I didn’t have classes on Thursday, so Abby stayed home from school, too. We went out exploring just like in the old days when I was a full-on stay-at-home dad or STAHD. We headed down to the river market to see how the fish were getting along at the Witt Stephens Jr. Central Arkansas Nature Center.
If I never accomplish anything else in life I can always say that I was the first person at Cedar Falls in Petit Jean State Park on October 10, 2009. It rained heavily across the Ozarks and Central Arkansas on Thursday night and Friday, so I knew the waterfalls would be running for a few days. The trouble was that Saturday was supposed to dawn with clear skies, and bright sun is no good for waterfall pictures. You need the muted light of cloudy skies to get good photos. I figured if I got out there before the sun got very high, I could do some shooting before things got too bright. Problem number two was that I’d have to go somewhere close by if I was going to be there at sunrise. The only real waterfall close enough for me to get to that early is Cedar Falls. I got up at 5:30 a.m. and got to the trail head a little after 7. And as luck would have it, it stayed cloudy, dark and gloomy all day. The top photo is a panorama made from six blended and merged photos.
Abby decided she wanted a Halloween pumpkin, so rather than just picking one up at Kroger, we decided to go in for pumpkin getting experience. We headed out to Garner Homestead Family Farm in deepest Garland County. The Web site promised a petting zoo, a corn maze, hayrides and a pumpkin field. This place has pretty good PR, but the actual experience is a bit of a letdown.
The whole fam damily went to our summer home in Northwest Arkansas this weekend to do a little yard work and go to Bikes, Blues and BBQ in Fayetteville. We parked on the University of Arkansas campus and headed down to Dickson Street. On the way we stopped to show Abby where Gramps’ name is carved into the Senior Walk. She pointed out all the D’s in his name.
We didn’t stay long at BB&BBQ. It’s the exact same thing every year. Same vendors, same BBQ providers, etc. If you aren’t into motorcycles, then attending once ought to hold you for awhile. Having said that, it does make for some great people watching. You see a lot of bare midriffs that, for the good of mankind, should never see the light of day. We stayed just long enough to eat some exorbitantly priced and poorly cooked food, and I didn’t shoot many pictures. I wasn’t well, suffering from some kind of parasite or virus or something.
It appears the old saw “time and tide waits for no man” is actually true. As recently as last month I thought it wouldn’t happen, but I actually turned 40 years old. I’m dealing with it, but it’s going to take some time. To commemorate the august occasion, Gina booked a couple nights at Lookout Point Lakeside Inn, a nice B&B in Hot Springs.
Accommodation review: Nestled on the shore of Lake Hamilton, Lakeside Inn provides the comforts of a luxury hotel in a relaxed, unpretentious atmosphere. Each of the rooms is named after a town in Arkansas. The owners picked the names to convey relaxation and a sense of country life. (They eschewed my personal favorites: Bald Knob, Oil Trough, and Blue Ball.) My companion and I stayed in Evening Shade. The king-size bed was draped with super-soft sheets (Egyptian cotton perhaps) and the bathroom contained a glorious two-headed shower. Other amenities included a whirlpool tub, a separate toilet room and a fainting couch. Large windows provided a view of the lake. (I think all the rooms have lake views.) Couple of weird things: the television was tiny and we had to sign some kind of contract promising we wouldn’t smoke on the property under penalty of $500. Soft drinks, ice and breakfast are included in the rather pricey accommodations. We opted to sleep both Saturday and Sunday mornings in lieu of having breakfast.
When the school year started, Abby began learning about letters. They did B’s last week. They did A the week before. Now when we’re driving around or grocery shopping or whatever, Abby points out all the A’s and B’s she finds. I think it’s cute.
When did train cars become graffiti canvasses? I can remember when train cars had no graffiti at all and now there’s not a car on rails without the artwork. Some of it is interesting. Like this executioner I found on a car sitting on a siding near our summer home in Northwest Arkansas.
I found myself with a little free time Saturday and since I haven’t gotten a lot of chances to use my ultra-wide-angle lens, I went looking for something to shoot. I eventually ended up at the old bridge over the Maumelle River on an abandoned stretch of Arkansas Highway 300 in Pinnacle Mountain State Park. This bridge is popular with local photographers and rightly so. It’s old and rusty and corroded and interesting.
Arkansas has a split personality. High country and forest lie in the north and west and to the south and east it’s as flat as Kansas. Little Rock sits right on the dividing line. You can drive 30 minutes in one direction and climb a mountain; or drive 30 minutes in the opposite direction and see the curvature of the earth. On Saturday, Abby, Gina, Aunt Jodie and I loaded up and headed to the flat lands, where row-crop agriculture dominates.
On an earlier jaunt I had discovered a country road lined on either side with huge walnut trees that formed a leafy tunnel for a mile or so. We headed back there because I wanted to get a photo looking down the road in some nice afternoon light. That photo idea was a bust. It was still too early in the afternoon and the light was too harsh. We stopped near what looked like an old sharecropper shack to let Abby get out and play in the dirt. A man in a snazzy BMW showed up directly and told us we were on the end of his crop-duster landing strip and needed to move along. So we did.
