Date of Visit: 17 March 2024
Ashdown, AR
62º post rain, cloudy with some wind
Park 25, I arrived at Millwood in the aftermath of a night’s good soaking rain. Driving in, I couldn’t help but be awed by the size and scope of the earthen dam (the largest in the state) that created Millwood Lake. Completed in 1966 by the Army Corps of Engineers to control flooding like so many of Arkansas’ lakes, the dam rises up out of the valley of the Little River. With the road into the park atop this huge mound of dirt, the drive in provides a spectacular view of the expanse of the lake and the surrounding forests.
Confronting another lake-based park, I stopped at the visitor center to get oriented and find out more about the two hiking trails I’d read about earlier. (While we fished a lot when I was a kid, I haven’t touched a pole in years and am not drawn to the hobby. I do hope to get onto some of the lakes via kayak but I’m waiting for warmer weather!) I knew the park held a short trail (1.5 miles) and a long trail (4 miles). Wildlife Lane Nature Trail, the 4-miler, held most of my interest, especially as it winds past a beaver mound. Sadly, the park staff told me that because of the rain the night before that trailhead might be impassible. Still hopeful, I took the brochure for that one and for the shorter, Waterfowl Way.
Both trails begin together at the old campground that flooded out in 2015 (we can try to control floodwaters with lakes and dams, but sometimes the water wins). Where the trails diverged, a low spot in the land, water greeted me in nearly every direction moving forward. Try as I might, hopping over puddles and rivulets, I couldn’t get past several large and deep pools to get to the open trail ahead on Wildlife Lane. Instead, I turned for Waterfowl Way, which in the end proved fortuitous. The trail led me along the bank of a nearby bog and then along one of the lake’s many gorgeous inlets. Not pictured here: the half a dozen fishing boats and their hopeful crews.
Glad I’d grabbed both brochures, I kept Waterfowl Way’s information handy as I walked, often picking my way at the edges of the trail to avoid standing water in the middle. I’m thankful whenever a park provides trail details and stopped often to read, look around, and absorb before moving on. Right around the halfway point, I walked around a blind curve and found myself looking at the roots of an upended oak tree. FYI: I love to look at upended roots. As I took in this tree where it fell, I first left the trail to crouch down and look closer because of the shelf fungi (hairy curtain crust).
I spent quite a while examining the intricacies of the patterns, getting nearly nose-deep in the stuff and taking more than a few photos. The looking deeply led me to discover a Carolina mantleslug hanging out in one of the bark grooves. Drawn in now, I ended up examining the entire length of the tree from the rootball to what had been the topmost branches. And at some point in that observing, magic happened. The lines of a poem coalesced in my head, and I started writing in my journal what would become “How to Fall in Love with a Downed Oak.” This was the very first time in the project where I actually started writing the poem in the midst of the experience of the park. As I said: magic.
My experience at Millwood proved again that I can prepare all I want in advance of these trips, but nature, weather, and my own body or emotions often change the plans once I’m on site. Letting go of preconceived notions has been one of the biggest challenges of this project. Oh, I’m going to X park, I’ll think. That means I’ll be writing about Y. Then, I get there and that’s not what happens at all. And thank goodness for that!
Given that Millwood is a lake park, I did end my visit by stopping at the marina to smell the fishy smells undercut by gasoline and engine oil. From the parking lot, I took some video of the wind pushing the lake into the rocky shore to capture that great lulling sound of water hitting stone over and over again.
Next up: Arkansas Museum of Natural Resources
