Peace on the Buffalo

In the Ken Burns National Parks series I was struck by the stories of Stephen Mather, the first director of the National Park Service. The documentary focused on what the parks meant to Mather and how he saw them as a place of solace. I have always felt at peace on the many backpacking trips throughout the western parks. Some of my fondest memories come from shared experiences in these places. However, all the majesty of western parks always felt a world away to my mid-western background. I explored the mountains, valleys and deserts not as a native mountaineer, sheepherder or desert rat but rather as a flat-lander in a spacesuit.

This brought me to hike thirty-six miles along side the Buffalo National River in northern Arkansas. The Buffalo River is one of the over two hundred rivers managed by the National Park Service. National Geographic did a good summary of national rivers in their November issue. Hiking near the river allowed me more than just another opportunity to see a beautiful part of the world. It felt like a homecoming.

The Buffalo River Trail offered me an opportunity to experience a stretch of backpacking right in the Ozarks, an area that extends into my home state of Missouri. It is hard for me to think of an area that is quite as overlooked as the Ozarks. The Ozarks is more likely to be known as the setting of Winter’s Bone than as an outdoor destination. However, the magnificent limestone bluffs and creek beds that were part of my childhood are some features that I always find myself missing when I am away from the Ozarks for long.

I have always been drawn to backpacking for its ability to whittle away all of my concerns. A day on the trail is one spent focused on a goal. One mile after another I see my progress develop. Miles must be earned and in this time of year protection from cold nights creates a clear set of priorities. The achievements are earned with each beautiful vista, sound of running water and tree turned friend. The Buffalo National River’s many waterfalls, springs and caves provided more than the peace that comes from being outside. They provided a meaning for existence.

A year past college graduation I face sources of stress familiar to most everyone in my age group. Complete with concerns about jobs, family, and the future. This hike through the hills and hollows northern Arkansas for the first time in my life allowed me a place of refuge from my day-to-day mental geography. The concerns over rough terrain, constant rain and the cold were the most pleasant of concerns imaginable. The complete control over each step I took felt like an experience I had not had in over a year. The experience transcended the awestruck beauty of so many hikes I have taken and became simply therapeutic. In finding the same use Stephen Mather so dreamt the parks could provide to the nation, I felt one step closer to understanding my heroes of conservation all these years and many iterations later.