ROCKHOUSE — A wet and icy wintry mix can be plumb palatable on a warm day on a beautiful Ozark stream.
While Friday wasn’t exactly balmy, it was the warmest day in two weeks and too good to pass up for a float on the Kings River, where the emerald currents were running strong and shining in the sun. There were also icicles to see, eagles to watch and the entire anatomy of the rock-ribbed landscape to admire through the leafless trees.
Such were the reasons paddlers like Scott Carroll, Terry Fredrick of Fayetteville and Greg Hastings of Ponca rate the winter season as one of their favorite times to float.
And relative to the Kings River, the stretch of nearly 16 miles from Marshall Ford to Rockhouse Creek ranks as one of the best runs along the entire river.
The stretch used to be most commonly floated in two parts of about eight miles each — from Marshall Ford to Rimkus Landing and Rimkus Landing to Rockhouse. Neither was floated all too often, but since Rimkus Landing was closed to the public several years ago, even fewer paddlers attempt the entire distance.
With the river flowing several inches over the low-water bridge at Marshall Ford on Friday, the relatively long run promised to be quick and easy. In fact, it would take less than six hours, including a lunch break and in spite of some headwind toward the end.
After dropping off a shuttle vehicle at the Rockhouse Creek access, we had headed for the ford carrying Carroll’s kayak, Hastings’ solo canoe and a 17-foot tandem canoe for Fredrick and me.
We arrived at the ford to find it shaded and cold with icicles hanging from its high overhanging bluff and ice still coating the trees beside the low-water bridge. Dressed in neoprene, fleece and waterproof jackets to ward off the morning chill, we greeted the setting with admiration and anticipation.
Besides that, a bright sun climbing over the hills promised to quickly bring warmth to a day forecast to reach 60 degrees.
UNDER WAY Setting off downriver, the first half of the float provided the opportunity to get reacquainted with a stretch first floated with Fredrick in the spring nearly four years ago. Back then, we had rated the stretch as the most scenic eight miles to be found along the Kings River and comparable to the Buffalo National River for the prevalence of bluffs lining the banks. The bluffs were everything we remembered and more as they reared to heights of about 300 feet and hung out over our heads. As described during that first float, some bluffs had smooth, sculpted faces of dark-gray stone streaked with colors of tan, cream and orange from water running off their rims, making them look like smaller versions of Ruark Bluff on the Buffalo. Some were “pancake” bluffs consisting of thin layers of brown and charcoal rock stacked up to 100 feet or more. Others were very irregular formations of pockmarked, cracked and creased rock in mottled colors of rust, gray and black. Topped with stunted pines and cedars, they tended to loom like rugged towers standing in a row. A few of the highest bluffs set back from the river bank and reaching into side hollows featured rock shelters and shadowy cavelike openings.
This time around, with the leaves off the trees, the bluffs were much more visible and even more interesting. The ones facing north and shaded from the sun were adorned with row upon row of icicles. On the ones bathed in sunlight, we regularly saw small waterfalls.
Boulders were common in the river beside the bluffs, and more often than not, riffles and strong current flowed along the bases of the bluffs.
In fact, relatively fast water is characteristic of the first eight miles of the stretch, where the river drops about 8 feet per mile, the course is narrow and winding and pools are few. As a result, we had to use our paddles mostly for steering through the tight bends and dodging the occasional boulder and overhanging tree.
Where trees crowded the banks, a great amount of logs, limbs and leaves had been pushed high out of the river from recent rises of 16 and 19 feet. The rises had not only removed a lot of obstacles from the river bed, but also had scrubbed the gravel bars, rocks and boulders visible beneath the green, clear water. We hadn’t gone far before a bald eagle flew from its perch in a tree ahead of us. It would be the first of 14 seen during the float. While seeing the eagles was a special pleasure, other wildlife sightings also enhanced the experience, such as a beaver sliding into the water, a young raccoon prowling the bank and a herd of deer splashing across the river. CHANGE OF PACE The most scenic part of the float seemed to go by too fast when we reached the halfway point
1 at Rimkus Landing after only 2 / 2 hours on the water. At that point, the character of the river began to change as the river bed widened and fields became more prevalent along the banks. I had first floated the Rimkus Landing-to-Rockhouse Creek stretch during the summer eight years ago and remembered very little about it. Given the width of the river near Rimkus Landing, I expected the final half to be slower with more long, deep pools, but it exceeded expectations.
The highest bluffs of 200-300 feet towered ahead. A few loomed beside the water, but more stood away from the bank and were studded with trees.
High and wide gravel beds became more prevalent, as well as trees crowding the river channel.
The long, deep pools and slow water, however, didn’t materialize.
Instead, we encountered some nice little rapids where the water flowed swiftly enough over gravel or fluted bedrock to create white water and standing waves.
More common were scattered boulder gardens, and most common were chunk-rock runs where the river narrowed and flowed at a good pace over rocks and boulders. Some of the runs seemed to stretch a half-mile.
Between the runs, riffles and short pools, Fredrick and I judged the lower half to be prime smallmouth habitat, and a stretch that doesn’t get much fishing pressure because of the distance involved. We never saw a fish of any kind during the float, but we were making plans to come back for an overnight fishing trip when the smallmouths come out of hiding in the spring.
During the first half of the float, our small flotilla had stayed close together, sharing a lot of conversation about the scenery. Along the final stretch, however, we began to fall under the spell of the river’s quiet solitude. At times, our two canoes and one kayak were spread out a half-mile apart along the river’s glittering course.
Toward the end, a gathering of five bald eagles in one spot provided the best wildlife-watching moment of the day.
We also began to face a strong headwind at times, forcing us to put some power into our paddling to maintain headway. Fortunately, a rapid or run with current strong enough to overpower the wind would come along before the paddling got tiring.
Despite being slowed some by the wind and taking a 20-minute lunch break, we still made the final eight miles in 3 hours, 10 minutes and finished the entire float in 5 hours, 40 minutes.
Didn’t even need our jackets the last three hours of a great day to be on a river.
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