The White River

Last Sunday, after stopping to buy David his own kayak, the three of us paddled our way down eight miles of the beautiful White River, located near Eureka Springs, AR. We began up near Beaver Dam and floated down to the Houseman Access point where David had parked my Jeep and had gotten a shuttle ride back to where Joey and I were waiting for him. It was an absolute picture perfect early June day and it seemed a lot of other folks had had the same idea as we had about getting out on the water, with colorful groups of kayaks and canoes idling their way downstream. There were fly fishermen and "from shore" fishermen to dodge and wave to; herons, too many to keep count, watching us as we glided by, sometimes squawking as they took flight (they are truly remnants of dinosaurs) and there were two red tailed hawks fighting over a female high in the sky, locking talons with each other and free falling, pulling up only at the very last second, the whole time screeching at each other. 

This trip was a lot more fun than the adventure that Joe and I took the previous weekend where David thought it would be a fun idea for the two of us to float down a local creek. In David's defense, I think the creek would've been fun IF it had had more water, no barbed wire fences to contend with . . . or a herd of cattle deciding to cross the creek just a few yards ahead of us. How this family of mine gets into these kinds of scenarios is beyond my comprehension. It's just a way of life by now, I suppose. But the adventure my boys and I got to share this past Sunday more than made up for the Clear Creek outing. We laughed, played "Bumper Boats", stopped along the way to throw rocks and have snacks, dodged my camera (but I did manage to snag a few shots of Joe), explored little coves, but most of all we just enjoyed the peacefulness of the surroundings, the sun beating down on us and the sounds of our paddles dipping in and out of the water.

And that's what really matters the most.