Thoughts on the Ouachita Trail

Well I’m back home in Eugene. What was supposed to be a six hour flight from Little Rock to Eugene turned into a multi-day affair with an overnight in Denver. But I got back safely. Just all part of the adventure.

“Great Mark, we’re happy you’re home, but what about the Ouachita Trail?” you ask. The real question is, “What about any long trail?” Well, it’s complicated.

What is it like to hike a long trail, one where your out for weeks at a time. Well, one thing is it’s exciting. The unknown awaits. There will be joys and there will be disasters that you have to deal with. And unlike much of daily life, your decisions will have direct consequences on your well-being. If you didn’t fill up on water when you should’ve, then you’ll be thirsty. If you didn’t plan for enough food, you’ll go hungry. If you don’t put up your tarp and it rains, you and all your gear will get wet. If you’re wet and it’s cold or blowing, you could get hypothermia. And if you get hypothermia you could die. Life can get very real very quickly when you’re out of the cocoon of civilization. That knowledge is both exhilarating and terrifying. Even when you’re hiking down the trail, moment to moment, you are making decisions about foot placement, which way to go, how to get around obstacles, and what is the weather doing at the moment. Hiking these trails, I find that I am fully engaged, almost all the time. Even getting to a camping spot, I have to set everything up, cook a meal, and all the other little things that need doing before I can crawl in the hammock and go to sleep.

For instance, the last night on the trail at Penny Campsite, I foolishly set up my hammock before really looking around. After it was hung, I noticed there was a giant dead tree leaning towards my hammock. If it came down during the night while I was in my hammock, it would probably kill me. But what are the chances? The actual chances are very small, but I knew I wouldn’t sleep very well worrying about it all night. So, I moved to a different spot 20 feet away with no threatening dead snags. And the next morning, when I got up, that old tree had not fallen. I would’ve been fine except I wouldn’t have gotten any sleep.

It’s that direct cause and effect when I’m out on the trail that keeps bringing me back. And every day on the Ouachita Trail was 100% full of engaging things and problems to be solved. Ok, grinding up a hill for a couple hours was not quite as engaging as crossing a river, but even in the grind I was making discernible progress toward my goal.

But this is hard work to walk a trail, even a shorter one like the Ouachita. It takes a toll on your body, but it also makes you stronger and more agile. I’ve got the usual aches and pains of a 74 year-old, but they fade quickly once I start walking. And if some of them don’t fade, I just ignore them. I’ve got places to go and things to do.

Then beyond the engagement, immediate consequences, and the physicality, there are the logistics. Transportation at each end and in the middle at Story had to be arranged. The need to figure out resupply strategies and the acquisition, packaging, and mailing of the same. Water was a top priority and I need to plan carefully before and throughout the trek to be able to have enough for each day. Every evening I would review the next day’s worth of trail. I needed to understand the elevation gains and losses, water sources, problems like fords or confusing trail junctions, etc. Sometimes, I had to come up with a Plan B if, say a ford was not crossable. This turned out to not be a problem, but I did have contingency plans for several fords. What I want to convey here is that these treks are not just a walk in the park. Not just waking up in the great outdoors and then wandering along a beautiful forest trail until I come to the perfect campsite overlooking the lake and a stunning sunset. Sometimes that happens, but often there is a lot of sweat and planning intermingled.

And there is this amazing satisfaction that comes with just staying dry in the storm, or knowing how to find water in an apparently dry stream, or even figuring out how to hang a hammock in a shelter. Why, is difficult to explain. This satisfaction is born of hard won skills that don’t even always work. Maybe it’s that element of chance that makes the satisfaction even better when it does.

The Ouachita Trail turned out to be more scenic than I thought it would be, more remote than it seems it should be, and as satisfying as it possibly could be. No snow capped peaks, or rocky crags, but some big pine forests, impressive lakes, worthy rivers, some darn nice shelters, and even a cute little stream. Occasional a grand view appears. Plus a three star lodge and Lori from Story. It was a demanding trail, but a fun trail in the long run.

Engagement, immediacy, physicality, logistics, satisfaction, these are few of the things that these treks provide in abundance. The Ouachita Trail was no exception. Another worthy trail which has taught me a little more about myself. Thanks for coming along!

Safe travels and Happy Trails…

P.S.- I will return to this blog next week as I prep for a bike trip along the C&O Canal from Cumberland, MD to Washington, DC , 185 miles, in late May. Hope to see you back here next week.