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Unofficial Report, by Brad Birchfield
The events below are written for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant, nor implied to be the God's honest truth. No names have been changed to protect anyone. If you are offended by something, then i figured I did my job right! Have fun reading this over the next hour and a half. So the thing on the internet said Brock Creek Lake. I did some viewing on Terra Server and decided bringing the boat would add a new dimension to the fall field herping trip. I mean, on the internet, it said there was a boat ramp. Well, after about 2 and a half hours of taking the scenic route through the national forest, me and jeremy were looking out across a glorified mud hole that used to be Brock Creek Lake. This was the first (well, actually if you count getting lost, being late, having to go to the bathroom, no one else showing up, and other problems, I guess it wasnt the first) of many issues that were coalescing into a disatrous weekend. So as the sun was creeping ever so quickly down across the surrounding mountains, me and Jeremy finally located Brock Creek Lake campground. As we were pulling in, there was a truck pulling out. Jeremy (in his own vehicle) stopped and talked to the driver of said vehicle and it turns out he was there for the herping trip. Good for us, at least there would be 3. If it was just me and big J, people might talk. So, we assured him (turns out to be Jonathan aka mountainman from ASU) we were at the right place. Since we were the first to arrive, albeit late, we picked a campsite that looked group friendly and promptly dumped off my boat and Jermys rig. Since I had recently aquired a Gadsen flag(look it up) on ebay for .99 cents (but $7 shipping), I made a makeshift banner to identify this as ground zero for weekend herping. The only other folks in this campground were a husband/wife (we assume, perhaps they were just LOVERS) team that had dirt bikes. Right off the bat, he was real helpful telling us that not another soul had been near this place in about 3 days since theyd been there. Then he started talking to us more and more, offering us maps, and all kinds of useful advice. They were classy people as they drank wine from some nice little glasses. Definitely not locals. Speaking of localsI will refer to him as brother don, this short stubby guy with a beard pulls up in the next campsite not too long after wed arrived. He seemed real friendly tooas he got out, I did my usual make a fool of myself routine of hollering to him hey, you hear for the snake thing?. He looked puzzled and said, no, Im going deer hunting. Well, he comes over and starts BSing with us and the french couple (they were classy folks) and their wine. I have to say, I was expecting the standard line from him (snakes? Oh I kill everyone I see) but as it turned out, he was real nice and interested in what we were doing. Basically had the live and let live mentality, which was refreshing to see, because he was pretty much a local. I noticed his hat said something like the booger hollow holiness church or something (hence the brother don reference), so I was trying to watch my normal foul language. Then I thought he might not like a bunch of folks gathering and enjoying the barley & hopps in the campsite right next to him. As me and jeremy were leaving to rendevous with the gator girls (see unofficial review of AHS St Francis NF field trip), I told Jeremy, I think hes a baptist, so he might not like us drinking tonightto which Jeremy replied but hes alone, so if hes a baptist, hell surely join us!. It was funny enough that I thought it worth mentioning. So, we left Jonathan alone with my boat and Jeremys truck/trailer/4wheeler and headed toward Choctaw. (some of us sissies have to have a flush toliet and a shower for an extended weekend of herping). Lets take inventory at this point. It took us FOREVER to find this primitive campground in the DAYLIGHT with maps and directions. The only person there was a new guy from Jonesboro who probably wondered what was going on. We are so far out of cell phone service, a 911 call would take about 2 days to respond to. I hadnt eaten anything but some trail mix that morning.We thought camping at Choctaw campground would just be a hop, skip and a jump from the official campsite and we were in real danger of getting lost trying to get there now. All in all, I told Jeremy there was no way this weekend could be anything BUT a disaster. How wrong I was. When we arrived at Choctaw campground, grandpa at the gate gave us what for, because we didnt have our window tag, but after he figured out the girls had taken care of that (from his wifes scolding), he decided to let us pass. When we arrived, we were only about 2 &1/2 hrs later arriving that what I had estimated, so the ladies were not amused. At this point, I expressed my logistical concerns and that we might be having a herping for four weekend. At this point, I called Kory on the cell phone(at least we had signal) and he confirmed that he was enroute, so that reassured me somewhat. After quickly throwing the tents up, Jeremy, Erica, Cyndi and myself were headed back west to see if anyone else found the campsite. After the 1 hr ride from our modern campsite to the official campsite (yes, that was a 1 hr ordeal), we pulled into a campground transformed. Instead of poor Jonathan sitting there in the dark by himself, I quickly recognized that either there were a lot of hunters, or most folks had made it. Then, when I noticed the mini tent-city the Chapmans normally bring, I knew it was the latter. We didnt read our messages very close and assumed that Tory was cooking dinner Friday night too, but that was not the case. But in typical mother hen fashion, Tory had stuffed a delicious sandwhich down both me and Jeremys throats before we could whine too much. Thanks for that one! In our haste, wed left all our food in the campsite at choctaw. So with folding chairs in arm, we all gathered around the campfire for a night of story telling, revelry, and good conversation. Some took part in the revelry more than others. Among the attendees was Josh and Melissa, Ashley (unless shes changed her name, Melissas sister), Kieth Whalen (Keith works for the Forrest service), Marisio (from Costa Rica, working on his PH D at ASU), Glenn & Torry Chapman, their kids, Amy and her kids (Glenn & Torrys neighbors) and the others Id mentioned earlier (Me, Jeremy, Cyndi, Erica, Jonathan). And just about the time we were starting a pool of money betting on what time our beloved Webmaster would arrive, we see the lights of the yellow Exterra pulling into the campground. Some of the group (Josh E, Marisio, and Jonathan) had already made a sweep of the lake and captured a juvenile cottonmouth. I really dont use the word cute much, especially for venomous serpents, but this little bugger was about as long as a half-used pencil, big around as a 45 ring cigar, and fiesty fiesty. If it wasnt for the necrosis, vomiting, and excruciatiing pain, it would have been tempting to just pick him up. It would be one of 2 captured at Brock Creek Lake. The next morning after a refreshing HOT shower at choctaw and a steak,egg & cheese brefast burrito from sonic in my belly, we arrived back at the main campground. As we pulled in, we were happily surprised to see Debo and her husband Cooper had joined the group. Always thinking ahead, Kory had us gather round ye old AHS banner for a group photo as attrition takes its toll as the day drags on. I am not certain, but I think this may have been the most attended field trip yet. Weve come a long way, baby. After photos, we split up into 2 large groups, one went north of the dam, and my group went south. Not 10 minutes into our flipping efforts, I heard the oh-to-familiar calm voice of Keith say heres one. He reached down and picked up a gorgeous triangulum from under a flat rock on a steep slope. I dont know what it is, but I have the milksnake curse as I have never found one in the wild. A short time later, Kory and Jeremy found a good sized speckled king in a rock pile, along with multiple shed skins. Keith and I did manage a little adventure too. Below the dam, there was a 4ft pipe that protruded from the ground. Since the lake level was so low, Kieth and I dawned our head lights and walked in. I must say, if you want a good hamstring workout, just bend over at the waist and walk about 100 yards. Mine were on fire when we finally decided to turn around deep inside the dam. On the way out, Kieth advised me that he found a bat in a ceiling crack in the pipe. That was all I needed to speed my departure from the cave. Daddy dont like bats. Up the creek (if you can call it that) that feeds into the lake, Erica found a county record Fowlers toad. Kieth, with his herping mojo, turned over a rock to reveal a juvie plainbelly watersnake. It was kind of funny too, although Kieth likes to go herping, he is more of a fish expert, so when he saw the snake, he wasnt sure if it was another juvenile cottonmouth or a water snake, so he waited for one of us snake nerds to positively ID the little guy. At camp, we met back for lunch and specimen photos. The other group (Josh, Marisio, Jonathan, Debo, Cooper, Glenn) turned up some nice finds too. A hognose, a red belly, a worm snake, a dead rough green snake, among other things. They even managed to find 2 slimy salamanders in this horribly dry location. One of the great things about our group is that everyone is just so excited about these animals and love to share their knowledge. My group had ran into a big group of dirt bike folks on their motorcycles, and of course, they thought we were picking up trash until we told them what we were up to. Well, about the time we started taking specimen photos at camp, one of the motorcycle guys pulled up and got a free snake show. It was nice seeing someone interested in these animals instead of interested in killing them. I think he was especially impressed with the show the hognose put on. I think at last count, he had died about 8 times. Anyway, I guarantee you that guy wont kill the next snake he sees. The afternoon herping was not quite as productive. The combination of not being familiar with the terrain and the afternoon temperatures were enough to disuade anyone from continuing, but the hardcore team would not relent. Poor Glenn had to stay at camp and watch the kids, but I think he had some adventures of his own on Jeremys 4-wheeler. One stop of interest was another lake on downstream from Brock Creek Lake. It seemed to have more water in it, so me, Cyndi and Erica dawned our waders and struck out into the foul smelling muck around the shore. Cyndi and I had no more than stepped into a 3ft deep channel when I noticed something between us with scales on it. It was strange, because it was partially submerged, and not moving. With my tongs, I gently lifted it out of the water, only to reveal a healthy adult cottonmouth. Cyndi and I were both pretty excited, but Cooper saw something slithering in the grass away from the muck we were in, so the whole group just abandoned us. Pretty sad day when an adult cottonmouth doesnt even get anyone excited. And to top it off, the rest of the group never even captured the phantom snake. At least Cyndi thought the cottonmouth was cool. As the three of us kept slogging through the nasty water, Erica erupted in a stream of profanity that would have made andrew dice clay blush. Neither Cyndi, nor myself had any idea what had happened at first, but apparently, Erica had noticed a snake in the water right where shed planted her boot. As I surveyed the situation, I saw something dark and slithery take off like a rocket towards open water. With a quick grab of my tongs, I pulled another adult cottonmouth out of the water. I am not sure who was more shook up, the snake or Erica. Kory had noticed that the location of this lake was in Conway county, and there were not many specimens on that list to voucher. (seems like someone in my truck was awful sure there was QUITE a list of unvouchered species in conway, but I think that person was looking at the wrong list!). With that in mind, we abandoned the lake herping and headed back to find some rattlesnake habitat. Jeremy was our navigator for this next chapter of the trip. He noticed a kincannon mountain or something like that, had some steep inclines and a south/southwest face. The problem was, the road that went up the hill was not even a good 4-wheeler trail. Throwing all common sense to the side, I drove my 2wd ford up the narrow goat path, just praying that I wouldnt loose my oil pan, or drive us all to our death. Kory followed close by in the Exterra, which was made for such nonsense. At the top, we found the sweet spot for herping and we all disembarked and headed into the woods. The next hour was filled flipping, poking, and looking in every possible spot for a rattlesnake, but I think all we turned up was the 87th fence lizard sighting. Speaking of sightingswhen we left the truck, Erica decided it would be a good time to break off from the group for a much needed bathroom break. She rejoined us a short time later. When we finally finished, we stopped at the truck and as we were all taking a much needed water break, a hunter approached us from the nearby woods. Like, REALLY nearbyhe said he was watching a bear cub watch us herping. Uh huh. Right.thats exactly what I would have said if I watched Erica go tee tee from my treestand. I am convinced he just wanted to get a closer look at her. It was also about the first time we had any semblance of cell phone signal too, so we all called our loved ones. I have to admit, I gave sweety the cliched honey, dont worry, I will be fine, but I got bit! routine, which worked like a charm. Of course, she was probably just thinkin of what insurance would pay due to my demise. After that, it was just about dark, so we gave up on herping with Torrys spaghetti becoming our next focus. Now folks, I was skeptical when she mentioned spaghetti for a campground. I mean, there is boiling, sauces, forksa lot of extra-curricular things involved. But I have to say, not only did she pull of the spaghetti, she even made garlic bread toast on the freakin campfire. Glenn must have one hell of a metabolism to not weigh 300lbs. Olive garden gots nothing on torry chapman. I know I speak for all by giving her a resounding THANK YOU! I hope everyone remembered to donate to the tip jar so torry can continue feeding ME on future trips. If you didnt, I am sure theyll take a donation via the US Mail. Nothins free man, nothins free. Well, after that, campfire conversation part II picked up where it left off on Friday. About 9 pm, we were running dangerously low on libations, so we nominated Keith to drive jeremy, cyndi, erica, and myself to center ridge (about an hour away, everything is an hour away from this place!). We got there just as the place was closing but they let us in anyway. So with new energy and a cooler full of miller lite, we headed back, anxious to really let our hair down, but when we finally got back, all that remained was Glenn, Tory and Josh. Well, we didnt let that stop us. The next hour or so was spent talking about drinking games, watching jeremy play drinking games and the rest of us realize just how tired we were from the days adventures. I guess we missed out on the highlight of the Saturday night fireside chats- Glenn, Tory and Josh all said that Marisio told them some tales of the supernatural from Costa Rica. Well, apparently Marisio scared the BJESUS out of all of them. They tried to relay the stories to us, and I have to say, they were interesting if not scary. Something about archeology digs, buried bodies, skulls, lightning strikes, religious ceremonies to please the Godslike I said, I wasnt there, but you can bet I will be begging marisio to re-tell the stories at the next trip! The next morning, camp choctaw slept in a little long, and by the time wed made it back to the official campground only Kory and Keith remained. But that didnt hinder us from making another pass along the dam and into the woods around the lake. As I recall, we SAW a large racer (they dont call them racers for nothin), Cyndi flipped a DeKays/ground snake, another county record. I managed to nab a large black rat snake(dont even start on no its not, its a WESTERN rat snake). In the woods, I found a 3 toed box turtle. By that time it was about 2 pm, and we all grudgingly put our tongs and hooks down and headed back to the real world. So with the opening strumming of rocky mountain high playing on the XM, I pointed my truck west, and headed back. Overall, despite all the initial stumbling blocks, this trip went over great. We found a great diversity of reptiles, had good conversation, great food, I guess finding an atrox would have made the trip better, but even that is debatable. Thanks to all those who made it possible. I swear, everytime you leave one of these things it feels like leaving summer camp without signing someones tshirt with a magic marker. I am starting a countdown for april. See you there. |
