A Day at the Saint

On Saturday, Hubby and I made a run to the St. Francis. For those of you new to Critter Alley, we own a very small piece of property on that gorgeous granite bouldered river, and enjoy spending time there whenever  possible. What with the busy holiday season, and bad weather galore, it's been months since we've been able to check on things. So when the weatherman predicted Saturday as an in-between-all-the-snowstorms day, we took the opportunity to get things done at the river.

We were lucky. The temperature rose to over 32 degrees. What little snow lay on the ground (snowfall has been much lighter there) soon began to disappear.

The landscape is still dotted with many trees down from the terrible wind shears of nearly two years ago. We're slowly getting them cut and split. Santa brought Hubby a new chainsaw, and it got quite a workout. We won't run short of firewood anytime soon!

Winter dampness permeated everything. It took a little doing, but soon the first campfire of 2011 blazed warm as an old friend.

We burned leaves, brush, and scrap wood. The heavy smoky scent rolled through crisp air, reminding me of how good it feels to spend time outdoors again. Spring is one day closer.

But whether it's spring, summer, fall, or winter, the Saint always looks beautiful. Here's a few shots of her cold weather face...

As you can see, a critter or two used the snow covered frozen edge of the Saint as a pathway. It wasn't Indy. We left him behind. He's still not speaking to us.

Once daylight turned to dusk, we packed up our equipment and headed for home. Despite the stiff aches and pains of muscles that haven't been used in a while, we felt good. Spring is coming, and our day's ritual of preparation is the first step.

Lady Spring...I know she's lurking at the edges of all this cold, snow, and ice, watching and waiting to work her magic. I've missed her. How I'm looking forward to seeing that woman again!

Weekends Aren't For Wimps

The heat wilted us, but food, drink, and fun made the weekend worthwhile.

Indy rides shotgun to the river.

It takes more than a little heat to keep a good musician down.

Meet fellow canine camper Maggie Mae. Note the paper plate she lovingly covered with mulch in order to preserve leftovers for a midnight snack.

Can you believe such a sweet face could be so full of puppy energy and bitey face games that she nearly drove Indy crazy?

The only way to end a hard day's play.

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Memorial Weekend-Instant Replay

A couple of dozen of our best friends and Memorial weekend on the Saint Francis.  Here are a few of my favorite moments:

Fishing is always a popular activity.

What a whopper of a catch!

Oops! On closer inspection, maybe not so much.

We discovered this strange prehistoric beast on a granite perch.

After day moved into night, a potato gun war broke out. Heads up, all ye enemies across the river!

One sad little face, begging to be released from tent jail. Not to worry, she got to join the party later.

And it was a weekend to remember for another reason, too.

Though I have no photos (cameras and water don't mix), one of the weekend's highlights came on Sunday. The river was high and fast, so we floated the rapids. When we arrived in a calm area of the river a shout rang out,

"Bald eagle!"

I looked up and sure enough, a bald eagle flew about thirty yards overhead.  He circled above us several times as though trying to figure out why we were disturbing his afternoon meal hunt.

We gazed at the majestic bird, while he glided through the air for several minutes, until he dipped, swayed, and moved far away, becoming a tiny speck in the sky that finally disappeared from view.

We don't often see eagles on the St. Francis, so it couldn't have been more exciting to get the opportunity on Memorial weekend. This symbol of our nation is an amazing reminder of our country's freedoms and of those who made the ultimate sacrifice to keep us free. What a privilege!  

I can only hope that you had a weekend every bit as awesome as ours!

Dogs at the River

Brady in his crate. The sound of silence.

Two dogs traveled with us to the river. Indy is of course, an experienced camper. The only thing he doesn't like about camping are the times when he is crated. Then he sings a mournful tune for a while, just to let me know how he feels.

For the granddog, Brady, this was a new experience. Here are some things we learned about him:

1. He barks at fireworks.
2. He barks at thunder.
3. He barks when a car door slams.
4. He barks whenever anyone returns to the campsite (never mind that they were only gone for 2 seconds).
5. He barks at mowers, trimmers, and chainsaws.
6. Brady is a very, very good barker.

He's also a good eater. Beware leaving anything within Cairn Terrier reach (and that includes nose height while standing on hind legs). He nearly snatched an entire plate piled high with bacon. We rescued the bacon in the nick of time, so Brady contented himself with licking an unguarded pan full of bacon grease. Yum.

Dog crates provide the only break from constant canine vigilance. And by the way, here's a heartfelt salute to whomever invented the dog crate. It's the perfect way to settle an unruly critter, potty train a pup, and keep everyone in general de-stressed.

Hey! I wonder if the idea for a crate was born during a camping trip?

Weekend at the River

Food...the succulent centerpiece of every day.

Our weekend camping experience brought perfect weather (in the fifties at night--practically unheard of for July in Missouri), delicious campfire-prepared food (I did not overeat...ahem, okay, well, maybe just a little), and the company of a wonderful group of friends.

Our typical day at the river consists of a late breakfast/brunch accompanied by a spicy made to order Bloody Mary. Then it's a short walk downhill to the river where some folks fish and some get into the clear rushing water of the Saint. Hours later it's back up the hill (gotta get our exercise somehow, and that hill is steep!) for happy hour while dinner prep begins. Then a huge feast prefaces music around the campfire with musicians and singers aplenty. However, a night-time trip back down the hill is not unusual, either.

This weekend we were treated to a glorious fireworks display Saturday night on the river's flat boulders (compliments of one of our pyro-techy friends). Once the smoke cleared, we rested against sun-warmed granite to enjoy a sky filled with so many stars that they looked like a sequined blanket.

The critters were abundant, too. Fish (catch of the day went to our musical muse), butterflies, dragonflies, birds, squirrels, raccoons, and toads, to name only a few.

And then of course, there were the dogs. Tune in tomorrow for their adventures in Weekend at the River.

Thieves in the Night

If you're a camper, I'll bet that at some point masked bandits have visited your campsite during the night. They come with a specific purpose in mind...to steal your food.

Raccoons have been raiding campsites ever since they figured out how much more convenient it is to get a meal that's ready to go than to hunt the woods for dinner.
I can remember accompanying my daughter's Girl Scout troop on campouts. We were always strictly instructed to hang food high overhead on clotheslines to discourage raccoons. Of course the girls would much rather see the animals come in and feed because they are adorable and fun to watch. The Humane Society of the United States has an interesting fact sheet on raccoons.

Over the weekend, I left a few food items outside on tables. Next morning I discovered a new bag of chips that had been opened and devoured (whole grains apparently are highly desirable). They gobbled asparagus. They feasted on uncooked corn on the cob. One of them even tried to open a jar of peanuts, but the lid simply wouldn't come undone. As I cleaned up the mess, I had to laugh. It didn't take a Sherlock Holmes to identify tons of tiny pawprints.

Next night I purposely left out a big plate of grilled asparagus. The critters came in, politely ate it up, and didn't bother anything else.

I think our raccoons were appreciative of the gesture, in hopes of being invited again!

Weekend Warriors

Another picture from the weekend.

Dogs camping. 'Nuff said!

Come On Spring!

It's a cold and cloudy mid-February day. Though spring officially arrives next month, right now it seems awfully far away. We have a small place on the St. Francis River, and I've been thinking about the fun of an early spring weekend where we watch the river roll by, cook over the campfire (Indy loves that part), and just enjoy the beauty of the outdoors. Nothing like spring in Missouri, is there? I can almost smell the hickory smoke of the fire now.

Mmmm, I think it's time for breakfast!