Stories of the Ozarks

The Osage Trail

The Osage Trail is a great ride for scenic beauty. It takes you through small towns, scenic countryside and mountain overlooks. In the fall and winter, bald eagles are prevalent around many of the hillsides and fields.

Ozark Moonshine Run

The Ozark Moonshine Run is without a doubt the most picturesque route in the Ozarks. The route encompasses parts of Scenic Highway 7 and winds through the deepest parts of the Ozarks.

My Daddy hung out in these Ozarks hills long before I was born...  It took awhile for the locals to warm up to him; if you can call it that. 

You see, in the 1950's, there were enough moonshine stills in these hills that any outsider was considered a possible ATF (Alcohol, Tobacco & Firearms) agent sent straight from the gov't.  There wasn't much room for "outsiders".

Still, my Daddy loved this area so much that after a time of gettin' to know the locals through fishin' the White River, occasionally they would let him into their "inner circles"...  well, a little bit, anyway.  Here's one of my Daddy's recollections from around 1950...  Hope you enjoy it.

I would love to find out more about the OZARKS. 

My Greatgrandmother came to the Ozarks in the mid 1800s on the trail of tears with her family.  She settled in Cabin Creek Area.  She was Cherokee/Chickasaw.  She met my Greatgrandfather a fur trapper who came to America as a 12 year old child from Amsterdam, Holland.  He fell in love with my Great grandmother and traded furs for her.  They lived in Cabin Creek in a log cabin in the Ozark mountains.  My great grandmother died 9 days after giving birth to my grandmother in 1910.  My grandmother was taken by her father to her native natural family who tried to raise her.  A white family came through in a wagon and homesteded a piece of land to farm nearby.  They heard of a half indian baby and came and took the baby to raise her.  She went to an indian boarding school in Cabin Creek, Ark.  I dont know the name, but would like to find out.  She got married at 15 or 16 to my Grandfather part of the Bullock/Benefiel Family and settled in the Ozarks on land that they farmed.  My grandfather had grapes, apples, chickens, goats, and all kinds of vegetables.  He also moonshined whiskey.  Alot of stories my grandmother told me about the Ozarks and the spooky ghosts she heard and her experiences.   She was a great story teller who will be greatly missed.  Myrtle died in 2006.    My family from my grandfather's side still lives in Lamare and the Ozarks.  Someday I want to visit there.  Thanks KR

I was working on a boat motor very quietly in the winter on Blackburns 170 ft. long dock.  There was no one around and it was very quiet.  I noticed a flock of black ducks around the dock but did not pay much attention to them.  After awhile I heard a swoosh  and then a lot of excitement.  I kept working on the motor an the same thing was repeated.  Again an again.  I looked up and saw a single black duck fly away and was impaled by a very large Bald Eagle.  It was the only one who decided to take flight.  It was fatal.  The rest of them knew enough to just paddle as fast as they could and head for Blackburns.  About a half an hour later the process started all over again.  I do not know if it was the same eagle since they are several winter right across the lake from Blackburns.  It was pretty cool.  I respected the brains of the ducks and at the same time knew the eagle would find one duck that would take flight.  It helped me to think that it was not very good to panic if you are a black duck.  I have also seen several osprey near Blackburns Resort Dock.  They are always in a tree eating a fish.  I guess that is why they are called fisher birds.  Steve

Gazing out my office window, I feel as though I'm immersed in my own butterfly kingdom. With the onslaught of June sun, our butterfly bushes are now as tall as the lower edge of our windows. Like the hypnotic trance one encounters when staring at a fish aquarium, I'm mesmerized by this view of a variety of Ozark butterflies to delight the eyes. Smaller varieties, like the Zebras with their turquoise colors banded by black stripes, frolic and drink from blooms next to my little corner of the universe. They're often accompanied by hummingbirds who flee from our sugar water feeders to seek a more natural taste. When these creatures leave, the larger swallowtails arrive at the table including the Tiger, Spicebush and the Giant Black Swallowtail. They drift and cavort in the glimmering buds until I'm almost lulled to sleep, so peaceful is their rise and fall ... like a baby's sigh during nap time. And once again, I'm reminded of the simpler pleasures in life and the glory of living in the Ozarks ... where time waits for the rustle butterfly wings and sunshine brings them back to me at dawn.

Blessings,

Writer Gal

Visit my new blog at: http://www.flyfishing4faith.com

 We drifted below our boat ramp in late evening enjoying the cool breeze across the water. Although our purpose was fly fishing, the trip became a wildlife tour as we spied our old friends, the Canadian Geese, both Mr. and Ms. with their new flock The goslings seemed undaunted by the sound of our boat motor and waddled along the river's edge searching for food under the vigilant gazes of Ma and Pa. Fly fishing soon forgotten, we focused our attention on their fluffy yellow feathers and their sweet innocence, as the fog coiled and whipped around us until they were lost from sight. There is more to this waterway than fishing. Sometimes blessings come in the smaller details and the gift of new life on the river.

My Dad wrote some notes about his life - most all of it spent near Flippin, AR in the Ozarks.  Thought I would put a few of his stories, in his words on this web site.  As told by Ike Linck (1919-2006):

 Dogs

 We always kept some dogs around the house.  Some I can remember their names, and so forth, and what they were good for.  We had one called Dash.  I think he was a Shepherd-Collie mix.  At that time we raised our own chickens.  The roosters ran outside with the hens, so the eggs were usually fertile.  Our breed of chickens was a dual-purpose chicken, called Rhode Island Red.  I know this has nothing to do with dogs in general, but Dash was a chicken protector.

 When the chicks were hatched, usually in the spring, they ran outside and were a favorite food of the hawks.  Ole Dash, for a reason I'll try to explain, would run around under the sailing hawk and bark.  I suppose it was because people sometimes ran around yelling and clapping their hands to scare the hawks away.  Anyway, he probably saved a lot of little chicks for us.  Eagles weren't saints either.  They have been known to raid even grown chickens.

Often when we sit on our campground and watch the river go by, I hear noises that sound like a huge boulder heaved into the water by a giant hand. My husband informs me that these noises are created by beavers slapping the water with their tails. However, I've always been a skeptic until a trip upriver last week. We decided to take our version of an afternoon drive. We launched the boat at our campground boat ramp and motored leisurely upriver to Crooked Creek. We didn't include any fishing gear. We just wanted to relax and let the river work its magic of soothing peacefulness After entering the mouth of the creek, we startled a beaver who quickly dove underwater and left us; or so we thought. Being more savvy about such critters than I am, Mike said, “keep watching, he'll come back.” Within a few moments, his prediction came true. Bucky Beaver surfaced again and slapped his tail in annoyance. And true to what had been reported, his shenanigans did indeed sound like a rock had fallen into the water. On the way back to our resort, a Canadian goose flew above us and stayed with us all the way as if leading us home. Briefly I wondered if he were a part of the couple who'd visited our campground several weeks ago (see Goose Gossip on the Angels Retreat blog) You never know who or what you'll encounter on our part of the White River; but you can be sure to see what you least expect.