Pop over to 365 days of 2011 to see what we’re up to.

While that’s going on things will be fairly quiet around here.

Now we couldn’t leave until UPS brought us our new sleeping bags. The delivery did not arrive until 6:30pm and that meant we didn’t actually get on the road until 7:30pm. It would take a 90 minute drive to get to our destination; we’d decided to go to Hercules Glades Wilderness for this trip and make camp just down the hill from the trail head and parking lot. So that meant we’d be attempting our very first backpacking trip…actually, our very first time carrying packs…in the winter and in the dark. We do like a challenge, apparently.

We arrived with little incident and parked the van at the Coy Bald Trail Head. There was one car there already, music playing and engine on. This remote area was obviously a “drink beer and make-out point”.

We donned our packs, coats, gloves and headlamps and headed into the wilds. Signing in at the trail head showed us that no other campers had been this way for several weeks. (Or they’d not signed in…more likely.) Off we headed down the trail. It’s about a 200ft descent from the parking lot to the creek bed. We’d seen a fire ring on an earlier visit and predictably found a clear space to put the tent. We set up camp in the dark and fixed dinner. By 10:30 we were pretty tired and went to sleep, eager to give our new bags a try.

Ginger makes the early morning coffee in the Hercules Glades Wilderness

The bags did well…we were warm and cozy. We woke to a cloudy morning that felt more chilly than it was…likely around 50°F. Coffee, breakfast, breaking down the camp, and pumping some water…soon it was nearly noon and we had a full day’s hike ahead. But before we left the area, we had a nose around Devil’s Den, an interesting little creek bed flanked by steep hills on both sides.

Ginger enjoying her morning coffee

The creek in Devils Den

The Rock Spring Trail starts off with an immediate climb of 240ft. Of course by this time the sun had come out and the temperature had risen to the mid 60′s. Combine this activity, the weather, and thermal fleece base layers, and we were sweating profusely within minutes. I had to stop and catch my breath several times as I could feel my heart pounding hammers into my eardrums. Soon enough, though, the trail leveled out to woods of cedars and oaks. Interspersed with the trees are grassy areas of open glade. Maybe an hour later we began the descent to the next watering hole. Another 240ft down a rough and rock-strewn hill to the shut-ins on Long Creek.

The sudden warm, humid weather caused condensation on the cold ground and this made the smooth rocks of the creek bed incredibly slippery and quite treacherous. We found another path alongside the creek and made our way to the falls. At that point we had to decide if we would make camp there and then return the way we came the next day or continue along the loop today and hopefully find a place to camp sometime before dark. As neither of us was particularly tired, we opted to fix a quick lunch and continue onto the Coy Bald Trail. We also made sure to fill both hydration bladders as this was the only place with water for the next 24 hours or so.

Ginger at Long Creek Falls.

Ginger making lunch at Long Creek Falls.

The falls are quite a popular camping area and we found two well-used fire rings. Although the locations were gorgeous, the human debris and dust-strewn camping area left us longing for true outdoors wilderness. We were eager to get moving. We found the trail and began a very steep ascent of  300 ft. By this time my leg muscles were really feeling the pull of lugging my body plus a 35lb pack up a steep hill. I felt like each step was a struggle as I physically pulled myself up. I knew I’d be feeling this the next day.

Soon we found ourselves in a clearing overlooking Blair Ridge. From this point you can see Hercules Tower several miles away. I want to camp here someday as the clearing faces south and I can just imagine drinking my coffee in the morning sun. But the forecast was for high winds and thunderstorms from the South so we knew we needed to be on the North side of a hill for protection from the elements. Back over the ridge we went and found a nice clearing  just over the hill to the North. But what looks clear isn’t always a good site for a tent. The area is clear because trees can’t grow. Because it’s rocky. And you can’t pitch a tent on rocks! We then had a nose around in the woods just above the clearing and the soft ground seemed like it would work. In reality, the soft dirt is really just leaf litter and there is a rock shelf about 6″ down. So staking the tent wasn’t optimal. But we made it work. Soon it was dark and we holed up in our tent in our sleeping bags and Thermarest chairs and read our books with our headlamps.

We knew the forecast called for rain and possible thunderstorms so we weren’t surprised to be awakened by a thunderstorm at midnight. Try as we might, neither of us was able to stay awake for it, though. That’s pretty hard to believe because the rain made a terrible noise hitting the tent. But we were dry inside and slept until morning.

When we did wake up, we did a quick check of the tent and found only mild moisture, most likely from condensation against the cold floor of the tent. With an air temperature near 60°F on the last day of December this was to be expected. We then realized that the light coming into the tent was more yellow than usual. We have a yellow tent. So we expect this. But it looked…more yellow. I checked outside and the post-storm clouds were positively golden and the entire world was bathed in this spooky yellow light. We scrambled out for some pictures. And we retrieved our food from the tree where we had hung it. And made coffee. I love coffee when we’re camping!

Christmas Break Backpacking - Storm Clouds

View to the North and Lower Pilot Knob

A check of the weather radio revealed that the dark blue clouds to the north of us (with the constant rumble of thunder) held the potential for a  tornado. And the radio was giving another warning as well, but I was not alarmed as it was down in Branson, 30 miles away. We continued to drink our coffee and watched the morning unfold. The rumbling continued. And then another tornado warning was issued. Apparently a tornado was spotted 4 miles from Taneyville. I then remembered the last town we had passed through on the way here.  Taneyville. The thought of being in a tornado in a tent in December was so funny to me that I just couldn’t be to worried. Plus the storm just didn’t “feel” tornado-ish. Soon enough the line of storms passed over (sans tornado) and we had another thunderstorm with some nice lightning and thunder at close range. Always exciting for storm lovers like us! (We found out later that we were quite a bit south of Taneyville and in reality the dark clouds we saw to the north was most likely the tornado.)

Passing time while the storm goes by

Gary waiting out the storm

When the storm passed we checked the sky and figured the clear blue meant the dry weather had moved in and we could safely pack up and head home.  As it had been raining, everything was in the tent or vestibules so we were able to pack up easily. We stuffed the sleeping bags into their compression sacks. We deflated and rolled up our sleeping pads. We changed into new clothes for the day. The only thing left was the tent…which we were sitting in of course. The entire area was dripping wet and we needed a dry place to sort our packs. Since our tent can be pitched with just the footprint and the fly, we were able to detach the tent from inside and still be dry while we dismantled it and pack each piece away. Best of all, the ground under the footprint was dry so we were able to do this entire process without getting wet.

Back on the trail again

Ginger on Coy Bald Trail, Hercules Glades Wilderness

The hike back to the trail head, completing a 6.8 mile loop, moved along remarkably fast and we were finished by 1pm. I had been looking at a map, but Gary was stunned to see the sign-in kiosk at the trail head. He figured we still had another couple hours of hiking. I think we were both surprised at how easily we were able to hike this distance and how little time it took us. Maybe, just maybe, we’re getting stronger and all these day hikes are paying off!

Ginger at the end of the hike

Gary at the Coy Bald Trail trail head

On our drive back to Springfield we took the long route home and checked out the other trail head at Hercules Glades. It showed much more signs of human use and in fact we saw a man get out of his jeep and throw some trash out over the roadway. He drove away before we could get a photo of his license plate as Gary had suggested. Once in Springfield the main things on our minds were showers and food. After eating nothing but beans and nuts for days we were both pretty eager for some carnivorous luxury, so we had a New Year’s Eve steak dinner. It was awfully yummy.

So what bags to buy? We were advised to get 0°F rated bags made of down. That is easy enough…there are many bags on the market. But as I’m a fairly large woman, I require a bit more diameter at hip level than most high performance mummy bags can give. This was the main reason we went with the Big Agnes bags in the first place. After much research we ordered new MontBell Super Spiral Down Hugger #0 bags. This bag is made with fabric cut on the bias and a stretchy stitch pattern so that the bag can stretch with your movement to give a mind boggling 22″ additional circumference from the unstretched state. We had seen a previous year’s model of a similar bag at a local dealer and were quite impressed. We knew this bag had the potential to be both incredibly comfortable and wonderfully warm. At 3lbs 4oz, they were nearly the same weight as our previous bags but at a lower temp rating and with better reviews. We couldn’t wait to get them! And because our window of good weather was quite narrow, we opted for 2nd-Day Air delivery.

Wednesday was the day! By 8am we’d already checked the UPS tracking numbers and knew the bags were out for delivery. So it was just a matter of time. UPS typically delivers late in the day for us. Would we be lucky and get them earlier? We packed everything we could except the sleeping bags. Our packs were ready, lying on the bed, lower compartment all empty and ready for the new bags. The cats were given extra food and water. We wanted to head out the minute the bags came. So all day long we killed time on various projects. Gary worked on some computer deskwork and I did some knitting. But we were like kids on Christmas morning. We paced. We sighed. We swore. We stood at the front window with our nose pressed to the glass. Cars would pass. Trucks could be heard on nearby streets. Darkness came. 6pm came and went. Finally…at 6:30pm…the doorbell rang. The bags were here.

We immediately took the bags out, laid them on the floor, and got inside. And just like we had figured, they were heavenly. So much room! So we quickly stuffed them into our compression sacks, shoved them into our packs, and got in the car. Off we went for our first backpacking trip!

We spent a long time researching and looking at tents. Each time we thought we’d found the one we wanted we saw another we liked even more. A three season tent was essential for spring and fall camping, some useable vestibule space that would double as a wind break for cooking was also high on our wish list. It had to be big, or even a three person tent so that we can keep our packs inside if the weather is really foul. And it needed to be as light as possible for backpacking.

After a long search the prime contender was The North Face Madraque, but we couldn’t find any reviews, nor could we find anyone locally that stocked it. We had a play in the The North Face Minibus at Ozark Adventures, and nearly bought one; but the ‘oh so cutsie’ design put us off in the end.

Popping into Dynamic Earth (something we do too much of at the moment) we had a look at the MSR Hubba Hubba which was far too narrow for our needs there wasn’t enough width in the tent for us both to comfortably lie side by side, Head to toe might have worked but it still seemed tight. Certainly there was no room for packs as well. But we did like the quality of the construction and the way it was put together, so we looked at the MSR Mutha Hubba, which was nice and roomy. It’s meant to be for three, but it fits two just right. Three even if the third was Lanie, who’s very small, would be tight in this tent. However, we were very impressed with how light and easy to set up it was, the build quality looked very good too. We went away and checked the reviews (almost 100% positive) before returning and buying the tent and footprint. We agonized for quite a while about buying locally or via Amazon. I like to support local businesses and finally decided that the ease of dealing with any problems would be worth the extra cash.

I did have reservations about the color. I wanted a tent with minimal visual impact on the environment. However, with the current fall colors it is blending in very well, even in the middle of a stand of trees.

In use we’ve found it very easy to set up, the footprint is an absolute essential, protecting the base of the tent, and also holding the tent poles in place. That lets you use the flysheet only, or in the rain, you can set the flysheet first and then set up the tent – enabling you to keep the tent dry.

The aluminium tent poles are a joy to set up, and we loved the way they just push into grommets on the footpad, tent and flysheet. It’s a much simpler arrangement than the ‘Jake’s Foot’ used on some other tents, which we thought might be prone to breaking as they are plastic.

The super small and light tent pegs are really good. I was able to push them into stoney ground easily, only one required tapping in with a tree branch. Removing them was also easy I just looped my knife lanyard under the hooks and they pulled straight out.

The only disappointment was the vestibules, which a backpack will completely fill. We’re thinking about adding a lightweight floor to the vestibules to keep the dirt out of the tent, and also keep anything stored in them off of the wet ground. The vestibule doors have two zippers so that you can zip down from the top for ventilation, leaving most of the flap closed. Once or twice I accidentally grabbed the top zipper when exiting the tent.

The wind picked up over the weekend, and the shape of the tent seemed to shrug it off. There was hardly any noise, and no drafts inside.

The tent has an opaque panel in the centre of the roof, which we were dubious about, because it will partially obscure the view of the stars if we camp without the flysheet set. However, in use the panel really lights up the inside of the tent.

There are two huge gear pockets on either side, easily big enough for all our loose bits and pieces.

We bought compression stuff sacks and they make putting the tent away and carrying it very easy. It takes just a couple of minutes to store it.

Our MSR Mutha Hubba tent at Berry Bend Campground

MSR Mutha Hubba tent - Okay I opened the fly on the 'wrong' side for the door opening but it cut down the wind.

Our MSR Mutha Hubba tent - the color looks fine against the leaves, we'll have to see how it fares in other environments. The color is certainly growing on me with use.

Having previously found campsites along the I-44 corridor, we decided to break the trip up and take in Dillard Mill stopping for the night at Red Bluff campground. Hopefully there’d be a free slot at the wonderful Pines Overlook, and we were now in possession of a huge can of waspy thing killer should the area still be home to the aforementioned nasty waspy things.

Somehow we got off to a slow start, I’m sure Mick’s passion for drinking scotch must have had something to do with it, but I honestly can’t remember, which is probably indicative in itself. The result of this was that we arrived at Dillard Mill just after  four pm as the staff were leaving for the day. We made the best of it we could, scouting around the outside, taking pictures, and reading the display boards. In the process I discovered that the Ozarkian pronunciation of what I thought was the rather British named Huzzah Creek, was ‘Hoozer Crick’. Oh well.

Mick checking out the photo opportunities at Dillard Mill

Dillard Mill, Huzzah Creek, Missouri

By six pm (If the camera’s date and time information is to be believed) we’d travelled the few miles down the road to Davisville and on to the Red Bluff Campground. Much to our surprise we discovered that the Pines Overlook was completely empty, so we picked the best campsite and set up camp on the edge of the one-hundred-and-forty foot high bluff overlooking Hoozer Huzzah Creek. Once the tents were up we took Mick down to the main Red Bluff Campground to see Red Bluff and also cool off in Huzzah Creek. We met a couple of guys Kayaking down the creek – it was a lot higher than our last visit, and in fact it looked like the lower campground had been flooded out recently. Had we been staying longer we might of taken them up on their offer to let us borrow their kayaks. Ginger and I are thinking about getting our own kayaks or a canoe, so the chance to try out a kayak was very tempting.

Mick admiring the view of Red Bluff, Missouri

Huzzah Creek and Red Bluff, Red Bluff Campground, Missouri

Gary in typical pose taking pictures at Red Bluff - Photo Mick Felton

Getting back to the Pines Overlook Ginger spotted a wonderful Luna Moth.

Luna Moth

We had a great evening with a roaring fire courtesy of Mick, and spent our time sipping scotch and soaking up the fantastic view.

Pines Overlook Campsite, Red Bluff Campground, Missouri

Ginger enjoying the view at Pines Overlook Campsite

Pines Overlook Campsite at night

The next morning we awoke fairly early and ventured out to take a few pictures in the early morning light. Most of my earlier shots were miserable failures as I hadn’t got my glasses on and I missed that my camera wasn’t focusing as it should (operator error I should add, I turned the autofocus off the night before). The temptation to just sit and look at the view while we were drinking our morning coffee was too great, and we got away a bit late.

Pines Overlook Campsite at daybreak - blurry version

Pines Overlook Campsite at daybreak (plus a bit)

Fungi at Pines Overlook Campsite

We decided to cut across country and then head North up to St Louis. We covered a lot of new ground and saw a lot of places we’d like to visit in the future, but the result was we arrived in St Louis and at the Arch quite late in the day. Mick had a great time at the Arch, going through the museum, watching the ‘building of..’ video, and we all took a trip to the top. I’ve so many pictures of the Arch that I didn’t take any. I probably should have taken one of Mick there at least.

After the Arch we went to the old Courthouse and looked around. Once done, we debated what to do next, Ginger was keen on the Botanical Garden and the Art Museum, Mick and I were keen on the Museum of Transportation. Whatever we were to do we needed to stay in St Louis. It seems there were no camping grounds so we headed out down the I-44 towards the Museum of Transportation and stopped overnight at a fairly seedy motel. We’d run out of scotch, so we had an interesting drive around the ‘more interesting’ part of St Louis looking for a reasonable liquor store. Surprisingly we found one.

Tug Boat and C-47, Museum of Transportation, St Louis, Missouri

The next day braving temperatures in the high nineties we went to the Museum of Transportation, which had an astounding number of steam locomotives. Mick was in his element, climbing in the cabs, ringing bells, and getting very excited about a Santa Fe line locomotive. The engines were very big, okay huge, and very impressive, but I was surprised at their lack of conservation. In the UK a lot of the surviving steam locomotives have been restored to concourse condition, the best you could say for the engines and rolling stock here is that they were preserved. Certainly not in working order.

Mick 'Cassey Jones' Felton at the controls of a 4-8-8-4 'Big Boy' locomotive

Union Pacific 4-8-8-4 'Big Boy' locomotive

Mick and #5011

With the impending onset of heatstroke we got ourselves some refreshments and went to see the the museum’s Route 66 exhibition. It was somewhat lacking in exhibits, but it was very interesting to read up on the history behind Route 66, and its presence explains to a certain degree the number of large campsites we’ve been discovering. Many are a throwback to the time when the only practical way to travel across the country was by car and not everyone could afford Motels, and the hotel chains hadn’t taken off.

Chrysler gas turbine car

Route 66 Exhibition, Museum of Transportation, St Louis

Finally it was back to the air conditioned comfort of the van and destination Springfield. We stopped a couple of times along the way. Once for ice cream at Rubies in St James, and then later to have a look around a couple of flea markets.

Grand Gulf State Park

Using Blue Spring as a base we went off to explore the near-by Grand Gulf and Mammoth Spring, the latter enabling Mick to tick another state off of his list as it’s over the state line in Arkansas.

We were a bit concerned that Mick would find the Ozarks a bit tame after the rugged beauty of New Zealand, but he seemed to be suitably impressed by the 150′ deep hole in the ground that’s Grand Gulf. Despite the heat we decided to hike one of the trails, and we even ventured off trail a bit to get a better look around. We finished our tour by going down the stairs to the bottom of the gulf, hot work – to say the least.

Mick at the bottom of Grand Gulf

Leaving Grand Gulf behind, it was a short trip to Mammoth Spring where the air, cooled by the spring water was a welcome relief.

Mammoth Spring, Arkansas (Taken the previous year)

We were at Mammoth Spring on July 26 last year with the hideous looking Nissan Cube so I requested a new picture with our current, to my mind, much nicer looking vehicle. Ginger kindly humored me and took this picture.

I should add at this point that the Van has now got working air conditioning, as the previous week I forked out the $600 needed to get a major component replaced. Whatever the bit was, it worked, and that’s the key thing.

While strolling around Mammoth Spring we saw what was either an otter or a muskrat. I’m still not sure what it was.

Was it an otter? Ginger and Mick discuss the sights of the afternoon at Mammoth Spring. We've subsequently concluded in was a muskrat. Or was it?

Having finished doing our touristy bit for the day, we returned to camp and a well needed dip in the swimming hole. Not willing to let anyone rest a moment longer than necessary, I rallied the troops for a reconnoiter up river, with an idea of getting up to the Hwy 17 bridge and then floating back down. It was an ambitious plan, and after a day walking around in the heat doomed to fail, though we did get far enough up the river to be within earshot if not sight of the bridge.

Neither Ginger or Mick are that happy in the water so they had the added support of some ‘noodles’ we’d bought, while I dragged the dry box with the camera and some water along. Some of the pools we passed through were well over 30 feet deep, and both Mick and Ginger weren’t very comfortable crossing them even with the noodles. They were game to give it a try though, and it was slippery rocks that proved to be our undoing, it was proving just too difficult to keep moving upstream safely over some of the the shallow ‘riffles’. So we turned around, and I laid on my back and floated back to our campsite, and just a little beyond, so that Mick could get to try out the stunningly cold water where Blue Spring joins Jacks Fork.

Looking back towards our campsite on Jacks Fork

Ginger and Mick brought along noodles to help them float through the pools. As I float, I don't qualify for a noodle, I carry the dry bag and cameras.

Don't ask what Mick is doing at this point, though practicing the ancient art of Noodle Water Golf is probably the most appropriate answer.

The bluffs on Jacks Fork aren't particularly high, but they are very pretty and interesting. In a lot of places they have been undercut and collapsed into the river. In some cases leaving quite large overhangs suspended over the river as can be seen here. You can also feel the coldness where various small springs feed into the river.

Mick recreates a scene from 'Apocalypse Now' as he wades the Jacks Fork river with the aid of a noodle standing in as a rifle.

Mick continues on the quest for the Hwy 17 bridge

Gary, Ginger and Mick on Jacks Fork. It's darn hard trying to take a self portrait while wading and attempting to keep the camera high and dry.

Come the evening and the pyromaniac in Mick came to light when he delighted in cutting wood and piling the campfire high, which suits me as I’m a budding  pyromaniac myself. Mick has the kids’ tent all to himself, so he ought to have enough room, though the air-bed is about as long as the tent.

Our evening around the campfire was punctuated by the local wildlife. First an armadillo came strolling through the center of the camp, totally oblivious to our presence, despite having three flashlights shining on him. He paused in the long grass at the edge of the campsite, and sat up on his back legs sniffing the air. Then he realised his mistake, did a combination of a back flip and somersault, leaving only the shaking undergrowth behind. It was most impressive, and I thought quite reminiscent of the way the little alien scampered across the Nostromo’s dining room table after exiting John Hurt’s chest.

The fun wasn’t over though, as a little later the beady eyes of a raccoon appeared just down the path from where we were sitting. The raccoon too seemed unconcerned about having flashlights pointed at him, and he just sauntered off after Ginger went to have a discouraging word with him.

Not much later we were disturbed again, this time by said raccoon taking the lid off of one of the kitchen boxes. Mick said he saw its rear end sticking up in the air as it had its head stuck down in the box.  It was time to move the boxes to the van for safe keeping. It must have been a busy night for the raccoon, for throughout the early hours I could here trash can after trash can yield to his raccoony  attentions.

Mick relaxing in Jacks Fork River at Blue Spring Swimming Hole

Mick cools off in Jacks Fork River at Blue Spring Swimming Hole

Mick on the Fox Glacier South Island - New Zealand

Recently through the magic of the Internets I’ve managed to renew contact with several people who I’d lost contact with over the years.

One of those is Mick, who I’ve known since I was ‘knee high to a grasshopper’ as my father used to say. We’ve been exchanging e-mails for a couple of years, and Mick, like me has decided to drop out of the rat race, take the cash and enjoy life for a while. For the past month and more he’s been slowly working his way around the world. Today he arrives in Springfield to stay with us for a couple of weeks before departing for a brief halt in Boston before returning to the UK.

Mick was brought up camping, and seems to enjoy hiking, so we are planning on taking him out and about, though the one hundred degree weather is going to make things a bit uncomfortable for someone arriving from the middle of winter in the southern hemisphere.

I’m looking forward to lots of yarns and many years’ catching up over the next couple of weeks.

Getzger Cat and TV

Tonight for the first time in ages we watched a movie. Getzger, keen to be in on the action ousted Blue Kitty from her usual perch, made it his own, and enjoyed the experience in a way only Getzger can. That is by totally zoning out. He was so relaxed I couldn’t resist taking a picture.

Gary and Ginger Allman at Table Rock Lake, Missouri. Gary: Note to self - must renew my YMCA membership.

The heat index for the next few days is predicted to be in the 105°-110°F range. The girls are with their father, and Alek is proving capable of looking after himself and the cats, so we decided the best place to be would be in a lake.

We were going to go to Stockton and try out some of the nice campgrounds we found, but severe thunderstorms and over 5″ of rain in the area meant a trip to the south instead and a another visit to the Big Bay Campground on Table Rock Lake. We tried a different site this time, and had just about the whole campground to ourselves.

Once our camp was set-up, the only thing to do was alternate between laying in the lake and sitting in the shade.

Big Bay at Table Rock Lake Missouri. A Lazy Photo - taken from where we were sitting.

Table Rock Lake, Missouri

Big Bay, Table Rock Lake, Missouri

Déjà vu

Once the sun started to go down we enjoyed some wine down by the lakeside, followed by some more swimming. It was at this point I managed to drop my Swiss Navy pocket knife into the soft mud near the shore. It was getting dark, so I didn’t bother to look for it. The mud was very soft and it would be impossible to find.

Gary with a (plastic) glass of wine at Table Rock Lake

The next morning I thought there’d be no harm in having a quick look for my knife so I put on the mask and goggles and went to have a look. I found the knife straight away, the orange lanyard was very easy to spot.

We were going to stay for at least a couple of days, but Ginger started to feel ill around lunch time, so we hurriedly packed up camp and headed back to Springfield and a doctor. Fortunately all Ginger needed was a course of pills, and she soon felt better.