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Oh, the Stories We Can Tell

 

Why It "Won't Blow Over"

 

 

Before we bought our 2004 Tahoe, the best vehicle we had owned was a 1978 4wd Jeep Grand Wagoneer, Woody.  When it ran it was like no other: short turning radius, quick acceleration, inside comfort, large cargo space, good ride, easy to drive, great visibility, sharp; frequently on the rack in Troostwood Garage.  Mr. Wood, the chief mechanic, knew us well.  One night that jeep's unreliability contributed to our safety, to a family-phrase and to the name of our LLC for the Niangua property, “Won’t Blow Over.”

Our family rode that jeep on the road Mr. Rainwater dynamited and excavated for us from Box Hollow Rd. to camp on our place by the river.  Instead of stopping at the top of the hill and carrying gear through the smartweed all six of us could now drive to the gravel bar and throw stones into the river from the tent.  So we did – camp next to the river.  We had not been there long when a man in bibbed overalls appeared and said he was walking the river.  He said the best way to walk the river was right down the middle.  He said he had been doing that most of his life.  He also said he had seen the river get up higher than our campsite overnight.  His name was Lonnie Payne.

This was a special camp for us because Marty and Eleanor were going to join us and stay at Sand Springs.  The plan was for Marty and I to catch a mess of trout that Barbara would fix for supper; we would have a campfire with s’mores, and they would drive back to their room at dark.

It was cloudy when Marty and I went up the middle of the river to catch supper, he with fly rod and I with jig and ultralight.  I had stopped using my fly rod because I couldn’t catch fish with it, but I had little doubt about the two of us catching fish when a light rain began.  But no fish.  The clouds had a light cast, as if the rain was finishing.  Marty questioned, “What do you think?”

I think it will blow over,” I stated.   “It’ll blow over,” is a phrase that has been a standby in my life.  My optimism is tarnished by also often being naïve.  But this event gave the phrase new meaning in my family.  It now has the connotation of impending doom.

My forecast was convincing enough to send us both up into the trees for temporary shelter.  There we were standing next to sycamore trunks, rods in hand, soaked.  “So what do you think now?” asked Marty.  I allowed that we better go back to camp to assist with an alternate supper.  So we did.  And it kept raining. 

In those days we did not set up make shift shelters or canopies.  We were in the open.  As Barbara and I hustled around to get a supper together Marty invited us to go with them to Sand Springs Restaurant.  We could have fish!  So we unhooked the trailer, boarded the jeep, and followed them to Sand Springs.  And it kept raining.

It was still raining when we said goodnight after supper and headed back to our camp.   About a mile past Clyde’s Store on Corkery Road the jeep popped out of gear, and would not go back in.  For a while it would move in reverse, then nothing.  So I walked with a flashlight back to Clyde’s to call Marty and Eleanor to ask for a ride to Sand Springs where there was room for us for the night.  Marty was not driving at the time so we all crammed in with Eleanor and rode back to Sand Springs where we stayed dry for the night while it kept raining.

I don’t know how long it rained, or how much, but when I looked at the river in the morning it did not look good.  Barbara and I took Eleanor’s car to the jeep that still would not move, and the campsite that had flooded.  Overnight the river had come up and gone down.   It went over to the trailer and flattened the tent.  Gear that was not in the tent or in the trailer was downstream.  We still had our two canoes with paddles.  Time to go see Bob.

Bob and Barbara Burns started NRO at about the same time we bought Riversong. From the beginning they have been friends.  Bob called a tow truck for us and told us who to have rebuild the transmission.  He had one of his workers get our trailer and in front of his store we began hosing off mud from gear in the trailer.  When I came to my trusty Homelite chainsaw I took it inside the store to ask Bob what to do.  He nodded to the guy in bibbed overalls, Lonnie Payne, who worked for him.  Lonnie took the saw apart, poured gasoline all over it and set it afire.  Good as new.  He also got the weedeater going again.

What also got going was the prediction, “It’ll blow over,” usually laced with sarcasm. 

When it came time to name our LLC we wanted to honor Marty and Eleanor.  We hope the LLC lasts a long time; that it “Won’t Blow Over.”       (We formally changed the name of the LLC to Riversong Cabin in July of 2018 when we purchased the north 20 or so acres and put all of the property into the LLC.)      

 

Papi                                                                                                       

Eleanor and Marty

The Infamous Jeep

Remember how we said we left the campsite in June, '15 because of flood warnings?  

 

(This is just one of the many stories we can tell about the power of the Niangua River )

 

We returned on July 24, 2015, and found that the crest of 18 feet at Windyville had swamped the campsite in 3 to 4 feet of water.  Fortunately, we had taken most of our stuff with us but what was left was somewhat scattered and covered in mud.  All was salvagable. (The red cooler we brought with us on 7/24.) While water from Dry Creek flowed onto part of the front yard of our would be cabin, our building site did not flood.  

Bob and Barbara Burns at NRO

We washed most of the mud off in the "bathtub" in Quick Creek.

We also found a huge downed tree had washed in on the lower part of Riversong Road.  Papi tried to begin tackling it but Deryl Osborn, our builder, offered to bring down his excavator to help move the blockage.  Good thing he did or I am afraid we would still be working on it.  Thank you, Deryl Osborn!!!

 

Many times we have encountered these "wild" situations...hope we get to have more!

Papi was dwarfed by the tree.

Deryl Osborn with his equipment to the rescue!  Thank you, Deryl!

Deryl above working with the chainsaw and Roger doing the same at the left.

A road once again.

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