Kevin in the Ozarks

August 2008

Wednesday through Sunday morn:

Wednesday morning in late August I left Tulsa on the nasty-but-quick interstate route headed east for Springfield, MO where I met up with Chad before driving south to his tiny, 3-story, A-framed house on a bluff overlooking a small cove and some woods on Table Rock Lake. I was in an excellent mood, as this was the first time I've been to the Ozarks in a year-an excessive length of time for an outdoor-enthusiast to be away from his hometown backyard. The characteristic celebratory beer consumption, lake swimming, and shenanigans ensued that night and the following day.

Friday morning we left Table Rock with the addition of Dan from Springfield and Daniel from Columbia, MO in a carabus (multiple VW buses traveling in a group) and dropped down south to Eureka Springs, Arkansas for two days of fun with friends from all over the area and to enjoy one of the largest-possibly the best-VW shows in the lower Midwest.

Of course, there were the same shenanigans (different location) with the addition of many more good folks out to have a good time. Entertainment included ripping around on the cooler scooter, an electric powered, three-wheeled speedy beer cooler with a terrible turning radius-a recipe for fun!, visiting old downtown Eureka Springs, swimming in the host hotel pool, beer, more beer, and (possibly a little too much) more beer.

John Lago (a.k.a. Johnny Bock)

John Lago made an appearance at this year's Eureka Springs with the addition of his new book, "The Reference Point". John is one of those old-school backroadbusers, a seasoned expert with over 40 years experience piloting the same bus all over the continental U.S., Canada, and Alaska. John drove the Alaskan highway many times back when it was part of a rough route between the U.S. and Alaska; he's spent months-on-end parked on iced over lakes, fishing through his custom built hatch in the floor of his bus while warming himself with his wood fired stove, has traveled around the U.S. as a tramp by train, built a log cabin up in Yukon territory (Canada), and not surprisingly has many adventures to tell (read "A Bus will take you there" and "The Reference Point"). This man is quite the character and if you have the chance to lend him your ear, hand him a brewsky and sit back and enjoy the ride!



Sunday through Monday night:

Early Sunday morning it occurred to me that the idea I had been mulling over in my mind of getting away from the crowds and even my good friends to spend some quality time continuing my search for remote bus camping and a bit of adventure in the Ozarks, was a good idea indeed, and tugged at me so hard that I felt it must be pursued at no delay. With a quick round of "goodbye's" I left Lake Leatherwood and escaped off in to the Ozark National Forest as a round-about route back to Tulsa, OK, my temp location of residence. What followed were two days and one night of the wildest section of the Ozarks I have experienced to date!

I'll spare the details of route since I simply wandered the general direction I intended to go with a poorly scaled and sparsely detailed Arkansas state map and my suitable "sense of direction". I often think this fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pant's method is may be the best way to go about backroadbusing; sometimes it leaves you feeling a little disappointed, other times it's highly fulfilling, often it's a mixture of both; regardless, it sets the mood for unexpected adventure. This particular trip turned out to be overwhelmingly satisfying, with unspoiled beauty, peace, and solitude around nearly every bend in the road.

I do want to touch upon two experiences I had, the first of which is upsetting, and is something I run in to all-too-often in the Ozarks: trash. It seems that many folks don't realize the negative impact they have in primitive areas when they choose not to pack their trash out. What happened to the "leave no trace" concept? When you leave piles of trash in a pristine place that's the first thing the next person sees upon arrival; like a sore thumb it's hard to ignore.

When I arrived at my Sunday night camp spot around noon, a local woman was there with her two kids, which were thrashing around in the shallow creek enjoying themselves, doing what kids do. The woman was friendly enough and we talked for a little while before I headed down the creek for a pleasant walk with the pugs and to search for an acceptable swimming hole. The creek was low and so I did not find a deep pool to wade in, but when I got back to I did find the mark she and her kids (and possibly others before her) had left in and around the creek: fresh cigarette butts, Miller Lite cans, and a stash of dirty diapers. While cursing her, I cleaned most of the mess up, choosing to flick the filthy diapers up away from the creek rather than transport them back in my bus, where I had nowhere to stash them. It baffles me how it did not bother her that her kids were wading in rank shit and piss that were leaching out of the dirty diapers deposited on the upstream bank, or that it may harm other unsuspecting swimmers, wildlife, or the quality of the stream itself!

Other evidence of human disrespect was discovered without effort near another creek and campsite I visited the following day. It's interesting to note that the beer of choice to be left behind after the liquid is consumed, is Miller Lite. Maybe all it takes is one slob to ruin the beauty of an area for everyone else? For the sake of the enjoyment of future campers, please pack your trash out! It's as easy as packing it in.

The second thing I wanted to mention was a really encouraging experience that occurred while spending Monday alone-with the exception of my pugs, which happened when I turned down a random side road in the forest, around a bend and down a hill: there stood in front of me a balding man in a "Nebraska Cornhuskers" shirt next to his Ford pickup truck. He looked as startled as I must have looked, for this was the first person I'd seen all day, and the first he had seen all week, and only the second he had seen at that spot in the road during his multi-month, seven-day-a-week stay in the forest. The conversation started with an exchange of "Hellos", followed by the question "What are you doing out here?", and quickly developed into a couple hour long conversation which only ended when I insisted that I had to move on. The topics of conversation ranged from philosophical ideas on lifestyle, our travels, ATVs, blatant destruction of the forest, hunting season, trash, forest management, wildlife sightings, our rigs, getting stuck, and so forth. It's not every day you run into someone in the Ozark woods who you can have a lengthy, fascinating, and pleasant conversation with.

Despite the occasional deposit of trash by some disrespectful campers, the Ozark National Forest was much more wild, primitive, and exciting than any of the Mark Twain National Forest sections I have visited in the past. I will certainly be back for more ONF in the future and hope to get a tour of the Quachita National Forest in real soon. The QNF is a much larger section of forest south of the ONF, that covers portions of Southeastern Oklahoma and West-central Arkansas.

Readers, please enjoy the pictures. Full Gallery Here

Kevin McLeod 08/26/08



... and now for something completely different: Licking (View Fullscreen)

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