Spring in the Ozarks

      This likely being my final spring semester I felt it necessary to go out and do something for spring break. My first thought was to try and go camping somewhere and when a couple of my roommates showed interest in joining me I got started researching all of our options. March in Minnesota is cold and I think we were all looking for a little bit more adventure. We considered going out West to places such as Yellowstone but the cost and time necessary to travel made it quite impossible. We looked at the Black Hills and the Badlands as possibilities but South Dakota's ban on campfires on public lands made it hard to imagine going there. We finally decided to head South to Missouri or Arkansas. Both states have millions of acres of National Forest land on which most forms of recreation are free of charge. After weighing our options we decided to head for a cheap campsite in the heart of the Ozark National Forest in Northern Arkansas.

        We drove down during the night and arrived at the campsite about an hour before sunrise. We slept in the car as we waited for the sun to appear. Once there was plenty of light and we assumed most of the other campers would be awake, we started to set up camp. There were three of us, each of us with our own tent. We arranged a tarp over the wooden table, set up our folding chairs and then attempted to find out what in the world we are going to do. This trip was a spur of the moment idea. We came down prepared with equipment but not with a plan of how we were going to spend our time. As we drove back from town picking up some firewood we drove by the Forest Service office and we stopped in to get some ideas. The woman at the desk in her khaki shirt and pants and thick, southern drawl told us of a hike with stunning views.

        After quite a long drive on winding paved roads that turned slick, dark red and muddy we reached a parking lot with dozens of cars. I was amazed to see so many vehicles seemingly so far away from any other towns. The three of us began our hike on the well-worn path, passing groups of college kids, couples and families. There was little sign of spring yet, some bushes had began to bud and some grasses were green but the trees were absent of leaves. The mix of overcast sky with the brown leaves on the ground and limbs of trees did not make the landscape appear particularly inviting. After continuing down the path for a mile or so we crossed a stream that babbled across boulders and then fell off a series of cliffs. With a camera in hand, a tripod strapped to my backpack and my friends knowledge of photography we began taking a number of pictures experimenting in order to change the look of the stream in each photo.

         As we began to climb back to the top to start hiking again, I decided to take a detour. I saw that their was another platform of rock with some grass and trees further down the face of the bluff. The problem was that the only way to reach it from my vantage point was to shuffle across the ledge as it narrowed from several feet wide to a mere four inches. I have always loved testing my ability to find firm rocks and footholds to trust at the risk of falling down, in this case at least 30 feet (and yet I have no desire to go rock climbing). And so, I started my way across to the other side but something happened halfway across. I was feeling comfortable, making sure I had sturdy places to set my feet  and other places to grab the cliff face with my hands. but at one point, I suddenly felt top-heavy. I could feel my body weight shifting backwards, I reached for the limestone in front of me, feeling flakes coming off of it. Somehow I was able to grasp some piece of rock and stabilize myself but now I had adrenaline flowing throughout my body. I was not out of the dark yet and I needed to be able to control myself until I found a place to rest. I quickly made my way to the other platform and regained my composure. I heard someone once propose the idea that because of the society we live in we encounter fewer risks within our lives, yet we still unknowingly desire to have the same overall risk as our forefathers. I can see how this could be true and how it manifests itself in a variety of ways. For me, I enjoy going hunting with deadly weapons, going camping in sub-zero temperatures without the comforts of my home, walking along cliffs without any railings or gear to prevent me from falling to the bottom. Risk is an interesting topic and I have come to believe that there is a healthy amount that each one of us needs in our lives.

         Continuing down the path that bordered the bluff's edge, we suddenly found what everyone was looking for. A large rock formation jutted out 20 or so feet beyond the cliff. We walked out, sat down and looked over the valley full of trees that appeared dead, but knowing that within a month or so the landscape would be changed completely, bursting in color and new life. We spent the next couple of days cooking this winter's deer steaks and other foods over an open fire, exploring new areas and enjoying the warmer, if not warm, weather of the South, content simply with His Creation and each other's company in a new and exciting place.