Lanie Crossing Long Creek, Hercules Glades Wilderness
Taking advantage of a long weekend, we took Lanie with us on a three-day backpacking trip to Hercules Glades. Our plan was to map some of the western trails with the GPS, try to find the Spring we think Rock Spring Trail is named after, and show Lanie the falls.
When I lived in the UK I had an annual ritual of disappearing off on my birthday for a day’s navel introspection. It’s not something I’ve done since I arrived in the US, and it wasn’t something I had planned for this year either.
Plans change. Ginger and Lanie were booked to help out at Vacation Bible School, and Ginger was also committed to help out with Youth Group. Any chances of us both getting away for a day or two to celebrate my birthday were sunk without a trace.
Then we had the idea of me going off and sitting by a lake on my own for a couple of days. As we only have one vehicle, the logistics of getting me to and from the nearest lake would involve a couple of hundred miles driving. Momentarily stumped, I came up with the idea of going solo backpacking for a couple of days at Busiek It’s only 18 miles away so it wasn’t a big deal getting me there.
And that’s how I managed to end up swimming in a creek in the middle of Busiek State Forest on my birthday.
I was crossing the dry creek bed of Woods Fork when I noticed a couple of pools, so I decided to investigate further. I already had a theory that the creek was still running, but it was just running under the gravel and rocks of the creek bed. Sure enough I could see the water running into the gravel at the lower end of the pools.
The temperatures were in the low nineties and I was carrying a fair bit of weight so I decided to try the water. I found a reasonable sized pool, checked for snakes and had a surprisingly cold but refreshing dip.
It was hot, we were sweaty and walking along a farm road back to the trailhead to finish a three-day backpacking trip at Piney Creek.
A beat-up pickup went past. Nothing unusual in that as there are several houses further along the farm road, enough, it seems, for the road to be blacktop and not graded gravel. Anyway a few minutes later the pickup comes back and pulls up alongside us.
The incongruity of a backpacking Brit in an Ozarks forest giving driving directions to a couple of locals amused me.
In the pickup was a typical Ozarks hillbilly, fifteen or more years older than me, and a woman of indeterminate age. Like the pickup, they looked like they’d had a hard life. The woman had that painfully thin stature and a toothless grin that I’ve learned to associate with meth addicts. There were probably beer cans strewn around the cab, but I can’t remember such details. Let’s assume there were.
“Do you know the way to Shell Knob public beach?” These guys were 10 miles off target, but as it happened I knew exactly where they wanted to go, “Get back to highway 76, turn left. Then take another left when you get to highway 39 and that’ll get you to Shell Knob, in Shell knob veer left before the lake, and look for the signs.”
The incongruity of a backpacking Brit in an Ozarks forest giving driving directions to a couple of locals amused me.
Then came the killer question. “Do you know Pete Best?” Well, you have to be of a certain age and mental agility to make the necessary connections through culture, space and time to understand that question. “No, I don’t, but I do know who he is.” It appears that this guy served on merchant ships in the early sixties, spent some time in Liverpool, and had seen the Beatles in their early days before Ringo Starr joined them, and their drummer then was … you guessed it … Pete Best.
At this point the woman leaned out of the window and drawled, “I’ve never met anyone from England, can I shake your hand?” never being one to be impolite, I did so.
After a short chat they went on their way. I’ve no idea if they ever made it to the beach, and quite likely they enjoyed telling the tale of the day they stopped to ask directions from a couple of backpackers on a quiet Ozarks farm road and discovered a wandering Brit who knew who Pete Best was.
Early Morning mist on the lake – Berry Bend, Truman lake, Missouri
This was our view of Truman lake first thing Saturday morning. Wonderful. Ginger got a better picture of this, but I’m quite happy with this image.
As we had to be in Kansas City Sunday to pick up a group of youth group kids, we decided to drive up to Berry Bend Friday afternoon and camp Friday and Saturday. The campground is 100 miles nearer to Kansas City, so we could get away without an early start Sunday. Our plan: to get some R&R and time in our kayaks out on the lake.
You can read a full write up of our weekend and see a lot more pictures in our post on Ozarks Walkabout.
The Silver trail loops here – whichever way you go you’re going to end up climbing and descending the 300′ hill in the distance. We’ve never done this loop clockwise so today we decided to give it a try. Whichever way you go the slope is steep in places between almost 1:2 and 1:3.
Glades on the Devil’s Den West trail
Setting up camp off the Trail near Lower Pilot Knob, Hercules Gl
Enjoying a well-earned rest
Camped in the woods to the north of Lower Pilot Knob
Junction of the Devil’s Den East Trail and Pilot Knob Trail
Abandoned stone building, Hercules Glades Wilderness.Copyright © 2012 Gary Allman, all rights reserved.
Rock Spring – Spring Box
Pool below Long Creek Falls
Camped above Long Creek Falls – Hercules Glades Wilderness
Morning Coffee (and hot chocolate)
Gary and his morning coffee
Lanie in the dry Long Creek Falls
Gary and Ginger at the Coy Bald Trail Head
Lanie – second backpacking trip all done
