Camping, Canoeing, and Roasted Watermelon in Arkansas

July 14, 2001

I left Virginia on Thursday July 12, 2001 and returned July 16 tired, bruised, 1,500 miles added to my car, and pumped from such a great weekend. We got to Woody's campground which is between Pocahontas, AR and the Missouri border Friday afternoon. Some old buds came, and I met a couple new people too. We had Kenneth, Jeb, Devin, Mike, Memphis Jeff, Cookeville Jeff, Rick, Pokey, Greg, Sonny, Dave, Dave S., and the dogs, Bailey, Pearl, and Harper. After getting the tents set-up it was off to the river, the rope swing, and swimming. I had stopped and bought an Arkansas fishing license but only caught one small one. I'm sure it was because of the swimmers and dogs playing in the water nearby. <grin> Everyone spent the night swimming, drinking beer, catching up with friends, playing in the fire, and having a generally good time.

Saturday morning Woody took us 19 miles up the Eleven Point river into Missouri where we took the next 7-8 hours canoeing back. My bud Mike and I were in a canoe with a full cooler and his 2 Chocolate Labs, Bailey and Harper. The dogs were a little rowdy at first, but playing with them in the water wore them down some eventually. The problem was that all the extra weight tended to make us drag when the water was shallow. We had to get out a couple times and rolled over twice, but it was all fun. The second time we spilled we were going over a small falls and got caught on a rock. Everything went down the river, cooler, paddles, dogs, Mike, and me. We found everything, and except for Mike busting his hip, me busting my knee and arm, and a few other cuts and bruises, all we suffered was a blow to our pride :-) We drug into the campground at about 5:00, tired, had dinner, and tried out the rope swing a little more.

Woody's campground, well, to be direct, is a dump. It attracts all kinds of people. Not to play to the stereotype of the great people of Arkansas, but we had some interesting visitors Saturday night. Jackie, Judy, Rosalee, and a couple others dropped by to invite us to some picking and grinning at their campsite later on. Somewhat wasted drunk, these fine ladies were a vision of a bad Bill Clinton joke. Dental hygiene, smokers lung, bad tattoos, and much too overstuffed bikinis are just a few thoughts that came to mind. Anyway, they were telling us something about the singing, hitting on some of us, and a couple kept playing with Dave's nipple rings, when something was said about roasting watermelons. Dave told them that if you put a watermelon on the fire that it would explode, then you went and picked up the pieces, and had roasted watermelon. Not being the shy quiet type girls, I'm sure the whole campground heard the screams and shouts of BS. It wasn't long before Jackie told us we were "Watermelon Roasting Mother F_ _ _ ers." Of course except Dave. One girl said, "As soon as I seen him and looked into his eyes I knowed he won't no watermelon roasting mother f_ _ _er." We had a good time talking to the ladies, but eventually they had to move on to go burn a picnic table. A couple of us did go down to the singing later. It wasn't bad. Judy had a pretty voice when she wasn't shouting explicatives. I think we all could have gotten lucky. A couple of us were even told as much, but as you can imagine, there wasn't a lot of interest on our part.

Sunday, everyone hated to go home. We had a great time. Canoeing, camping, fishing, and cooking over a fire are not the usual gay guy things, and it seems that times spent with like minded guys comes too far in-between. For sure though, next time I'm checking out some hottie in Wal-Mart, I'll first look into his eyes and make sure he ain't no watermelon roasting mother f_ _ _er.

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