By the time we arrived at my uncle and aunt’s house in Arkansas the skies had cleared to a very welcome blue. The hot sunshine and cool sharp wind made it hard to decide between shorts or puffy coats. Stan had acquired a funky odor so we opened all the doors in an attempt to dry him out while we caught up with the fam.

My uncle suggested that we go to Roaring River State Park. This is where we had planned to spend the previous two nights. We were thrilled to still have the opportunity to see it since we had to change our plans due to some extreme weather!

Upon arrival we immediately noticed the high water levels and the remnants left behind by the flooding. There were trees (yes entire very large trees), mud, and debris covering much of the parking areas, benches, and walkways. The campground was evacuated and closed as it had obviously been completely submerged in water. We surely dodged a bullet there.

We were impressed by how quickly the park staff was working to clean up. They’d already cleared large areas of parking lots and main walkways and ensured the hatchery was still pumping out trout for the numerous fishermen lining the river’s edge.

We wandered around looking at the typically clear but currently cloudy waters in the hatchery and marveling at the immense fresh water spring. It’s set back in a recessed, grotto like area with a small waterfall flowing into it. This spring pumps 22.5 million gallons of fresh water out every day. We also saw our first snakes of the trip including the venomous Copperhead, which we’d never seen in person before. Fortunately, it was a small one in the water (unless you ask Tom who swears it was 3 feet long). Regardless of “big snake stories” we did start to feel a bit uneasy about how long we’d left Stan’s doors wide open and what a nice comfy snake house he might be.

Next we went to drive over Beaver Bridge, a historic wooden suspension bridge built in 1949 and currently the only suspension bridge in Arkansas open to traffic. Sadly when we arrived, we found that the bridge was only cross-able by boat since the area was still flooded. We learned that this particular flooding was caused by the dam down the river. Local opinion is that proper dam management could have prevented this flooding.

It appeared that the flooded bridge was perhaps more of an attraction now than in its usual state, as folks were coming and going the entire time we were there. After contemplating how lucrative it may be to open a concession and merchandise stand next to the “bridge closed” sign we continued on to see this dam for ourselves. Well it sure didn’t disappoint. Beaver Dam was open full throttle, pumping immense amounts of water out by the second. We got to experience not just the top but also the bottom of the dam where we were rewarded with a perfect little full rainbow from the spray and sunshine. Sadly, there were no pots of gold to be seen.

The next day my uncle and aunt took us on an exploration of a forested paradise in the Ozark Mountains right outside their back door. The land angles down (sometimes quite steeply) off the edges of their yard. We hiked down the first hill and found out what the flood-dragged-in: part of the neighbors drive-way, pieces of a ceramic dish set, numerous pieces of glass mason jars, and an old Buckhorn beer can (we’re talking thick aluminum days “old”). Further in we saw the natural spring that someone had made into a well years ago.

We then climbed down an even steeper hill to another stream in the woods and while examining some of the many amazing rocks, discovered fossils. Not just a fossil or two. We were finding fossils in about every fourth rock we picked up! While Missouri’s history spoke to us through human words on plaques and signs, Arkansas’s history was revealing itself through the land. We just had to get a little dirty (and maybe slide down a few hills) to see it.

We spent the rest of the day on another scenic drive touring more of the breathtaking Ozarks. Some of the greens here have already darkened into their rich Summer lushness, while others still retain the bright vigor of Spring youth. It was truly stunning against the deep blue, clear sky. As the day wore on, the hills cast shadows across some of the forest which only added to the intense contrast of the landscape.

That night we dined on catfish and fried pickles in bustling downtown Bentonville, home of the Walmart Museum (which we didn’t visit). The next morning we woke to more gray skies, more thunder, and more rain. Fortunately, our spirits were quickly lifted by yet another great meal. We breakfasted on eggs covered with corn and black bean salsa that my uncle had made the previous year. There was raspberry jelly for the toast (homemade by one of the neighbors) and bacon. Generously filled with home cooking, we moved back into Stan—who now smelled much more like his normal self. With a newly acquired jar of home canned dill pickles we began wandering on to Hot Springs for our first National Park visit of the trip.

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