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I had been utilizing my college degree to the fullest at a local print shop, when I was informed that I had to take some vacation time in the next month, or lose what I had accumulated for the year. Furthermore, I had been told that the only week that it would be approved was next week, even though I had two weeks built up. Thanking my boss immensely for this revelation of extreme importance, I then set about to plan my great escape. Unfortunately, my next pay period wasn't until after I was supposed to be back, therefore my options were limited. I really didn't want to go very far anyway. I just didn't feel like a lot of driving. Therefore, I decided the perfect fit was camping in Arkansas. I drove down to my parents who were thrilled that I was taking some time off. I didn't inform them of the motivations that I had for this impromptu vacation. I just said I wanted to go camping. My father has always loved camping, and he knew that I shared his explorer gene. He then proceeded to load up my little bitty car with can goods of every shape, size, and expiration date. If it sounded bad, he gave it to me. I got spam, canned enchiladas, corned beef, mixed vegetables, and of course the ever popular mystery cans with no label. He loaded up my car. He did throw a tent in and a bit of other stuff, but the shrapnel in the box was the contribution, I remember most. I decided that the trip down would be more interesting, if I took back roads. Taking the back roads in Arkansas is an adventure in itself. I must say that Arkansas is one of the most beautiful states I have ever seen. I love the mountains, and the springs, and the old houses. It is a poor state, but one I like none the less. Just call me hick. As I drove down a barren stretch of highway, I somehow got behind one of the many log trucks that populate the roads of Arkansas like stars on a clear winter's night. This particular one must have thought my drive was too uneventful, because it decided to throw off one of its tires, as we were going up a rather steep hill. Now, a lot of people would have panicked at that point, but the sad truth is that that was the third such piece of flying debris to be launched at my car and my head in the last year. I treated much as most would a slow moving car, I passed it and moved on. I must admit that looking back on that day I should have stopped and offered the guy a hand, but I didn't. I was tired and this was a fairly typical occurrence for truckers. Anyway, I haven't told you yet where I was going. In the United States there is only one place that is government sanctioned where you can go and dig for diamonds. It is called, appropriately enough, the crater of diamonds. Now, people have found diamonds there. In fact the largest diamond ever discovered in the United States was found there. The diamond bearing soil goes down about a hundred yards in this three foot ball field by three foot ball field area. Every year, people find a handful of diamonds there. Most of them aren't worth much, but people find them. The place has been surveyed by a geological team several times, but in each instance, they have determined that the diamonds found there are just slightly to sparse to fund a mining operation. The bottom line is that the state makes more money on camping permits and shovels than it would on the tax revenue of a mine there. I got to the crater of diamonds in the early evening. I bought a pass for two nights. I went and set up camp and just as I was getting ready to load up the inside of the tent I noticed the big spider. Now, I don't mind spiders, but this thing was HUGE, and it was sitting right on my tent flap. I needed to go into town anyway to call Mom. She asked that I call her, and the phone at the camp site would accept my money, but would not register that money had actually been accepted. Therefore, I drove into town for a harpoon to kill spiders and to find a phone. The only place open was a small convenience store with a pay phone on the outside. A lady was screaming at the phone, when I pulled up. She wasn't talking in it. She was screaming at it, while it was still hung up. I decided to give her a little time. The convenience store clerk sold me a gallon sized container of insta-spider kill. I asked for a roll of quarters and he went nope I asked for change for the pay phone and he went nope.. I asked for a calling card, like the one he had advertised on a sign prominently displayed on the window. Yep, you guessed it. NOPE.. Finally, I decided to buy bubble gum. 1 piece at a time, at three cents a pop. I paid for each piece with a different dollar bill. He wasn't happy with me, but by that time I understood why the lady was screaming at the phone. Oh, the cops came by and picked her up. I didn't ask. Anyway, the phone didn't work, so I ended up driving around till I found another one. When I got back to my camp site, I took out the bug spray and poured it down the sides of the tent. I then circled the tent like the wagons of the old west did. It seemed to work, at least the spiders stayed inside with me. The next morning was very hot. I got up early and went to the nice bath house they had at the place. Of course, I had to share the stall with a spider the size of my towel, but the water was hot at least. I went down to the park and paid my $4 admission and then, of course, had to spend $20 on a shovel for half a day. I laughed and asked the girl how much they took in in a day, and she went you don't want to know. The rules of the park were simple. You could dig, as deep a hole as you wanted, but before you left, You had to fill it in completely. (This was how they prevented people from large scale excavations that could cave in on them. I dug for awhile, but the day was so hot and dry, that I ended up quitting and went back to my camp site for a nap. I finally woke up in mid afternoon, and went back to the field and just walked around. I didn't find any diamonds that day, but I did get some nifty looking rocks that I gave to my brother. When I came out of the field, it had just started to rain. I had driven to the other side of the field this time, so I had my car. Of course, I had a flat tire. Of course, my can of fix a flat had a broken nozzle, of course my tire iron was no where to be found. I dimly remembered lending it to someone who had lost theres and dimly remember asking specifically for it back, but well, a memory of an event does little good sometimes. Anyway, I had to walk to the shovel lady and sweet talked her into helping me with my flat tire. She laughed at me and was going to give me a hand, until she realized it was raining. At that point, she gave me her can of fix a flat. I drove back to the city and got a new tire iron wrench at a gas station, and bought a new tire. I then went back to my camp site where thankfully it had stopped raining. I was glad too because I was starving for some of that spam. I gathered up some wood and made a little fire to cook my dinner on. It was just a small thing, but it was large enough for the park ranger to come by and scream at me. It seems that we were under a drought condition and that no fires were allowed except in cases of spider invasion. Ok, I made that last part up, but the ranger did make me put my fire out. At least, I got the baked beans heated up. After dinner, it started to rain again, and I was exhausted from all the digging, so I called it an early night. Well, I thought I did. Sometime in the middle of the night, the storm returned with a vengeance. It was bright enough that I could see the spiders inside my tent. It was bright enough that I could read. After I woke up enough to realize that reading in a tent by lightning light while surrounded by trees was a bad thing, I decided to go down to the bath house and see if there was a tornado warning or anything. I got up and started to walk down that way. There were two men in another campsite. They had this bonfire going that was at least 15 feet tall. I mean it was big. I guess the spiders had invaded after all. I walked over to the two men and managed to get a hi out of my mouth before the murderous glare in the man's eyes caused me to turn around and leave. I don't know if he was upset about a spider or what, but I decided that the lightning illuminated tent was a safer environment than making small talk with this man obsessed with fires and storms. The next day I got up and left. I still had a few days left on my vacation, so I took a different set of back roads home. I had decided to see Little Rock, and should have stopped and saw an old friend of mine, but instead just saw how close the red light district movie theatre was to where Bill Clinton lived. I got a kick out of that. I didn't spend much time there and wanted to go canoeing, but we were in a drought and the water level was way too low. I decided instead to stop at a local commercial cave and take a tour. There were several caves in the area where I was. I hear that half of Our Kansas, better known as Arkansas, is undermined with these caves. I've always liked them and have done some real spelunking, but then I just wanted to do a tourist thing. The place I finally stopped at offered two caves for the price of one. It was one of the last tours of the day, and the tour group had already gone through one of the caves, so I started with the second, older one. The group was small, but there was a geologist in the group, and I was a scientist who had at one time worked for a geological survey and attended a mining school, so I knew enough about caves to be dangerous. The guide was all of 16-17, female, and very cute. We intimidated the hell out of her, as me and the other guy were making wise ass remarks the whole time. Once the other cave was done, everyone else left and it was just me with the jail bait. She was nervous, so I told her I was just having fun, and just give me the same tour as she had done countless times before. She didn't. She took me into the cave and told me that they had just discovered this cave last year and had just opened it this year. (Remember, this was in someone's back yard. This was not a professional group selling cave tours.) As we walked into the cave, she told me how proud she was to have changed one of the light bulbs in the new chamber, she then grabbed my hand and led me off of what seemed to be the main trail. This was probably a bad idea, but jail bait or not, I didn't mind her touching my hand. Anyway, she took me into a little tunnel. Flipped on a light switch and then put my hand on the wall. I felt it moving. I felt water flowing. She told me to look up. As I looked up, I saw the bent stalagmites and stalactites and she asked me how high I thought it was in this chamber. It went up a good four or five or six stories, but it was hard to tell from the lights. What creeped me out was the water flowing through the rock wall on the other side of my hand. I knew there was a drought, but I couldn't help wonder how those stalagmites had been bent, and all in one direction. There isn't much more to tell. I talked to the girl and later the owner about the cave and other caves in the area, and then drove the rest of the way back to my parents house. At least there weren't any spiders there.
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