EASTER ON THE BUFFALO RIVER

By Hulin Robert

On the twelfth day of April in the year 2001 Iguana Momma, Mimi Shark and Silverbear stacked three Mohawk solo 13 canoes on top of Iguana Momma's jeep, piled camping equipment and food to the ceiling inside and headed for the Buffalo River in Northwest Arkansas.

Arriving in Ponca at 7:00 AM on the 13th sleepy and hungry, they cruised the village a couple times but there was no restaurant to be found. The map indicated that Jasper 14 miles away would be a bit larger and would possibly have restaurants. It did.

After a hearty breakfast, they headed back to Ponca, found the put in and discovered that Burly Bill and Poppa Darryl were already there.

Before long the place became a beehive of activity. Outfitters were bringing down trailer loads of canoes; people were unloading gear and it seemed that the whole world wanted to paddle the Buffalo that day. Poppa Darryl had his waiver form out and was grabbing his people as they arrived getting them to sign their rights away. Burly Bill was expounding on the joys of white water canoeing to anyone who would listen. They started unloading canoes and gear. Mimi Shark, as energetic as a working bee, was trying to do it all herself. Iguana Momma and Silverbear let her.

Canoes were carried precariously over huge rocks down to the water. All gear was soon stored in place and Silverbear and Mimi Shark took off to arrange a shuttle. They had understood from Poppa Darryl that the shuttle would cost $25. each and were bemoaning the fact that that would take practically all their cash. When the nice lady at the store told Silverbear it would be only $20. for the car it was just like finding money.

The Buffalo River is a national scenic river flowing through the Ozark National Forest. Bright spring greenery was evident everywhere speckled with flowering dogwoods and redbuds.

Poppa Darryl signaled for the BHPC flotilla to start down river at just about eleven o'clock. The water was cold and clear. Burly Bill and Gentle Ann took the lead and expertly guided the group through the class I rapids.

The spectacular scenic beauty of the Buffalo had not been exaggerated. Rock cliffs towering two hundred plus feet above the water were breathtaking.

About one thirty when all signs of breakfast had emptied from stomachs Burly Bill finally found a lunch spot. Some had chairs others plopped on the sand. Lunch fare seemed to be anything from peanut butter and twinkies to sardines and kipper snacks. Chainsaw Dave passed around a jar of spicy pickled garlic.

After lunch the rapids became a little more intense. Ten-year-old River Peterson cruised through in his kayak like a pro, a wide grin on his face at the end of each. Not so Momma Robin, her sit on top dumped her in the cool water.

Iguana Momma, her double blade working furiously failed to miss a rock and over she went. Her dry bags were too full and the fold over was not enough to keep the water out and everything got wet.

Once more that afternoon Iguana Momma tested the water temperature. After this dunking everything was soaking wet. Finally Burly Bill picked a campsite and the unloading and setting up began. Silverbear was busily erecting his tent when he noticed hundreds of ticks crawling up the side. He looked at his legs and half a dozen were making their way up each leg. He quickly brushed them off and hurriedly got out the deet. This did the trick and kept them off him. Iguana Momma prepared a very palatable meal consisting of a mixture of refried beans, chili, ro*tel tomatoes and cheese served over tacos. They all retired early and fell asleep in minutes. Fortunately it did not rain because Iguana Momma had forgot the fly for her tent.

Saturday dawned cloudy and there was no sun all day. Burly Bill and Gentle Ann again took up the lead. Poppa Darryl and Schoolmarm Nancy brought up the rear as sweep.

Once more Iguana Momma decided to test the water temperature. After this the trip leaders distributed the contents of her canoe among other paddlers and that was her last mishap.

The threat of rain all day never did materialize but somehow there was the feeling that it was coming and there was Iguana Momma with no tent fly. Silverbear and Mimi Shark took his little dining fly and set it up over her tent. Silverbear had one of the aluminum poles for his tent break. Poppa Darryl came through with a sleeve and saved the day. Silverbear provided a spicy dish of Cajun rice consisting of brown rice, onions, green peppers, celery, tasso, peas and carrots.

That night the campfire lasted until ten o'clock however in deference to Vickie, twelve, and River, ten, the jokes were unusually mild. Scottish Dave threw in a few stories from across the Atlantic.

That night the storm came in at about two thirty AM. There was lightening, thunder, wind and buckets of rain. The fly over Iguana Momma's tent worked and she kept dry. Most tents leaked a little but not too much.

Sunday was a laid back day just as Poppa Darryl likes them. The flotilla started down river at about 11:00 AM. The rapids were milder and they didn't have very far to go.

Lunch was leisurely. Chainsaw Dave passed around the remains of his jar of spicy pickled garlic. Silverbear broke out his little stove and heated the leftover Cajun Rice which he, Mimi Shark and Iguana Momma devoured. Everyone was busily passing around cookies, chips and such things trying to get rid of all food before leaving the river.

Take out was reached at about 2:30 PM. True to their promise the shuttle people had all cars there waiting for the group. Canoes were quickly loaded and plans were made to meet at a restaurant near Jasper for dinner. After three days of camp cookery everyone feasted on restaurant fare.

After saying goodbye to friends, new and old, Silverbear, Mimi Shark, Iguana Momma, Poppa Darryl, Schoolmarm Nancy, Burly Bill and Gentle Ann headed to a National Forest campground about 50 miles south of Jasper.

Hot showers and a good nights sleep prepared them for the long drive home Monday.

On the way home Silverbear thought that the beautiful, fun filled Buffalo River should be a must for all paddlers.

© 2001 Hulin Robert