take a hike: Devil's Den (part 1)

Well, it's that time of year again and Memorial Day weekend is upon us.  It stands for several things, not the least of which is the kick off to camping season.  I could--and maybe someday I will--write an entire book on my adventures in camping.  Some good, some bad, some I'd really rather forget.  One of the best, I mean worst, or at least one of the most memorable was the weekend of our fourth wedding anniversary.
Roo and I decided to celebrate with a romantic trek through the woods on our first overnight hiking adventure.  We invited the Kotschedoffs along as our guides and set off for Devil's Den State Park in Winslow, Arkansas.  (A little foreshadowing here--I now know where the park gets it's name.)
We set off after work on Friday, intending to camp at the car the first night, then backpack in and camp on the trail the second night before hiking back out on day three.  Since it was sort of a last-minute trip and our first backpack/hiking adventure, we didn't bother to reserve a campsite for the first night.  Upon arrival, we found the ranger station dark and empty.  While trying to decide what to do, a car came screeching into the parking lot and a woman jumped out frantically screaming, "My son is missing!"  A ranger appeared and calmed her down.  Apparently the son had been hiking and didn't check in, she thought he was lost, but I'm pretty sure they located him.  I think.  That should have been our first clue.  After that issue was dealt with, we inquired as to a place to pitch our tent since the campground was full.  The ranger directed us to follow the highway out of the park where we would find two pull-off campsites along the road that would be suitable for our stay.
Well, the "highway" turned into a gravel road just outside the park.  And the "campsites" were dirt paths where people just parked in the woods.  Creepy!  We pulled off at the first one and didn't bother to stop the car.  The second pull-off was less populated and a little less Deliverance, so we parked in the woods for the night, probably illegally trespassing on someone's private property.  Brent and Kristy pitched a tent while Roo and I took the back of the Element.  And since I was the only one hungry for dinner, I settled for a feast of beef jerky and gummy worms.
We woke up fairly early the next day because we wanted to grab breakfast at the park's restaurant before hitting the trail.  You know, get one last good meal in before busting out the trail food.  So we packed our packs and headed back to the main campground.  After consulting the weather forecast and seeing zero percent chance of rain, Roo decided to save eight ounces of weight and leave the tent's rain fly in the car.
We found the cafe, but were thirty minutes early for opening.  We used the time to explore a little bit.  The historic state park was built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps--the "Tree Army" of Franklin D. Roosevelt's New Deal.  There is a beautiful lake, campground, rustic facilities, and numerous trails to explore.  There are at least four caves in the park as well, but last I checked they were still closed to the public to prevent White-nose syndrome in the bats.

We took a few pictures by the rock dam that forms Lake Devil and made friends with a few armadillos before being treated to the best microwavable breakfast the cafe had to offer.  Don't go expecting anything gourmet here.  Then it was off to the ranger station for our backpacking permit and a-hiking we went.
Brent started out as our navigator.  We fired him after we took a wrong turn and ended up back at the trailhead.  (I know, those colored arrows are hard to follow.)  It got hot quick and two miles into our eight-mile (well--now nine-mile hike if you include our detour), I for one was ready to find a swimming hole.  Instead we found a wild raspberry bush.  While taking a break to pick and eat berries, a fellow hiker and his two kids told us a little of what to expect in our overnight accommodations.  The designated backpack camping sites are located on the bank of a stream.  The tent sites are pretty level with fire pits and there is a boulder in the middle of the stream--perfect for climbing and jumping into the water.  That sounded UH-MAY-ZING right about then.  We picked up the pace with a renewed bounce in our step, only stopping for lunch at the coolest pile of boulders that formed a sort of cave structure.  A few miles more brought us to our evening's destination.  It was indeed the oasis our trail friends had described.
It was roughly 4 p.m., the hottest part of the day, and the cool clear stream was calling our name.  We hurriedly pitched our tents and changed into swimsuits.
Aaaaahhhhhh!!!!  The water felt fabulous.  Did I mention it was the hottest day of the summer thus far?  The first day that year to reach triple digits.  Perfect weather for toting a 50-pound pack eight miles just for fun.
So we swam, we explored the stream, I scurried back to the boulder when I saw a snake, and we sunbathed.  Sun-napped was more like it.  And we spread our towels out on the boulder and played cards.  After the tenth or so hand of pinochle, I glanced up at the sky and asked, "Do those look like rain clouds to anyone else?"  Oh, no, they assured me.  There is a zero percent chance of rain.  Don't you worry about that.
It was too hot to even think about building a fire, so instead we fired up the Jet Boil and had a fine package of freeze-dried lasagna for dinner.  It actually tasted pretty good.  And after a long day of hiking we were all exhausted and retired to our tents before it was totally dark.  Not long after, we heard a group of four-wheelers approach the stream from the opposite bank.  We didn't get out to investigate, but the people sounded friendly enough.  I could hear them splashing around and talking from what I assumed was the boulder.  I wasn't worried until I heard one person say to the rest of the group, "We probably better head out before the rain opens up on us."
And then the thunder began to rumble...
(To be continued.)