Trip Report - Ponca Wilderness Area

Friday - April 16th, 2010

Past time for another hike. Like most of them, this one started out with everyone throwing in eagerly. Our first drop-out happened because the initial trail selection would've necessitated spending too much time on the road juggling cars and not enough time hiking. Then we changed trails, but plans were made and five turned to four. The General is young enough and new enough to backpacking that we don't want to ruin him on it by taking him out in less-than-perfect weather. At least, not until he gets a few more miles behind him. The General's dad isn't too fond of hiking in the rain and low overnight temps, either. Which was a shame. We like his company and all, especially when he brings The General, but he also has a jeep. We needed that jeep.

That left me 'n Kat. By 4:00 Friday afternoon, I was inching through Springdale traffic and he was heading up and around by way of Eureka. Both roads converging on Compton, too eager to stop for dinner on the way down. Food tastes better when you're sitting on a log anyway.

I love this area. Getting there is so much of the beauty. Turned off the radio as soon as NPR started recycling the news, rolled down the window to breathe in the rain and new green. I could see dark rain scattering here and there over the hills and, you know, some days I like that more than sunshine. Still in work clothes, but the week was already starting to slough off me like dead skin. We ended up at the Compton crossroads within five minutes of each other and, after a few minutes of checking maps and memory, decided to drop one truck at the bottom of Co. Rd. 121 and leave the other at Centerpoint. We did the BRT from Ponca to Pruitt back in December, but this would be my first time hiking this side of Buffalo River. As the least experienced hiker this trip, I was content to follow.

It was eagerness and maybe the first spitting arrival of the impending thunderstorm that had us kicking up a dirt cloud down that road. Wasn't until we got to the end of the maintained road and a misremembered sign warning against any non-4x4s heading any further that we decided on the final itinerary change. Disappointment is the acrid stink of a burning clutch as your 4-cyl backs up that hill. Got turned back around, waved at the horse trailers that earlier pulled over to let us by, headed back to Centerpoint trailhead. Plan C, or were we at D by then?

Plenty of cars - which is always a mixed feeling for me. I love the wild as empty as possible of anyone but me, but then again, I do love meeting trail folk. Got out. Changed clothes. Made sure the keys are on the outside of the truck. Map, hat, staff, pack on. Go. Too happy to be outside and on the trail to care that it had already started to rain.

Ended up making camp a few miles down the trail in a well-used area where it splits off toward the Goat Trail. Had barely enough time to put up the hammock before darkness descended and the bottom fell out. Neither one of us hungry enough to cook in the rain. One last scan around camp saw Kat reading under his tarp. Zipped up the hammock to listen and sway. Still too early to sleep. Hard rain lasted only about an hour before it let up enough for me to get out and readjust the hastily misaligned hammock. Finally fell asleep listening to a chorus of young coyotes somewhere real close below us.


Saturday, April 17th

Any morning I wake up in a hammock is a good day. I tried to look and sound as comfortable and rested as I felt while Kat crawled out from under his tarp tent. I'll make a hanger out of him yet. Coffee. Breakfast. Clean up the area. Repack. Grabbed the cameras and tossed the packs behind a rock to pick up on the return. Goat bluff or Goat trail on Big Bluff, we couldn't seem to settle on a name but I just followed. It was worth it. Up and along, through and over. Canoe campers way down below us waving up. Looking down at birds flying past. Kat doesn't talk much, I'm more of the storyteller. Neither one of us had much to say that could compete with that view, though. Surely nothing I can write now that'll do it justice.

By the time we peeled ourselves away from the bluff, the morning chill had given away to rain that was light enough to be more ambiance than annoyance. Traded the wool cap for a wide-brim. Kat pulled on his rain slicker. Retrieved the packs and headed down to visit Granny's cabin. Wish they would've let her live out her days there, tending to what was hers. Wish someone would restore the place, occupy it. Homestead it. Maybe even a work-for-stay part of the trail. I would've chopped firewood or hauled up water for some breakfast or even a couple of minutes of morning reflection on a single-seater out back. Had a nice long tangent conversation about the possibilities of keeping something like that active, historical. Collective daydreaming about what it would've been like to homestead here a hundred years past. Long enough to take a wrong turn and end up, surprised and pleased, at Rocky Bottom. New for both of us and a great place to drop the packs and explore before backtracking to the right trail.

For all the cars, it was close to noon before we ran into anyone else. Lot of canoes on the river, folks heading up to Hemmed-In Hollow. On the climb up from the river, Kat tried to look as comfortable in his pack as I did coming out of my hammock. I imagine it won't be much longer before they talk me into retiring the old ALICE pack. I'm stubborn, though, and it does allow for some good-natured ribbing. Since it was my first time to this spot, I took lead. Customary with our group. Not even pictures do this place justice. With no other destination planned for Saturday, we took our sweet time hanging out around the pool with the mixed crew of canoers, dayhikers, and backpackers. Took pictures for some folks, let some other folks take pictures for us. Left the packs behind, grabbed the cameras, and tried to see how high we could climb. Made it up to the tree, then around the wall nearly to where the bluff turns up and around. Nobody can keep up with Kat when he's got his eye set on finding the top, so I waved him on and eased back down to the bottom. Made it higher than I planned, high as I felt safe anyway. When he found his own destination, he joined me at the bottom. One of those nice times when, really, there's nothing left to talk about. And that is all good.

Eventually we finished watching folks discover the hollow and headed back out. This was a much shorter hike than we'd planned, but wandering with time to kill is a great way to spend an April Saturday. Ran into a couple of horsepacker groups. Smiled and nodded from the side of the trail as a Marlboro Man, decked out in his best cowboy costume, told us the hiking trail was back over thataway. I love horses; I just don't much like horse trails. Soon the river was behind us. Ran into a couple of guys, looked like brothers, dayhiking down from Missouri. Visited with them outside of Granny's cabin while I took a water break then headed back up and out. Made it back to the first camp by 3:00, which was considerably early for stopping. So we stopped. Ate up the dinner we didn't make Friday night and the one we packed for Saturday. Got to play signpost for a couple of groups we saw earlier at Hemmed-In Hollow that were heading out to the bluff. Considered heading home, but since we already had spousal permission to take two nights - decided not to waste the opportunity. Besides, kids would be in bed by the time we rolled in. We made camp early. Picked one of the half-dozen or so fire rings and cleaned it up some. Made cocoa, tea. Waved goodbye to the dayhikers heading back to their cars. Listened to the coyotes start singing again, watched a rabbit tear through camp. Just enough fire to stare at while we talked about nothing much at all until dark.

Had a round of brief excitement right at dusk when one of the rocks in the firepit started shooting at us. It started out the size of a fat paperback book and, as it heated up, would cleave off in little half-inch thick slabs. Those would then heat up and explode, sending rock bits flying out of the fire whining like ricochets. We did some creative dancing before we figured out which rock was trying to kill us and knocked it out of the pit. There were enough charred hunks of similar stone scattered around the other firepits so that it looked like we weren't the first victims. Maybe that is why there were so many fire rings made in such a small area? That killed a good half-hour as we played amateur geologist trying to figure out what made it explode like that. (Found little pockets of scorched sand pocked along the fractures.) Eventually the fire died down, I scraped off the little flecks of stone melted onto my fleece pullover, and we called it a night.


Sunday, April 18th


Short hike out. Stopped in Springdale to gorge on breakfast and part ways. Home in time to get a shower before Momma and the boys got home from church. For lunch Monday, I'll end up eating a left-over half of a Cliff bar and the rest of my homemade trail mix.

It won't taste nearly as good.




Goat Trail along Big Bluff

Rocky Bottom


God's Bonsai far up along the rim of Hemmed-In Hollow



Looking down upon Hemmed-In Hollow

Outrider,

Well welcome to the site and I thoroughly enjoyed your trip report. I last visited this area back in the 70's right after the
area had been taken over by the NPS. Revived some good memories.

Thanks!

It's always a good time around in those parts.
Actually, I've been there twice in the last month via other roundabout ways and the difference in how green the foliage became is absurd! My ladyfriend and I were both at the mouth of Hemmed-In and it's feet yesterday(her first time back in almost 4 years) and had a blast - the explosion of wildflowers in the general vicinity is the best I've seen in a few years!

It is nothing short of amazing how fast everything down here has "greened" up! Hope the wild
Iris are blooming this weekend!

great shot of the infamous gnarled tree. Where does the goat trail drop you in? i've only made it down from compton(hell) and floating downstream to it.

The Goat Trail is a spur off the Centerpoint Trail(which can also get you over to Hemmed-In).
You can follow along a footpath cut out of Big Bluff for quite some way, which is what most people do and then turn back. You can continue down the hill to the ORT along the section parallel to the river's bend between Beech Creek and Jackie's Big Hollow. There is also a 'bear crack' or sorts along the Goat Trail to get access to higher areas...

excellent.

ouachita hiker wrote: Hope the wild
Iris are blooming this weekend!

I saw some crested irises along the spur trail to the Big Branch Shelter
on section 6 of the OT. They must prefer the lowlands of the creek bottom area.
Up higher I saw many other wildflowers but no irises.

John wrote:

ouachita hiker wrote: Hope the wild
Iris are blooming this weekend!

I saw some crested irises along the spur trail to the Big Branch Shelter
on section 6 of the OT. They must prefer the lowlands of the creek bottom area.
Up higher I saw many other wildflowers but no irises.

Along Short Creek (Caney Wilderness) they are popping up everywhere!

I've saw some both at the base of Hemmed-In and it's rim this past week.
Rocky hillsides and sandy, sloping soil along streams - lots of water but good drainage, which is probably why they are rare to see past late May...
It also seems they like a little more shaded areas, but that's something I've only recently started considering the last couple of years...

If you've never been to hemmed-in right after a big rain, you're missing out. The bluff is kind of ugly and the hike down is a bear when it's wet, but worth it to see the waterfall.

Very nice trip report Outrider!

great trip report and pic's