Life of a Woodsy-What-Not

After deserting Gracie in KY, I headed down to AR, where I prepared to head to the Ozarks to go backpacking & do other, you know…wilderness-ey things. Since Whitney makes a pretty decent side-kick, I decided to bring her along. Actually, I brought her because she brought the food which is somewhat…well…essential for surviving. We packed up everything we would need, & drove to the trailhead just in time to meet up with a nice thunderstorm. Now, I have experimented with various methods dealing with keeping all things dry, the best of which is DON’T GO TO THE WILDERNESS, however anything short of that is not guaranteed to keep anything dry. In fact, if you go backpacking with me, there is a guarantee that you will be wet, one way or another. 

Anyways, seeing as the weather was warm, the rain really didn’t bother us, we donned packs & headed down the trail, which had transformed into a full-fledged creek. We gave big, happy smiles to the macho dudes we passed who were headed the other direction toward the comfort of their car with “You people are crazy!” looks on their faces.  What can I say; nobody has ever accused me of being sane.  

Instead of heading to our previous base camp spot to set up my amazing, high-end, leaky, picked-up-for-free-because-someone-ditched-it tent, we decided to trek up a different creek to where there is a rock overhang that creates a dry spot. The dry spot we found, the dry wood we had stock-piled we did not find. Attention to whoever stole the wood: I will catch you. And when I do, I will dunk you in water & then force-feed you peanut butter & jelly and cold ramen noodles. For a week. Oh, and then I will turn you over to Whitney.

Of course, the storm did not pass quickly; it rained for a couple days. Enough, in fact, for the water to work its way down through our ceiling & turn our dry spot into a soaking wet, constantly dripping cave. It was depressing.  It did not take long for all of our gear and clothes to range from moderately damp to just-pulled-out-of-a-swimming-pool wet. Did I mention it was depressing?

And then one morning, we woke up & it had stopped raining. Actually, I didn’t notice at first because our “cave” was still dripping, but it was true. The sun was shining. We packed up all our water-logged gear & moved camp. I am convinced my pack alone weighed 247 pounds. At least. After spreading the stuff out to dry in a sunny spot, I grabbed an empty pack & made a food run to the vehicle. The hike out & back was rather uneventful except for the horde of bloodsucking mosquitoes. They were really quite bad.

When I returned, Whitney told me about a group of very lost Muslim city dudes who stumbled into our camp & entertained her for about an hour by trying to convert her to Islam. After all, it is the religion with all the answers, don’t you know? I am personally not too wild about dying & going to heaven where I can be eternally pregnant. Nah, not really that appealing.  Anyways...the Muslims were unsuccessful at getting Whitney to walk the straight & narrow, but she was able to point them down the right trail so they could (hopefully) reach their destination.  

The weather stayed decent for the rest of the trip, and the tent was stocked for a while with oatmeal, ramen &…*surprise*…peanut butter & jelly. Yay. No, really, I like peanut butter & jelly, it’s just, well when you eat it every day for three weeks, it can get old. We also brought pancake mix, which we spilled one night. I say “we spilled” because I don’t remember who was responsible, and if I blame it on Whitney, she might take issue with that. Either way, it spilled and I discovered that it tasted rather good, and proceeded to eat the uncontaminated stuff. Whitney called it PCB (short for pancake batter) and accused me of snorting it. We discussed how much harder the Muslims would pray for our souls if they could see us with a pile of white powder in our tent. For the record, scrambled pancakes over a fire are the best ever…as long as they aren’t burnt. Well, basically, as long as I don’t help make them.  

We also brought instant pistachio pudding, which is made by just adding milk. Well, there is no milk in the wilderness, so we decided to experiment & see if it would set up with just water. It did not. It just stayed in syrup form & looked very similar to anti-freeze. Not being ones to let anything with sugar in it go to waste, we drank it & I must add, stayed warm all night. For the record, it tasted much better than antifreeze. Grandma, I know you’re reading this, don’t ask how I know this.

Besides experimenting with food, we spent our time taking day hikes, exploring new territory, swimming in the creek, and waging a constant battle with the all-too-friendly local residents, i.e. the mosquitoes & ticks. Needless to say, “Ticks” by Brad Paisley was constantly playing in my head.  

Gracie planned to come join the madness, so we made our next food run to coincide with her arrival. We hiked out & while waiting for her to arrive, found a rather large wild strawberry patch. It was quite amazing.  She finally showed up, having ridden all over creation looking for the trailhead, poor soul. She brought Doritos, Oreos, and Mountain Dew. Did I ever mention she’s awesome? Probably not & I will probably never admit it again on record, so there it is.

One day, I took Gracie to see the 200’ waterfall at Hemmed-In Hollow. By the way, if you are interested in seeing it & need a guide, I am for hire. Remember, nobody loves you…and your money… more than me. Anyways, we happened to go on a Saturday, which meant that everyone and their neighbor’s dog had decided to go too. The trail goes by the Buffalo River & it was apparent that everyone else & their neighbor were floating the river. Or rather, attempting to float, some of them were actively sinking. We passed lots of people coming from the falls who smiled & tried to encourage us by telling us we were close. “Yes, dumb heads, I know.” But, this was the South & you don’t actually tell people that. You just think it while you smile & nod.

We arrived at the fall to discover several people ooohhhing & aaaahhhhing & taking pictures, so we climbed up the hollow behind the fall & sat there doing random stuff in the background of the people’s pictures. Poor souls. When all the people had left, we paid the water a visit…with more or less clothes on. By the time we were ready to hike back, our drinking water was almost gone & Gracie was envying all the hikers carrying ice-cold Cokes. We decided to take a different route back & hike along the river in hopes of bumming free drinks off of innocent paddlers. Upon arriving at the river, we discovered a temporarily abandoned canoe and a cooler containing our choice of water, coke, or beer. However, since I still pretend to retain my morals, and it’s much more fun to talk people out of stuff than to just pick it up for free, we passed on. Next stop, a relatively venerable looking man and male offspring sipping beer and sitting on a rock. We struck up a conversation & discovered that they had nothing to offer us, so we left. Of course, we assured them that we were really quite fine & it is perfectly normal for us to not know the date and hike around all day with no water left.

On up the river, we happened upon a group of drunk people in beached canoes playing a drinking game, so we stopped & watched. A very drunk woman attempted to splash a drunk man & ended up hitting Gracie instead. The man insisted Gracie splash her back, but instead she asked for drinks. The man in charge of the cooler just sat there in a stupor & shrugged his shoulders, so we were on our way with free drinks, which we were very sedate about until we were out of sight, where we wildly celebrated our success.

We went back to the river later with Whitney to go cliff jumping. Gracie & I sat at the top and chickened for a good half hour, discussing how the water did not look deep enough & the river bottom was solid rock. Meanwhile, Whitney cleaned out the wild blueberry patch and climbed on the rocks. Finally, Gracie mentioned that the first one off would have bragging rights, and I was off in no time flat. The water was plenty deep and we laughed at how long we had sat there.

One afternoon, Gracie was talking about food she was craving. Bad plan. We were both in the mood for pizza, and since I am so easily talked into doing crazy things, I decided to go get some. First, I had to hike out; it is only 2-3 miles out to the trailhead, but it is a very steep UPHILL the whole way. I was making great progress until suddenly my stomach decided it hated my guts. Technically, I suppose my stomach is part of my guts, but either way, it was not impressed with life. I decided there would be no pizza & just sat there on the trail. But as fast as it came, it left & I made another attempt at hiking out. I reached the vehicle & drove to the nearest town big enough to have a pizza shop. I thought it was about ten miles, but it turned out to be twenty, of course. By the time I pulled into town, it was 8:00 & the two pizza shops were closed. Not to be outdone, I found a gas station that made fresh pizza & ordered three. The pizza maker gave me odd looks, apparently he hadn’t seen many people who just spent 2 ½ weeks in the wilderness and are now desperately trying to get a pizza fix.

By the time the pizzas were made & I drove back, it was pitch dark. I momentarily contemplated eating all the pizza myself on the spot, but then I envisioned myself being thrown out of the tent & fed to the mosquitoes later that night. I put the liter of coke I bought in my backpack, stuck a headlamp on my head, grabbed the three pizza boxes in my arms & headed down the trail as fast as the terrain would let me. I came upon a doe who startled at first, then followed me. Apparently it had never seen pizza delivery in the middle of the night in the wilderness. I finally made it to camp, with the pizza still intact I might add, and found Whitney & Gracie completely bored & starving.

Oh, and just so you know, if I ever do anything crazy for you, I will hold it over your head for the rest of your life. Well… ok…for at least a couple of days.