Our Anniversary Camping Trip this year had us visiting both familiar and uncharted destinations: Mountain Thyme Bed & Breakfast and Devil's Den State Park in Northwest Arkansas.  We didn't do as much planning (or shopping) prior to the trip this year we did last year.  In fact, we didn't even take as much stuff with us.  I had been meaning to get my oil changed for some weeks but didn't get around to it until the day of our departure.  So, first  thing Monday the 23rd, I was off to Jiffy-Lube - and peace of mind.  Upon returning home, getting the camping gear down was the first order of business.  Things were pretty much set there, as it was all ready to go when we put it up last trip.  Apart from groceries and such, which we intended to get on location this year, we were set.  A little sweeping up at home and we were off and running by about 1:30 P.M. 

Though we made this leg this year, we decided that next year (or time) we would avoid using the Toll-way/LBJ route to get to Eastbound I-30.  Instead, we intend to go directly north from home up the Toll-way to Hwy 121, west to I-75, then North again on 75 till exit on 380 - then east to Greenville and I-30 again.  The idea being to avoid Dallas traffic and the double backing it involves.

Leaving at the time we did, traffic was not too bad, i.e., not at a stand-still.  Actually it was pretty quick.  A little too quick for me.  Five lanes of LBJ at 80 mph, with everyone everywhere changing lanes at the same time is a little nerve-racking to me these days.

This time I remembered that our Jack-in-the-Box was in Sulfur Springs.  We had eaten a bit before we left home but we just had to make the stop.  We were rewarded with a "Jack Head."  They actually had them this time!  I guess I should explain that that was the reason we stopped there the first time, on our honeymoon trip - to get a Jack-Head.  We went to all the trouble to order the food with which a "Head" came free, only to be told they were "out".  They said they'd have some the next day and we could come back and get ours.  I kept track of the receipt for a week and on our return trip we passed by again. But again, no heads.  So we've been stopping ever since. . .

It was getting close to dark when we arrived at the exit off I-30 for Hwy 7 (Arkadelphia).  It's such a beautiful drive up 7 that I regretted the lack of forethought - not leaving a bit earlier.  The days were getting shorter quicker than I thought.  Dusk was settling in as we crossed over Lake DeGray.  The sunset had already passed.  The steely, gray scale illumination had it's own sleepy beauty though.  Driving over the dam gave us a wonderful view of the lake, scattered lights twinkling with the last reflected rays of daylight.

Of course, it was already dark coming into Hot Springs.  Night in the Ouachita out-back is really dark. Trees, lifted even higher by the mountainy slopes, blocks out all but the starlight from directly above.  I always get this rather pleasant sense when one has traveled far enough that the wilderness, even in towns, seems to  creeps right up to all forms of civil improvements.  Quite the opposite of Dallas, where the wilderness has been beaten back for miles.  In the big cities it seems the wilderness encroaches on civilization.  Once we get to Hot Springs, it's more like civilization is still encroaching on the wilderness.  And if things stood still a while, viney tendrils would quickly draw it all back into an original entelechy.  The charm of approaching city lights peeking through the trees rekindles a sense of warmth in the preoccupied endeavors of humanity.  Contrast to the big city where all outward warmth seems to be awash, even drown in glare.

Even the obligatory opening string of fast-food restaurants seem to have regained a more human element, far from the cliché caricature their big city cousins exhibit.   Then. . .  maybe it's just the magic of Hot Springs, and the "Main Street" city ambiance.  I just love driving through that town.   The final hurrah of time stood still, a frontier gateway to the wilderness to the north.

Steeped in all these musings, we were upon Mountain Thyme before we knew it.  Since we've been there a couple of times before, the dissociative syndrome that says, "Where am I?"  Where do I turn?" and the tense acuity that goes with that, had receded leaving only the pleasant sense of arriving home after a long drive.

Rhonda greeted us with a warmth that matched our own.  She had even set some wonderful ambient music  playing for us as she showed us to our room, a bit self conscious of the Bicycle Gang that had occupied the place the day before.  Apparently a troop of cycling aficionados had reserved accommodations as part of their tour.  Their bicycles lined the picket fence in front of the house.

As we settled in it felt good to be back in the "Dogwood" room.  Carole had reserved it  well ahead of time.  We missed it last stay.  It's such a wonderful room.  Of course, for us it had the added warmth of being where we spent our honeymoon two years earlier.  Nevertheless, it's wonderful in it's own right, marvelously appointed and furnished.  Every little touch said "we're so happy to have you back".  We meant to get the handsome fireplace going but it was a still a little warm out.   The luxurious four poster king bed beckoned and it wasn't long before we were snuggled in.  Carole read a bit, as is her custom, and I flipped the remote a bit, as is my custom.  And, so closed our first day.

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The next morning, Tuesday, 24th - our Anniversary -  we awoke only a bit later than usual for us.  We went downstairs for coffee and poked our heads out to see things in the daylight.  The Cyclers were stirring, preparing for another day on the road.  We lazed around until our gracious hosts brought breakfast up to our room.  I promise, none better can be had anywhere.  We partook of it in the east window, with morning sunshine streaming in. I should have taken a picture of it. Such fare makes me wonder why I don't eat breakfast more.   After breakfast we cleaned up a bit and Carole and I jotted a few things down in our "camping journals"  then we were ready to explore the garden-like grounds we enjoy so much.  These were, of course, simply beautiful.  It seemed everything was in bloom just for us.  We later learned that Rhonda had different things planted which bloom appropriately at different times.  We wondered around admiring the gardens and the surrounding natural beauty in which they were set.  Then we laid in the front hammock a while, watching the Autumn fall.  With each gust of wind, a shower of colored leaves danced their way down corridors of dappled sunbeams.  WHACK. . .  An acorn bashed me in the chin.  Was I startled.   After that we began to notice the steady bombardment.  Not too rapid.  A pop here.  A whack there.  Punctuation for the sentences written by the Fall displays.  In a bit we, got up and wondered a little more, then wondered upstairs for a nap.

I think I read Readers Digest more than napped.  'Wonder why I don't see more of those neat little periodicals.  Somewhere around four PM, we got up, made a little coffee, and went out on the front porch.  Shortly we were joined by first Rhonda, then Mike.  Both took time out of their day to visit a bit - even to ensure us they'd be there when we were.  I mean, they had Inn chores, and one of the reasons we had emerged from our cozy digs upstairs was to find some anniversary eats.  Carole and I had just had to go to the "Shack" again for a catfish basket.  I guess it's another tradition now.  Sometimes I sort of feel bad that I don't take Carole into town for a proper anniversary dinner.  Yet the catfish basket somehow seems to be about perfect. . . At any rate,  Rhonda and Mike were going to do chores while we were out, so that they could visit when we returned.  Shortly we departed for our Catfish.

It was only about 5 on a Tuesday but the place was mobbed.  Fortunately we caught a table just as some folks were leaving, got our order in and were dining on Jesseville catfish in no-time.

When we returned to Mountain thyme, we took up our post on the front porch.  Rhonda popped out occasionally and brought us some of Polly's famous cookies and a carafe of coffee to tide us while they finished their chores.  The cookies were delicious, of course, reminded me of acorns with one end dipped in chocolate.

§§§

Well...  Here it is, July 30th 2001 and I'm just now trying to get around to updating this episode.  Not that it matters much anymore.  Oh well...

All the above had been leading up to the grand exposition.  My mom had saved a good sized chunk of our wedding cake.  Which we inherited for this, our Second Anniversary.  This cake had been carefully maintained in cryogenic security in the paternal chambers of frost.  Of course we were delighted to receive the gift and carry it off for Anniversary festivities.  We ourselves maintained it's frigid status for some time prior to the trip.  Once we arrived at Mountain Thyme, Rhonda let us keep it in a real freezer.

After a while, we broke out the champagne we'd brought for the occasion and shared it all around.  Rhonda, and Mike, Carole and myself.  Of course, the chores we're finished for the most part for Rhonda, Mike and Polly.  Polly remained mostly in, as she was getting the kitchen together.  Somewhere about this same time, the Anniversary chunk of wedding cake was ceremoniously brought out.  We proceeded to extricate it, almost archeologically, from it's wrappings.  First, it was tucked neatly inside a plastic storage bin.  (I almost said "Tupperware.")  Then, carefully, it had been wrapped in aluminum foil.  Inside of this: plastic wrap.  It was thawed by now, but still well chilled.  Eventually, all the wrapping were removed and it was placed pertly in the center of a nice serving platter.

Time went by.  Of course, it was known to be a couple of years old.  My, how we tested the tact and social skill of our hosts...  No one, not even us, was without trepidation.  "Who's going to be the first," I'm sure, was the thought we all had in mind...  As we contemplated this, the icing began to slough off...  in a neat tubular role which circumscribed the delicacy within.  A few knowing comments were made and the edge was removed from the moment.  Carole did the slicing and, I believe, braved the first bite.  Then we all followed, seeing that she hadn't keeled over in a mortal paroxysm.   Actually, the taste was basically the same as it had been two years earlier (which was very good, indeed).  The texture, however, had suffered a bit in the temporal translation.  Hence, it took us all a moment to sift this sensory information through the mental processing sequence.  In other words, there was a moment when we were all not sure if we were going to spit the anniversary special from our mortal beings...  Or make conciliatory/complimentary remarks.  Again, once it had been determined that we weren't going to die on the spot, compliments went all round...

No one asked for seconds, though...

About this time, Polly, who had not accompanied us during the trial by taste, popped out.  Rhonda, still having a portion in her plate, dashed over before Polly could get her wits, shoving mouth-ward to Polly saying (something to the effect), "Oh, Polly, you simply must try this.  And only a fraction of a second after it had enter her mouth was she informed that this was "the" cake... 

I tell you solemnly...  never has one seen graciousness under fire triumph so marvelously.  We all knew that she knew...  but had not the benefit of our test.  But there was that split second where, on her face, mortal panic flashed.  Had we all not been watching her so closely no one would have noticed at all, before she recovered with the most marvelous composure. 

We all laughed as the last of the champagne disappeared.

The next day we were off to Devil's Den State Park.  Situated between Ft. Smith and Fayetteville, Devil's Den is touted as one of the premier Arkansas Parks.  I'm sure it is, but...  as you well see, a weeks worth of rain (foreshadowing) does wonders for premier status.

The drive up to Devil's Den was, of course, wonderful as Arkansas is truly one of the most beautiful States in the Union.  We started out, as usual, up Scenic 7 from Mountain Thyme.  Which wound us through the Ouichitas.  We were coming up on the turnoff for Petit Jean, so we decided to take a look.  I sure am glad we did.  Carole always has the best side trip suggestions!

Since daylight was precious, once we got to it, we took I40 West.  Then, north at Ft. Smith.  It was real pretty drive in.  Passing through Ft. Smith a drive through the country brought us to our diabolical destination...   From the direction we came in the entrance to the park had us winding down down down to, apparently "Lee Creek." 

I so love the rocks and trees.  Being Fall, the colors were beautiful.  The floor of the forest was already covered with a nice carpet of oak leaves.  Being someplace for the first time kind of has a magic effect on one too...

After wining our way down, we finally arrived at the ear-popping bottom.  The road directed us across Lee Creek where we explored the possible campsites.  We hit upon one to our liking and pitched camp.