Meador Manor

May 18, 2012

Roaring River (click image for slideshow)

Another Friday off for an unused snow day = another day hike. The coolest place within a day’s round trip was the childhood source of my love for day hikes: Roaring River State Park in Missouri. So by 11 a.m. I was in the lobby of the Emory Melton Inn perched above the park and enjoying the view along with a French Dip in the restaurant. I then parked at the store and began my 7.6 mile hike with a stroll to the hatchery, passing the fisherfolk on the riverside along the way. I admired some vetch and the closed section of the mossy spring pool falls. The open pools at the hatchery were teeming with trout, and the usual bigger trout were to be found in the spring pool. The camera’s GPS had finally locked in, so it was time to hit the trails.

Deer Leap Trail

Deer Leap Trail

I climbed up the hillside on Deer Leap Trail along carved bluffs and huge stone steps laid by the CCC boys. The trail’s many steps were quite a challenge when I was a tot, but after hiking 300 miles a year as of late, they are a breeze. At the top I posed at the hatchery overlook, with a bird flying overhead in one shot. Youngsters below were busy feeding the fish in the big pool, having already enjoyed the thrashing feeding frenzies at the strip pools.

Firetower Trail

Firetower Trail

I backtracked past the upper spring to the Firetower trailhead and ascended to follow the bluffside trail to the fork, where instead of heading across the knob to the old tower, as I’ve done on the last few visits, I instead headed along the narrow high ridge toward the former CCC kitchen, now the nature center. There was some trailside color as I walked along the fairly level ridge before the long and sometimes steep descent, with a Mourning Cloak butterfly alighting on the trail ahead of me. I passed the bluff, where a tree had fallen, and continued the descent toward the nature center.

Riverside Trails

Riverside Trails

I crossed what was once Bass Lake over to the river, clambering out on some rocks for a shot downstream. I followed the riverside trail downstream, a peaceful walk with only a few fly fisherfolk. I passed the remains of the old Bass Lake dam and headed east along the newer connector trail linking the campground to the far trailhead of the Firetower Trail.

Throughout this walk along the north bank of the river, I herded three huge blue herons ahead of me down the river, with them always careful to stay out of camera range. I passed a big tree which had snapped and at the end of my walk, where a short gravel road runs out from Highway F to the river, a butterfly collection awaited me. I managed to catch one in flight with the camera. A sulphur butterfly tried to pose as a leaf, but I was not fooled. I rested by the river a bit and then retraced my steps past the bluff.

Eagle’s Nest Trail

Eagle’s Nest Trail

I then took the low bridge across the river to the sewage irrigation area. The pretty field here is well fertilized! You can’t smell anything, but you definitely don’t want to hike through here, especially when the big sprayers start up. The eastern trailhead for the Eagle’s Nest trail is at the edge of the irrigation zone and leads west up the mountain. Soon it splits into an upper branch which leads up to the ridge and across to the Mountain Maid’s homestead and dead ends at Highway 112. I took the lower branch, which descends to parallel the river below alongside the campground. Where the river turns away and the trail leads past a hillside creek, they’ve put up a sign to divert you into the campground. But I ignored that and continued on the hillside trail paralleling the separate little campground over to Highway F.

River Trail

River Trail

I then crossed on the river bridge to the old CCC river trail with its riverside bluffs. I passed white rock walls and enjoyed the triple treat of bluff, trail, and river. A Spangled Fritillary posed on a leaf for me and a Tiger Swallowtail followed suit. Following their lead, I posed too, but seated on the bluff instead of hanging from a leaf. The bluff here is notched due to the erosion of a middle layer of stone, making a scenic spot. In one spot you can shelter under the overhang.

Devil’s Kitchen Trail

Devil’s Kitchen Trail

The trail led to the CCC lodge and I crossed over to the Devil’s Kitchen Trail. I crossed the short walkway at the south trailhead and began to ascend the knob. I reached the small cave at the north end and then headed back south past the knob on the knob. The trail made another steeper rise as it crested the top, where a fallen tree was hosting some fungi. On the far side were tall pine trees with pretty bark. I tumbled down the logs which hold back the trail erosion on this side of the hill as trucks roared past, climbing the big north hill on Highway 112 out of the park.

The trail descended to the big bluff which has the partially collapsed stone room which is its namesake. The old entrance was sealed by a collapse during my lifetime, so I made my way around to the side where you can climb up to the roof and drop in through the top or peer in from the side. I didn’t feel like jumping down into the kitchen, so I peered in through the end and was startled to see a big buzzard inside. I’m sure glad I didn’t pop in on him! He helpfully flapped out onto the roof to pose for me. I bid the bluff adieu and made my way down to the river, where two boys were playing in the same pool where I lost a treasured fake jewel in my distant childhood. Maybe they found it for me. From there it was a short walk to the park store to conclude my 7.6 mile hike.

Along with the oodles of photos, I shot some video while at the park.

Neosho’s Big Spring Park

Big Spring Park in Neosho

I drove over to the campground where I washed up and changed clothes in one of the showers. Refreshed, I drove through Cassville, disappointed to find that The Rib restaurant is closed again. So I drove on to Neosho, where TripAdvisor recommended Sam’s Cellar. It was located on courthouse square and when I opened the door the smell of beer washed over me along with uninhibited voices from below. Neither appeals to me, so I retreated three blocks to Big Spring Park, where I found an attractive waterfall.

Neosho means clear or abundant water, fitting since Big Spring’s flow is almost 900,000 gallons per day and is only one of nine springs in the city. The park is pleasant, although a neglected odd amphitheater on one wall of the former quarry is a bit strange with steps leading up to an abandoned area. You can walk down to where Big Spring flows out of the rock on the west side of the hollow. I liked the styling of the big wading pool, which reminded me of the Neptune pool at San Simeon, featured in the climax of the film version of The Great Gatsby.

The east side of the old quarry has a bluff and small cave. There is supposed to be a large cave in one end of the park, sealed up by the townsfolk in the late nineteenth century after some children were briefly lost in it. The first chamber has been found and is 125 feet wide and 5 feet deep. Some believe a much larger cavern lies beyond. What fun for local kids to have a mystery cave in their park!

I found a marker remembering the local Rocketdyne plant, which built rockets used in space missions through 1968. Located on 2,000 acres of the former Fort Crowder, the plant is now Premier Turbines, which repairs and overhauls airplane engines. Just across the street from the park is a ceramic tile mural on the side of the former Safeway store. It was commissioned and designed by local artist Lawrence J. “Larry” Sanchez, who had studied at the Boston Museum School of Fine Arts and won a mural-design contest sponsored by Safeway Stores.

Spring River Overlook

Spring River Overlook

I had a quiet and relaxing dinner at El Charro in Neosho and then drove west, stopping at Twin Bridges State Park for the overlook of the Spring River. The sun was setting as I drove into Bartlesville after a nice relaxing day in the Ozarks.

Click here for a slideshow from this day hike

Friday: Tulsa Wildflowers

Brookside Wildflowers (click image for slideshow)

It was another three-day May weekend, made possible by unused snow days in the warmest winter on record. On Friday I went to Tulsa with my friend and colleague Betty Henderson. We had lunch down there and drove to the wildflower patch in the Brookside neighborhood just off Peoria, where beautiful poppies and bachelor buttons were on offer. There was a light rain as we snapped our photographs, so we cancelled our planned visit to Oxley Nature Center and went to the Marvel’s The Avengers instead, which spent more on effects than it did on the script.

Saturday: Yardwork and Table Mound

The next day the rainy forecast was belied by sunny skies, allowing me to spend time outside Meador Manor. I tackled the big pile of River Birch branches I’d piled beside the house over the past few months, forming four bundles I laid at the curb for pickup. I then cleaned out the gutters of the tree’s debris for the fourth time this spring. I noticed a bunch of branches had accumulated on the roof valley, so I climbed up there too and they joined the streetside bundles. My, but that big tree keeps me busy.

I had a big lunch at Garfield’s and the still-sunny skies lured me to hike 8.25 miles along the eastern shore of Elk City Lake, which is an hour’s drive north of Bartlesville. I’ve hiked all of the designated hiking trails there multiple times, but it had been two years since I’d hiked the best trail, Table Mound, in the spring. As it turned out, this day I would also hike the Green Thumb and Post Oak nature trails, visit the outlet channel, walk part of a previously unhiked mountain bike trail, and bushwhack up and around Table Mound. Not a bad day at all!

Circling My Prey

I drove over the dike and discovered the lake was very high, with the floodplain on either side of the roadway inundated. Taking my cue from the turkey vultures circling above, I used county roads to circumnavigate Table Mound on the lake’s eastern shore. I passed the high old smokestack of the former United Kansas Portland Cement Company at Le Hunt on the mound’s east side. The smokestack is crumbling away and one of these days shall fall, leaving only the crumbling low remains of the site, visible in satellite images but hidden away at ground level behind locked gates.

Table Mound Trail – Bluff Section

Table Mound Trail (click image for slideshow)

I drove up to the overlook above the dam and set off north down Table Mound Trail, passing trees growing in the big cracks in the limestone bluff with huge chunks broken away below, where the lower part of the trail ran alongside the base of the bluff. Wild foxglove grew by the trailside. I reached the north end of the high part of the trail where there is a nice panorama of fields to the northwest, and then took the steep dive down through a crack in the bluff to the lower part of the trail and posed in one of the rock rooms formed by the cracked limestone.

A tree looked liked it was struggling to part the rocks as I walked beside huge weathered chunks of limestone, with the green leaves of the trees providing relief. Trees framed views of the bluff and leaned to contrast with the stone. I reached the overhang camp with its convenient stone seats, of which I took advantage. Farther south along the bluff I passed under another projecting shelf. A huge stone sandwich was beside the trail, with solid stone buns and crumbled stone like chopped beef between.

The trail passed under a huge stone slab supported by a leaning pillar of stone, which was more striking from the far side. More sandwiched layers appeared on the bluff above me and a darker top layer bulged out over crumbling older slabs. Then I slid through a narrow crack in the bluff, the tightest squeeze along the trail. At one point the straight steep bluff wall contrasted to a crooked tree, and then the bluff began to diminish while the trees topped out.

I reached the end of the high bluffs at the rock walls which mark the unheralded intersection with the Post Oak trail, which parallels the Table Mound trail but runs along the top edge of the bluff. If you ever want to make a loop out of the Table Mound trail’s most impressive section, climb up at this point to the rock walls and take the Post Oak trail back to the overlook. If I were in charge of the trail system, I’d make this one big loop with the remainder of the Table Mound trail as an appendage winding south along the shore to the camping area.

Table Mound Trail – Lake Shore Section

Lake Shore Section of Table Mound Trail

Soon the trail crossed the road and I strode out on one peninsula to gauge the lake level. On my return a troop of boy scouts passed by, headed north. I found the low point in the trail, where it crosses one of the narrow inlets, flooded out. So I bushwhacked around to the east, fording the stream beside a felled barkless tree with its corkscrew grain.

The trail gave a high open view of the dam to the north, then rounded the bend and provided a view of the partially flooded campground to the south. Many of the stays with my grandparents and their gathered children’s families here in the 1970s featured high water as the lake restrained the flooding Elk River.

Campground and Green Thumb Trail

I reached the end of the Table Mound Trail, finding the scout troop had camped in the higher Timber Road area of the campground, above flooded Sunset Point. I decided to walk the Green Thumb Nature Trail, the one I dragged my parents and my patient late Aunt Mildred on many a time well over 30 years ago. I crossed the bridge over the first stream and descended the hillside with its embedded logs. The streams were flowing from recent rains and a small clearing had more wild foxglove. The trail climbed to the limestone cap, crossed by crevices, and soon I was bounding back down to the Table Mound trail for the return north.

Retracing Northward to the Outlet Channel

On the north return trek I glanced back to see a powerboat zipping above the flooded jetties. The skies were lowering and a very light rain fell, barely tapping me beneath the trees. I reached the bluff area and then decided to not follow the trail around the north end of the mound, but instead bushwhacked my way downslope, lured by the roar of the outlet channel. They had the outlet going full blast, with water crashing out of the 16 foot diameter conduit into the walls of the stilling basin, and I shot some video.

Eagle Rock Mountain Bike Trail

I had passed the entrance to the Eagle Rock mountain bike trail and there were no bikers about, so I opted to walk part of that trail system for the first time. It led north beside the outlet channel and I followed the Hillside trail, a mown path which curved around the north base of Table Mound into the woods to follow an old closed road eastward before ascending partway up the slope to turn back westward.

Bushwhacking Up Table Mound

I did not wish to return to the outlet channel and bushwhack up to Table Mound trail from there. Instead I began to bushwhack up the north side of the mound until I reached the bluff and followed it along the eastern side of the mound until it shortened where I could clamber up to a lagoon beside the start of the Table Mound trail. A sign by the overlook showed the design of the outlet channel I’d visited earlier. I shot a panorama from the overlook and then decided to walk south along the top of the bluff on the Post Oak Nature Trail.

Post Oak Nature Trail

The Post Oak trail runs parallel to the adjacent Table Mound trail below at the base of the bluff. Every so often you can peer over the side and see the blue blazed trail below. I followed it to the intersection with the Table Mound Trail and then followed it east to a glade, which I then exited to return to the bluff and overlook. I’d hiked 8.25 miles and was ready for dinner.

Sunset

Sunset at the Overlook

I dined at El Pueblito in Independence, followed by the perquisite dipped cone at the Dairy Queen. Then I drove back west to the overlook for the sunset. I shot a golden hour panorama of the overlook building and the view out over the lake in the golden hour and of the sunset. Clouds scudded across the face of the setting sun and I ventured north on the Table Mound trail to shoot a panorama over the field using my new camera’s “Vivid Mode”. Ribbon clouds across the face of the sun reminded me of the bands of Jupiter. At the close of the day I headed home across the floodplain, illuminated by the sunset.

Today was a fun if familiar hike and I again count myself lucky to have such a nice trail within an hour’s drive. I continue to be please by the photos from my new Canon camera, and I’ve learned to patiently check that the GPS is locked in so each shot is geotagged. I still have to fool the exposure a great deal, but with some tweaking in Photoshop Elements it all turns out fine.

Click here for a slideshow from the Saturday day hike

Only 1176 miles to Vegas (click image for slideshow)

Friday, May 4, 2012 was one of the district’s unused snow days for the school year and classes were dismissed. My former piano teacher, Myra Schubert, had invited me to Bethany to see her current flock of pupils at her 60th teaching anniversary recital that evening. So I looked for a day hike I could make en route and opted to try the other lake near Stillwater, Lake Carl Blackwell, having hiked at Lake McMurtry a year earlier. Carl Blackwell is a larger lake only a mile southwest of McMurtry and features over 50 miles of equestrian trails, all nicely mapped on the OSU website since the university owns the lake. My Oklahoma Hiking Trails book warned me that the area has many ticks and chiggers, so I stopped at K-Mart as I left town to stock up on Deep Woods Cutter. The forecast said I’d be hiking in the low to upper 80s, so I dressed for the heat and insects by donning a light wicking T-shirt and my RailRiders Eco-Mesh pants, which have side mesh panels down the length of each leg which I can zip open for airflow.

A later extensive internet search revealed that the lake is named for the late Carl Petty Blackwell, who graduated from Oklahoma Agricultural and Mechanical College (present-day OSU) in 1918. After serving as an agronomist for the National Fertilizer Company he became the dean of agriculture and director of the experiment station. He passed away as the lake was being constructed in the late 1930s. The lake offers a number of amenities and I was happy to pay $5 for a day use permit after exiting the Cimmaron turnpike and driving a few miles west of Stillwater to the lake.

I drove across one arm of the lake and down past a water tower to circle the lake store and get a sense of the surroundings, espying a fisherman along the shore before driving back to the then-empty Hunt’s Meadow equestrian camp to park. I walked west past a row of pine trees to a large trail map, which indicated the orange loop I’d be taking was for beginner riders. It showed a nearby blue trail was for the advanced rider looking for fun.

I crossed Highway 51C to the trailhead, which was coated with the first of the button markers and ribbons which clearly delineate each of the trails. The trail led across a meadow and across a creekbed lined with trees, a pattern which would continue for a few miles and provide me with ample opportunity to observe many butterflies darting among the flowers. I saw a lot of cow parsnip and a low clustering growth along with the occasional purple flower, flax, fleabane, and evening primrose. Some bunched up to pose together and some grouped with others of their kind. I passed one plant which at first glance looked like cow parsnip, but on closer inspection was something else.

I followed the orange markers through scrub forest and through treerows and one of the many butterflies finally paused to pose. The trail finally pushed out along one isthmus of the lake, where I took a side trail down to the shore. The Three Men in a Boat were there, evidently having finished their tour along the Thames, with a ledge-like platform sticking out of the lake near me. I passed something resembling an immense dandelion head, which the internet tells me is one stage of meadow salsify.

The trail skirted the shoreline and I passed blackberry blooms and one large toadstool, capturing a nice close-up of a purple poppy mallow. The horse trail had its expected areas of churned mud, although on one slope the horses had cut through to rock. A herd of cows across the lake streamed down into the water to cool off as I passed some very pretty sensitive briar. Beside me were the Three Men in a Boat, while an AWACS plane thundered by overhead. I was growing tired of the shoreline and was relieved when the trail ducked into the trees for an intersection with the blue trail offering crude dining benches.

Rattlesnake Ridge

I followed the blue trail up to Rattlesnake Ridge, where a box turtle bumped my boot. The ridge provided the only big rocks and high views along this hike. I was in the cross timbers, with some rather ugly trees. The grades on this trail were indeed far more challenging than the orange trail. The blue and orange trails again intersected and trees were festooned with ribbons when they parted ways again. I returned to following the orange trail, taking what a sign indicated as the Price Loop back toward the trailhead.

I passed an intimidating dead plant barrier and then the trail sidled along a barbed wire fence for a long ways. The remainder of the trail was noticeably straighter than the meandering part along the shoreline. A gap in the growth of the fencing gave a glimpse of some silly silhouettes in need of weedwacking and dragonflies darted along the trail ahead of me for awhile. A nearby homeowner had a collection of tilted birdhouses. I passed a silverleaf nightshade and a sign told me I had two more miles to go, following in the tracks of one of nature’s bandits.

I reached some water troughs where a sign told me it was only 1176 miles to Vegas. Turkey vultures circled as my trail joined several others in the Big Dip through a creekbed. The trail through the trees had grown somewhat monotonous when I was rewarded by it breaking out into a wildflower meadow with a last look at the lake.

I returned to the horse camp, where a couple of trailers and horses had come in. A friendly ranger asked about my hike, which had extended 7.9 miles, and said about 100 horses would be in by the next day for the 6th annual Poker Ride, where riders collect cards along the trail to see who winds up with winning hands. I’m sure glad I hiked the horse trails the day before that ride!

This was my second outing with my Canon Powershot SX260 HS and I was again happy with the image quality although I still have to trick it out of overexposures. The GPS continues to be balky. So long as I was careful to hold the camera with the sensor up to the sky for long enough, it would get a lock and record the coordinates, but I had to check the display each time to be sure. Many photos I failed to check still lacked coordinates, which then had to be hand-placed when uploading to Flickr. I’ve ordered a new belt case that holds the camera with the top pointing skyward, which may help. My old Panasonic cameras would just record the previous GPS lock if they didn’t have a fix at the time of a shot, which sometimes led to inaccuracy, but I preferred that to not posting any coordinates at all.

The hike was a welcome break after a stressful work week, and allowed me to break the 100 mile mark for the calendar year.

Click here for a slideshow from this day hike

At Lake Devil (click image for slideshow)

Today was the first outing for my new compact superzoom camera, a Canon PowerShot SX 260 HS. I wanted to shoot some nice scenery I’d viewed before in a different season of the year, so I opted to drive three hours southeast to Devil’s Den State Park in northwest Arkansas. My day hikes spreadsheet reminds me that I first visited Devil’s Den in November 2010. I would hike the same trails today, comparing the exfoliation of late fall to the lush growth of late spring. After my initial visit 17 months ago, I returned to Devil’s Den a year later to hike the Vista Point bridle trail south of the primary hiking trails. Some day I’d like to make the estimated 12-hour trip around the 15-mile Butterfield Trail, but that would require some planning and perseverance since I don’t like to camp, just hike. Charlie Williams of Backpacker magazine, who makes great hiking maps, made a video of a wet two-day hike there at the end of 2006 he did with Dennis England.

Off to the Devil’s Den

I made a poor choice for a hot breakfast in Bartlesville. I won’t say which diner I picked, but I should have gone to Eggbert’s instead…lesson learned. The weather forecast for Devil’s Den said overcast skies in the morning with a 20% chance of thunderstorms and clearing skies in the afternoon. Reality reversed that, with the sun starting to rip through the low clouds as I sped east along the Cherokee Turnpike. The sun would break through intermittently at Devil’s Den during the morning and early afternoon and then the clouds would seal back up.

Exposure Issues

I drove into the park three hours after leaving Bartlesville, threading my way through a flock of mountain bikers and parking at the Yellow Rock trailhead at 10 a.m. I found that the new camera’s automatic setting produced shots which looked overexposed to me, blowing out the sky every time. So I often pointed up to the sky to get it to reduce the exposure, held the shutter button down partway to lock in the settings, and then panned down to take my shot. Unsure of how well this would work, I sometimes took a regular shot and then did my exposure adjustment trick, so I took over 300 shots on today’s hike, about twice the norm. At home I found the regular shots were indeed a bit overexposed but my trick worked overall. So I need to play around some more with the camera’s exposure settings.

Contrasting Shots

Once on the trail I promptly repeated a shot of a colorful bluff I vaguely recalled making 15 months ago, allowing me to construct a seasonal contrast shot if I upscaled and downscaled to match up the 3648×2736 shot made with my Panasonic DMC-ZS3 and the 4000×3000 resolution of the new Canon. In my shot the trees and groundcover were now leafed out and the rotten hollow of an old tree had crumbled down to a stump.

Panasonic Beats Canon on Panoramas

I tried out a macro shot of a spiderwort and then tried out the stitch assist feature on the new camera, which helps you line up a sequence of photos for a panorama. The same feature on the Panasonics had a nice “ghost image” of the previous shot, using an alpha channel transparency of the image, which made it much easier to align the shots. The Canon instead shows you a much-reduced image you have to overlay over the shot you are taking, made difficult by the reduced image size and lack of transparency. The Canon does provide more overlap, which is better for software stitching, but the Panasonic’s feature’s ease-of-use makes it far superior.

In the end, the panorama of the trail ascending to hug the bluff turned out okay, and the trail then led around the overhanging bluff, with colorful layers piled overhead. The trail hugged the bluff awhile longer and then turned and climbed the mountainside, with occasional sweeping views across Lee Creek, which was hidden in the foliage below. The twisted remains of a tree projected from the end of a trail overhang and soon through the trees the yellow bluff hove into view and soon I could see the Yellow Rock lookout, with a group of hikers enjoying the vista.

Yellow Rock Overlook

Yellow Rock Overlook

I passed huge tumbled rock shelves and reached the entrance to the Yellow Rock overlook. One of the hikers was stretched out at the edge of the bluff, taking in the sweeping view across Lee Creek, with three companions perched atop Yellow Rock itself. I shot a panorama of the Lee Creek valley, which I later compared with my fall 2010 panorama. I patiently waited for the hikers to vacate the spot, allowing me to shoot a close-up of Yellow Rock with Lee Creek in the background, walk north along the bluff to view the overlook area to the south, and walk out onto Yellow Rock itself with its convenient stone seats. Soon more hikers arrived from both directions on the trail, providing a sense of scale for the huge vertical bluff.

CCC Overlook

I headed on up the mountain, with the help of stone steps, following the white trail blazes for the long walk south to the CCC overlook. A group of horses, including an Appaloosa and a Bay, was tied up where the Yellow Rock hiking trail crosses the Old Road bridle trail. A large fallen tree had fungi growing along its trunk. I crossed a couple of footbridges and climbed the trail to join other hikers at the CCC shelter at the overlook. I was able to construct another shot contrasting the fall of 2010 to the spring of 2012.

Trailside Snake

As I backtracked down the trail, the hikers who had been at Yellow Rock were stalled out. One had walked near a snake, which had reared up and flattened its head. I was no more able to identify it than they were, but I did get a nice shot of it and we stared each other down as I passed by. Soon I was back down by the bluff but rather than retrace my way to the trailhead I took a side social trail leading down to the base of a bluff and running westward. A was surprised to find a couple of buzzards along here who allowed me to approach fairly close before flapping away.

[kaptainkory on Flickr identified the snake as a hog-nose. My father used the common regional name of puff adder for it, although the internet points out that popular nickname is technically incorrect.]

The Unofficial Bluff Trail

The trail extended quite far along the bluff, tucking under high overhangs with alternating dark and light walls. The trail led on and on for a very pleasant walk with no other hikers. I posed by a cylindrical wall erosion and later sheets of rock had fallen from the bluff but not yet crumbled away. The bluff finally began to shrink and common evening primrose appeared by the trail, fooled into opening by the shade. The unofficial trail ended at a campground, with huge tilted slabs of rock.

Lee Creek

I backtracked along the park road and down to Lee Creek and took the River Trail back to the main bridge and the picturesque small shelter nearby. Soon a father and his children were paddling a small pontoon boat alongside the shelter. I walked to the shelter toward some geese as another paddleboat slapped away down the creek. I posed in the shelter’s doorway to illustrate its diminutive size.

Devil’s Den Trail

I walked up to and along the Devil’s Den Trail, past the deep crevices, banned from intrusion as part of the ongoing effort to prevent white nose syndrome, although I saw several youths violating the ban and scrambling through a fracture cave. I suppose they’d be more conscientious if the white nose syndrome also afflicted humans. I crossed a stream which had eaten into a bluff and climbed up to shoot a panorama of the bluffside trail with a hiker providing some scale. Soon I reached Twin Falls, where I shot a panorama and constructed another seasonal comparison. I walked past the upper falls and saw that one of the sentinel trees had fallen. I saw the immense eroded rock block which reminds me of the Gaudi apartments in Spain with its window-like holes, then completed the trail and forded the creek back to my car, completing a 6-mile hike.

Devil Lake

I drove to the dam at Lake Devil, where everyone was gawking at a water moccasin, but one snake for the day was enough for me. I plopped down and had a late lunch and then washed up and changed clothes in a park restroom, glad to be rid of my sweaty clothing as well as the Cutter and sunscreen residue. I bid Devil’s Den adieu by 2:30 p.m. I was still willing to hike, but wanted more comfortable conditions. So I drove one hour north on Interstate 540 to Crystal Bridges at Bentonville.

Crystal Bridges

Crystal Bridges

Wal-Mart heiress Alice Walton has put $317 million into the new Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art, a series of pavilions nestled in a ravine near downtown Bentonville, where Sam Walton opened Walton’s 5 and 10 back in the 1940s. I’m saving a visit to its interior for a future trip with a friend and fellow admirer of art. But this afternoon I figured I would have time to explore the roughly four miles of trails I’d read about which are incorporated into the museum grounds. I drove up to the main entrance, which is heralded by one of Roxy Paine’s stainless steel trees, or dendroids. This one is titled Yield and is less dramatic than his Conjoined, which I’ve seen at the Modern Art Museum of Fort Worth. The first parking lot was full, so I drove back to one at the end of the Orchard Trail, a wide wiggling concrete path leading through the trees back to the main entrance. Its borders were outlined with many tall wildflowers.

The main entrance leads to an elevator and stair tower which affords a view of the pavilions below. I descended to the courtyard and located another piece of exterior art, Robyn Horn’s Already Set In Motion, made of redwood that has been dyed black. Soon I was walking down the Rock Ledge trail, which led for half a mile due north. There were wild hydrangeas along the trail, and soon I walking beside the eponymous ledge, hewn out in the 19th century for a railroad which was never built. A stone monolith of fascinating hues and texture marked the end of the line but the trail curved back to form the mile-long Dogwood Trail leading south.

A number of trees had been cut down and the pieces stacked between trees or used for stools. Trees still to be removed had a large blue X sprayed onto them. There were tree thrones carved here and there, and I posed on one. By now I’d made over 275 shots for the day and the camera’s GPS has been on for almost six hours. I knew the previous Canon camera GPS units were notorious battery hogs, so I wasn’t too surprised that the battery was almost out. The spare I’d bought and charged up was back in my pack in the car, so I was glad to find the Dogwood Trail led straight to the outer parking lot so that I could replenish.

I headed northwest on the half-mile Tulip Tree Trail, which hugged and crossed a ravine. A short side trail looped around a ravine carved by Crystal Spring, a natural spring which feeds the museum’s ponds. I like the stone bench they had built into the side of the trail.

I reached the paved 1/3 mile Art Trail, which led across a creek to where some gentlemen were confronting Stella, a bronze pig by André Harvey with a funny expression. A lovely trail area was not improved, in my opinion, by Dan Ostermiller’s Shore Lunch. I just don’t care for the thick rounded forms he uses in his bear bronzes. I’m also a philistine when it comes to James Turrell’s Way of Color, a “Skyspace sculpture” I mistook for a restroom because of a nearby sign. Evidently when it is operating you sit inside the space near sunset and artificial colors and the view of the darkening sky through the oculus provides a fun visual experience. Too bad its exterior looks so much like a 1960s state park restroom boondoggle. The actual restroom is up a side trail and rather more prosaic…and smelly.

There were more bears to come, this time Paul Manship’s Group of Bears, this version being cast decades after it was modeled. It was originally made for a gateway at the Bronx Zoo. The minimal detailing on the figures originally would not have mattered, since they would have been positioned twenty feet up in the air.  I admired some blue false indigo flowers nearby and then climbed along the 1.5 mile Crystal Bridges Trail to an overlook area providing a view of the pavilions to the east, with tall trees rising beyond.

Beside the trail was one of the fifteen Grains of Sand stones by Robert Tannen which line the various trails. Farther along were stones crossing the creek, forming A Place Where They Cried by Pat Musick and Jerry Carr to commemorate the Trail of Tears, part of which flowed about two miles north of the museum site. I then backtracked to the North Lawn Trail, which is a wide grassy trail delineated by concrete curbs. I had seen couples and families spread out to relax and picnic on the expansive north lawn earlier when I passed above it on the Rock Ledge Trail.

That trail led to the most disappointing artwork of the day, Lowell’s Ocean by Mark di Suvero. Roberta Smith admired this 20-foot-tall 26,000 pound monstrosity when it was installed in New York. I wish it had stayed there, as I find such huge abstract steel jumbles an ugly blot on the landscape compared to the weird elegance of something like Paine’s dendroids.

I descended to the courtyard level and briefly toured the gift shop before heading to the car, passing more pretty flowers. I’d hiked 4.5 miles around the grounds of the museum and look forward to returning later this year to view the art collection inside.

My New Camera Has Significant Drawbacks

It was a fun day and my camera gave me some nice shots. But its automatic mode tends to overexpose photos and I had to resort to significant post processing at times. Compared to my previous Panasonic Lumix camera it has worse battery life, inferior panoramic stitching assistance, and the GPS is far worse, often failing to geotag photos with no discernible pattern or reason for that failure.

The camera’s body design has ergonomic and design errors, such as a power button which is too difficult to press, being buried in a slight hollow. And the battery and memory card compartment lid wraps around the tripod screw mount, forcing me to remove my GorillaPod’s quick release clip every time I need to remove or insert either the battery or the memory card.

These shortcomings are quite disappointing, but the camera does take nice shots overall. I’ll play around with the exposure settings and see if other owners are reporting GPS problems. Perhaps I just have a defective unit.

Click here for a slideshow from these day hikes