DEVILISH

Early tomorrow morning Big Bore and I are taking off to Devil’s Den State Park, south of Fayetteville, Arkansas, for an overnighter. We’re staying in a cabin there that was built by the Civilian Conservation Corps back in the 1930s. I “discovered” Devil’s Den for myself about 20 years ago.

The park got its name because to get there one has to drive down, down, down a spiral road in the Boston Mountains. At the base is a creek, store, campground, cabins, and a bunch of hiking trails. My favorite one leads up to a dark bat cave than can be explored with a flashlight. It’s a fissure cave, narrow and long and damp, and eventually one must crawl or turn back. Cavers must watch where they put their hands on the walls or risk having a close encounter with a clinging brown bat. They sort of look like rats with wings.

Now, Big Bore is a gung-ho hiker, but I’m not sure how far I’m going to get him into this cave. I think he’d much prefer tromping along in the wide open spaces, but I’m going to try to get him to squeeze on through--even if it takes a little prodding from behind. I’ll just smile sweetly and say, “The Devil made me do it.”