elevation
quite a bit, we now could peer down upon the way we had just
traveled. It was time for a rest. We found an obliging rocky
out-cropping and decided to delay there a bit to let some rather vocal
juveniles pass by. We had heard them approaching for some time. .
. Turns out there was a fair amount of traffic on the
trail that morning.
Eventually
we wound our way up and over the 500 foot contour, crossing a small
meadow and down into another little creek - Falls Branch. It was
wonderful to be in the morning woods. The angle of the
sunlight brushed the pale green of the leaves such that they became
incandescent. A mild breeze renewing whatever may have been stale
in the air. All was crisp. We were now in
decent. Falls Branch to our right. It too was mostly
dry. In any event, there weren't any "Falls" to see that
day. We saw and heard and felt many other wonderful things.
Some of the under brush sported purple
berries that shown in the sun a spectacular shade. We hung over a
small precipice to snap this picture - just above what we thought was
the place where the "Falls' were supposed to be.
Actually I think that there were supposed to be falls all along
this creek. Since we didn't know what we were missing, the whole hike
was marvelous just the same. As we continued, the creek to our
right, we eventually came back to the
Lake, following it's shore north and west back to where we
started. We felt we had accomplished something. Though we
were not the oldest codgers on the trail by far, we certainly were not
accustomed to it. And that had it's benefits. We had
the opportunity to sit, admiring as we rested what was passed unnoticed
by more athletic souls. Yet, like they, we were equally
renewed :) Back at camp: a brief snack, a little more
water, and another of our nature naps. . .