Winter Snapshots
March 19, 2008
I love to hop in the truck and go exploring new areas along state highways and
county roads. Nowadays I've usually already viewed the area on topo maps or
Google Earth and I'm curious to see it in person. Such was the case on
Saturday, December 8. According to the calendar, Winter was still two weeks
away, but the trees and clouds said otherwise.
I headed down I-40 to Clarksville, then headed north up Highway 21. As I
ascended from the river valley I found the Boston Mountains socked in under
heavy fog. I got on dirt roads at Salus and drove down the mountain to the
Walnut community. I'd taken some wrong turns and wasn't even on the correct
road, which turned out to be a blessing because I crossed the Big Piney at a
point that I was most curious about. According to the topo maps it was a
possible access point for a hike downstream, though in actuality I'm not so
sure because there were some no trespassing signs in the area. There was a neat
footbridge across the creek.
I headed north up the mountain toward Highway 16, and once there turned down the
road to find the parking area for Dismal Hollow. Then I went by the parking
area for Home Valley Bluff, though it was so foggy I could hardly make out
anything.
Next I took the dirt road down the mountain toward Limestone. There were some
interesting bluffs and overhangs right next to the road, and in the same area
there were two hairpin turns with streams to the east that looked promising for
waterfalls. Down in the valley near Limestone I passed by the Big Piney again
at a pretty spot with a small bluff structure.
Then I (unwisely I might add!) took a forest service road that follows the Big
Piney south toward Highway 123. There was a 3.5 mile stretch that was in
terrible condition and I was quite nervous. But thankfully that road merged
with a much better road and I and my truck survived. The entire stretch of road
along the Big Piney though was a scenic wonder. Just gorgeous... what little I
could make out through the fog and fading light. Huge boulders and Beech trees
everywhere.. the creek was full of emerald pools.
We added a new member to the family Christmas Eve, a Australian Shepherd and
Border Collie mix named Emmy. We were able to hide her in a gift-wrapped box and surprise the boys. It had
taken some serious pestering from Stacey for me to give in; after we lost
Cricket earlier in the year I swore we wouldn't have another dog. After
Christmas dinner we set Emmy up on the bar with a backdrop of black cloth and I
took her portrait.
It wasn’t long before I was calling her Daddy’s little girl!
I managed to catch a really nice sunset (pictured at the top of this page) on
Saturday afternoon, January 12. Northwest Arkansas was covered in rain clouds
all afternoon. For some reason I checked the weather satellite image online
before leaving work, and noticed the edge of the cloud cover was coming our
way. Hoping the setting sun might shine through an opening and light up the
undersides of the clouds, I rushed home to grab my camera then headed to Lee
Creek Park.
I started work early Sunday, February 2 and finished in time to go for an
afternoon drive. By the time it got dark I really thought I'd wind up being
stuck in my truck overnight somewhere along Fly Gap road. My drive was from Van
Buren to Locke to Dockery's Gap then through Bidville. I was hoping to take in
some views of the mountains in the late afternoon sun. Temperatures were very
warm for this time of year, and the air was uncommonly hazy. I thought it was
smoke... thought the forest service must be doing some burning.
Just past Bidville was a view of a neat bluff jutting out from the side of the
mountain. I parked along the hairpin curve on Parker Mountain and walked south
along the mountaintop looking for possible overlooks, but found nothing really
outstanding. I was back in the truck driving east when the sun went down, and
there was a long period where it was hard to see because it wasn't dark enough
for the headlights to do any good, yet it was too dark to see clearly. And the haze wasn't helping matters
But the real danger was that the roads were muddier than I've ever seen them. I
think the area had gotten a lot of snow recently, and the snow just sat there
on the roads and softened them up. The truck was sliding all over the road, and
in addition to the mud, the road was really rough. Once it got completely dark
a heavy fog rolled in. I thought it surely had to be smoke, so I rolled down
the window and took a big sniff, but nope, it was fog. Luckily there never was
much of a ditch on the left side, and I just kept my left wheels on the outside
of the road where it was dryer and managed to keep going.
Not only was I nervous that I'd get stuck, I wasn't totally sure I was even on
the correct road. I'd never come in to that area from the west, I didn't have
any spots marked with my GPS, and the road was much narrower than I remembered. Finally a came to a spot I had
marked on my GPS and knew I was on Fly Gap Road. But the anxiety wasn't over.
Up on the ridge northwest of Cove Creek, the fog was so thick I could only see
about 10 feet in front of me. The natural direction of the road caused me to
begin leaving Fly Gap road and go right onto the forest service road that runs
along Whiting Mountain. I've never been down that road and didn't know what
kind of shape it was in, so I managed to back up and continue along Fly Gap
road. But that little episode was harder than it sounds. There were no road
signs anywhere, and visibility was so bad that I wasn't totally sure of
anything. I was so very relieved when I finally got to Highway 23!
Once again Mount Magazine proved to be a good destination for snowy landscapes.
The day after the March 7 snowfall event, I was able to go into work later than
usual since it was a Saturday. I got up at 4 a.m. with intentions of catching
the sunrise from Bear Head Bluff, but it seems nothing went right. It was
supposed to be an easy half-mille hike in, yet after trudging through 15 inches
of snow (more than I'd ever seen) for 100 yards I was stopping to catch my
breath and realizing I'd never make it.
Plan B was for nearby Sunrise Rock. Once the trail left an old road and headed
through the woods, the drifts were over my knees. Ironically Sunrise Rock was
void of the snow I was counting on for the picture I had in mind. The sunrise
was a dud too.
But when the sun cleared the clouds near the horizon, it lit up the tops of the
trees on the other side of the hollow. I grabbed my tripod to set up a shot,
but water in two of the legs had frozen solid in the 12 degree air and would
not extend. I managed to find a spot with a clear view and space for me to sit,
and I got a few photos.
I had quite the little adventure the morning of Wednesday, March 19, though I
didn't get a single photo. As far as rainfall events go, the region had been
hit by The Big One the day and evening before. Rainfall totals were at least 6
to 8 inches everywhere, with some places seeing up to 15 inches.
I decided to make a run up to Mount Magazine, to see how Drippings Springs
Cascade looked from a nearby bluff. I'd vowed to make that trip ever since I
saw the amazing cascade from below last winter. The hike in was 1.2 miles in the dark, through howling winds and light rain
stinging me in the face. The terrain is very flat up top, there was standing
water everywhere, and it was foggy.
When I got to the edge of the bluff, the fog was so thick I couldn't see the
cascade at all. So I turned around and headed back for the truck ( I had to be
at work at 10 for a conference call). On the hike back, the rain got a little
heavier and was mixed with heavy clumps of snow. My pants and boots were soaked
by the time I got to the truck.
