While it was still raining, we pitched up our tents inside of the barn on the second floor loft (accessed by an old, sketchy ladder) so they could dry and hung up our drowned sleeping bags wherever there was room. A band of guys set out to find the canoes and rescue them from the river. I remember hearing that they took turns diving below the water to cut the ropes that the canoes were secured to, so they could be set free and brought up the gravel road to the barn. One of my friends came back with his teeth chattering, lips blue, shaking from head to toe. We recognized the signs of hypothermia and the guys who had remained at the barn helped him out of his wet clothes while the rest of us dug through our bags to find dry clothes and warm fleece jackets that would fit him. It was interesting to see how the experience of the flood wasn’t driv ... Read More »

 

It was a grey, but warm day as 32 college-aged students set out on the Buffalo National River in Arkansas. They had loaded their canoes earlier that morning with camping kitchens, food barrels, tent packs, and their own personal gear. The Destination: Mt. Hersey. Everyone called it “Mt. Hershey” instead, and they dreamed of a campsite with shady trees and grassy slopes.

 

The camp site was not what they had imagined in the slightest. It was a lumpy field with random patches of long-ish grass and bald spots that cracked and oozed with mud. After dinner was cooked and served, they had a community meeting where they decided to paddle hard the next day, some 30 miles, down to Tyler Bend (a luxury campsite compared to the field of mud they were currently occupying). Besides having nicer accommodation, they ... Read More »