The Creek Was Angry That Day, My Friends …
… like an old man trying to send back soup in a deli.
I had been to Longpool Falls in Pope County north of Russellville back in January, but I didn’t get any photos worth looking at. So when a huge deluge hit that part of the state on Friday I decided to go back and see it when it had something to show. When I got up at 7:30 a.m. Saturday the rain had made it to Little Rock, but it was still raining in Pope County. I drove through torrential rain all the way there and the rain the didn’t stop. The top photo is a two-frame panorama of Longpool Falls and the ravine downstream.
Can’t Beat A Rainy Day For A Good Hike
When I woke up at 7:30 a.m. Sunday, the sky was clearing after a night of off and on rain and I was so bummed I almost just went back to sleep. I hadn’t gone to sleep until around 4 a.m., which made actually getting up that much harder. (I think I’ve developed insomnia.) Sunny skies spell poor conditions for shooting waterfalls. You need the even, reduced light of overcast skies to make that silky water effect.
But, as we will see, Lady Fortune is a fickle traveling companion.
Another Waterfall Trek
Copperhead Falls seen from the top.
This past weekend found me making yet another journey to our summer home in Northwest Arkansas to deal with the aftermath of the Epic Ice Storm of 2009. Thankfully, I didn’t have to do any manual labor this time. I just paid a man I hired over the over phone to climb up in our once magnificent shade trees and cut down the hanging limbs. I realize hiring people over the phone to perform work the results of which you won’t see for a week is fraught with hazard but it worked out well this time.
On my way back to Little Rock, I detoured over to the Buffalo River to hike Indian Creek and see Copperhead Falls and Tunnel Cave Falls. The hike is billed as a dangerous one, but I found it less hazardous than the hike to the slot canyon on Shop Creek I took a few weeks ago. Indian Creek is actually the next drainage over from Shop Creek. An ambitious hiker could do both in one day if he started early enough.
Another Wasted Saturday
I set out Saturday for the third weekend in a row looking for some fabulous fall foliage. I failed. In the hope that the leaves down south were still in peak form, I headed down to the Cossatot Falls State Park. As I headed down I-540, I could see the leaves in Northwest Arkansas were about done. I was hoping the foliage would get better the farther south I traveled on Highway 71. I was disappointed. Plus, the area I went to might not be the best for fall color anyway. The area is mostly timber company land planted in pine trees. The little swirly parts in the photo become raging whitewater holes when the river comes blasting through after heavy rains. The river is typically low in the fall. On Saturday, you could have easily waded across without a problem. Cossatot is supposedly an Indian word that means skull crusher. They say this is the most challenging whitewater in Arkansas.
Trying To Reason With Hurricane Season
Hurricane Ike dumped a bunch of water overnight Saturday so I set out about 9 a.m. to look for some rare September waterfall action. I planned to hit Murray and Senyard Falls off the Pig Trail north of Cass and then maybe check out the cascades below Lake Sequoyah on my way back home.
Bloop!
Abby and I had the day to ourselves yesterday, so we went for a little walk down to the creek to see how high the water was after the big rain. We had to walk on the side of the busy road and every time a car passed Abby would yell, “That’s the fastest car I’ve ever seen!”
As she was throwing rocks in the water she would yell “bloop!” after the splash. One particularly big rock caused a particularly big splash that got her arm wet. She said, “It blooped all over my arm, Daddy.”
The Yampa at 23,000 cfs
Dale in Warm Springs rapid.
When I saw the gaping maw of the hole near the bottom of Warm Springs rapid, it occurred to me that I might be better off not being in any boat that had even a slight chance of going in there.
When the two park rangers recommended we portage two of the boats, watching the carnage from the shore became even more attractive.
When the second boat down the rapid flipped in the hole and the upside-down raft and its captain disappeared around the bend, I knew I would be walking around the beast.
It was day three of rafting the Yampa River in northwestern Colorado. I had taken a brief swim in the chilly, brown water the day before and didn’t want to repeat that experience.
We launched from Deerlodge Park on the eastern tip of Dinosaur National Monument into a river barely contained in its banks. The silty water was the color of heavily creamed coffee and carried trash, lumber, brush, and whole trees even. And dead animals: goats, cows, deer, etc. We had 18 people in 8 boats and would be out five days and four nights, May 21-25.
We spent a day and half in the Deerlodge campground rigging boats and running the shuttle under glorious skies and temperatures in the 70s and 80s. We left the comfy weather and luxurious pit toilets behind when we hit the river.
Backtalk