Ozark Trail

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When I told my dad the news that I plan to hike the entire Ozark Trail alone, he suggested that I learn to safely carry and handle a pistol.

I grew up in the country, which means I grew up around guns. My brother and I played with BB guns, and later with his first .22. Ten years of life outside of rural southeast Missouri has made my gun-totin’ skills a wee bit rusty, but today I had a chance to brush up.

@StLCardsGuy asked me if I was going to shoot at a range or go to the country. “We go into the back yard,” I told him. (I’m a country girl. We don’t need no stinkin’ shootin’ range.)

The New Yorker in me was reacquainted with the rural Missourian as my dad and I trecked to the back of the property with a makeshift target and a handful of guns.

We were both suprised at how well I shot with the .32, especially considering that I’d never before shot a pistol. I hit near bullseye on several shots from 30 feet back. This is the gun I’ll carry hiking. Watch out, Big Foot, you’re not dragging this girl back to your cave…

We also shot a 20-gauge shotgun my dad has had since he was fourteen years old, a Taurus 9mm, and a 22 rifle.

The New Yorker in me wasn’t totally comfortable with guns before this outing, but I had fun shooting. It relieved some stress, and it was cool hanging out with my dad for a few hours.

NYC =0; MO=1

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I hiked 10 miles or so of the Courtouis (pronounced “Code-a-way”) Section of the Ozark Trail not too long ago (see spiders post).

The “guide” from Bass’ River Resort, where I was camping, dropped me off at a trailhead that was supposed to lead me 7.5-8 miles through the woods back to the resort.

Unfortunately, the trail description in my OT guidebook for the first few miles of the hike matched the landscape around me, so I thought all was well with the world. Among the geographic features of this section of trail were caves and 30-50 foot cliff faces.

Several hours and a gazillion spiders later, I realized I was lost. The trail ended at a wide gravel logging road, which I walked approximately two miles down before finding a road sign and realizing that I was easily 5-6 miles from where I started my hike, and another 7-8 from the camp ground.

Unprepared for hiking an extra 7-8 miles that day, I had no choice but to turn around and hike back to my starting trail head in hopes that Bass’ River would be doing a float trip pick up that afternoon along the river near my trail head.

So there I was, looping back down the same trail after hours in the woods, waving my stick in the air to swat away the ginormous Missouri spiders making their webs across my trail. My trail, darn it. I conquered that trail (even if it wasn’t the trail I meant to conquer). In fact, I conquered it so hard that I hiked it TWICE that day. Take that, y’all. Smalltowngirl Hiker Extraordinaire.

When I got back near the trailhead, I saw this cave (again), and couldn’t resist going off the trail to take a look inside (for all the spelunkering readers out there, I didn’t go far inside, and I didn’t disturb anything in or around the cave).

So here I am, thrilled to have found my way back to my trail head, and amused (for reasons only one reader will really understand) at the one-armed, self-portrait cave pic. Nothing makes you appreciate finding your way home more than getting really, really lost along the way.

Home Sweet Home, photo by and of smalltowngirl

Home Sweet Home, photo by and of smalltowngirl

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Yesterday, I took a long hike on the Ozark Trail’s longest section, the Courtois (pronounced “Code-a-way”).

Although I’d like to write an entire blog on the section of trail that I hiked, for now I’d like to show you some of the arachinids who were hanging out on their webs across my trail.

Itsy Bitsy Spider, photo by smalltowngirl

Itsy Bitsy Spider, photo by smalltowngirl

I don’t know what I was thinking hiking in August, but my hike was hot, humid, and spider-infested.

A few hundred feet into the trail, the spiderwebs started to become problematic. Over and over again, I felt their sticky threads wrap around my arms, legs, or face, and found myself swatting at the air like a maniac, trying to get the webs off of my skin.

I picked up a long, thin stick, which I carried like a sword in front of my body, trying to knock spiderwebs down.  Along I plodded, slicing my stick-sword through the air, a full-blown war waged between myself and these eight-legged creepy crawlers.

This gigantic spider, with a body well larger than my thumb, was intimidating. I didn’t want to make him mad at me, so I left his web intact and asked him to please not bother me as I deftly snuck beneath his web.

Big spider, photo by smalltowngirl

Big spider, photo by smalltowngirl

Spiders were everywhere. To say I saw hundreds of them is not an exaggeration. I saw red ones, black ones and gray ones; big ones little ones and itsy bitsy ones.

For good measure, I took a few shots of some daddy long legs, hanging upside down in a cave.  Daddy long legs are arachnids, although they aren’t techinically spiders. I thought this last shot rounded out my spider photo collection nicely.

long legs, photo by smalltowngirl

long legs, photo by smalltowngirl

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It’s easy to forget why we have days off. Memorial Day is an ironic day’s reason to forget, but still, there were headstones in the cemeteries we visited today on which no flowers lay. Were these people forgotten? Are their families no longer living? Are they simply too far away to honor the dead?

 

Madison County Cemetery, photo by smalltowngirl

Madison County Cemetery, photo by smalltowngirl

I wanted to brush up on my own Memorial Day knowledge, so I did a little research online. This story from CNN gives a concise overview of the history of Memorial Day. Take a look. 

Among other things I learned reading was that the Unknown Soldier in Arlington National Cemetery was identified as a St. Louis, Missouri-born pilot. The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier now lays empty, and the soldier is buried somewhere in St. Louis. I learn something new about my hometown and my home state all of the time.

 

Madison County Cemetery, photo by smalltowngirl

Madison County Cemetery, photo by smalltowngirl

 

My parents and I visited the cemeteries today where my paternal grandparents and maternal grandmother are buried. One of the cemeteries we visited was in Madison County, Missouri, an area hit especially hard by the May 8th storms. 

We drove through Fredericktown, a town that I spent a good deal of my childhood in, and I was taken aback at the damage remaining even now, more than two weeks after the storm. More on that later.

 

Memorial Day Cemetery, Madison County, MO, photo by smalltowngirl

Memorial Day Cemetery, Madison County, MO, photo by smalltowngirl

For now, I’m thankful to be back in this small town, where I was able to go with my family to honor my grandfather, a WWII veteran, and my grandmothers. I’m thankful that my brother, my grandfather, and so many more like them who have made careers of service. I’m not very patriotic by nature, but I realize that without our military, this would be a very different country to call home.

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