The first day was consumed with settling gear and getting our sea legs under us.  We traveled separately using the accelerated flow to make short work of the miles that slipped by.  The sediment carried downstream by the current had an effect on the bottom of the canoes.  Swirling underneath our feet it made a sound like that of a soda or beer with a small hole in the can leaking in the cooler.  With my loss of high frequency hearing (thanks Ted Nugent) it never bothered me and I had to listen close to even hear it.

        The only highlight to the first days float was a wave train just below the Rush campground.  6 to 8 waves 2 foot high or so made for  a bit of excitement.  When the river is that wide and flat you live for what you can get.   When you look at the map of the river in that section you will see what they call the Duck's Head outline starting just below the Buffalo Point campground.  We made it to the "bill" of the duck head the first day.  Although it was early to stop, the beach campspot was too good to  pass up.  We pulled in downstream of the point and lined the boats back up to the point of the bill. 

         The beach is gravel at the rivers edge but fades to sand closer to the forest backdrop.           There is no doubt civilization is encroaching on even the most remote looking places in our country.  As proof, cell phone service is weak but available in this campsite.  The view is 360º of Ozark beauty with not a man made item visible except what you brought with you.  Then the cell phone rings.  It's enough to make you want to test the waterproofing of your phone.  Instead I just turned it off and put it away in the pack.  (After a couple calls to rub it in to those who couldn't make it.)

        Having cut the run short on the first day, we had more miles to make up the second day.  In preparation we participated in all of the usual campsite festivities.  Including but not limited to fire building, grub cooking, tent pitching, picture taking, beer drinking and pumpkin carving.  It was  October after all.

 After carving, the pumpkin was dubbed 'Oden.' He was our camp watchman from that point forward. 

        The next morning we awoke to the river 4 feet lower than the evening before.  The weather was warm and overcast but clearing.  Breakfast was served with a few necessary aspirins dosed to those who needed them.  Tents were packed and the boats were repositioned on the beach in preparation for loading.  Packing the boats gets easier everytime it's done.  You figure what fits where and what can be improved next time.    Launch time was approximately 10 am with the current at the same fast pace even though the river was lower and starting to fit down into it's regular channels. 
 
       Early on the second day we decided to 'barge' the boats.  With the river so wide and without many  things to avoid, we were able to lash the boats together and relax for most of the rest of the trip.  Only the occasional stroke was needed to keep us in the middle of the river and moving quickly.  Lunch was taken on a beach and the traditional planting of the pineapple was completed.  The second night a great camp beach was a bit harder to find.  After stopping on several and dismissing them as suitable, we came upon an island that fit the bill nicely.  While inspecting one of the rejected beaches we came across a patch of native gourds.  One was chosen as a companion for Oden.  While small in size, he burned bright with the help of a tea light candle.

        The second night passed without incident except what had become n0rmal for us, the visitation of a couple of Rack-a-coons.  At every camp, from Buffalo Point to lower Buffalo river, we were raided by a couple of very courageous rack-a-coons.  They didn't care we were sitting right there, grabbing any food carelessly left out and running to the edge of camp before stopping to see if they got away with it or not.  Because we were raided by what seemed to be the same ones with the same M.O. I am certain they were being transported from one camp to the next somewhere in our boats.  I suspect Kevin.

        With the dawn of the third day we found the river continuing to drop, however the clarity was getting better.  It had cleared enough that Keane was able to do some good fishing.  One hooked and several bites were encouraging.    Breakfast was served, boats were loaded and we launched by 10 a.m.  Although the river had slowed to around 3 to 4 mph, we still barged up and relaxed in the warm overcast weather.   Oden was left to guard the island and welcome the next travelers.

        The river slowed to a crawl as we neared the confluence with the White River.  With the high flows there were several motor boats moving up into the Buffalo from the White.  As we rounded the island at the mouth of the Buffalo the surprise was how little flow was coming out of the dam.  It took us almost three hours to float the five miles to Shipps Ferry.  The only downside to reaching the end point safely is well, it's the end point.  The trip is over and nothing is left to do but return to civilization.  Although loved ones are returned to and commitments kept, there is still something sad about seeing it come to an end.

If  you have read this far down into the report you might as well  watch
the slide show below.  It has all the pics from the trip.  Next year make
sure you are in the pics from the 1492 - 2010 escapade.