The Winding Stairs - Conclusion

Very excited about their camping trip, their first father-son adventure of this type, Micky and Jordan attempted to reach the parking area downriver from the Winding Stairs. However, landowners had fenced it off. They could not enter by the traditional route from below. Crossing to the far side of the river, they found another place to park. Mickey knew that a river crossing was required from this side, but Jordan was a tough boy who could handle it. They didn't let that dampen their spirits much, on this cold march day. They soon had to cross a rushing creek. Jordan slipped down, and got totally soaked, but climbing two mountains soon dried him out some, and warmed him back up. However, they now faced a river crossing, and It was much deeper than they expected. Jordan once told me when helping me dig for diamonds, “Papaw, nothing that's fun is ever this hard.” He may have been thinking that now, but he kept quiet about it if he did. When they finally reached the Winding Stairs, they just stood and looked for a very long time – well worth getting wet for.

      They gathered up a lot of firewood. The night promised to be cold, and the situation was not helped much when Jordan got wet again, crossing a creek with a load of firewood. But the roaring fire soon fixed that problem. They set up the tent, and got a good nights sleep.

      The next day was great. They hiked, climbing a high mountain. A ledge near the top proved to be the winter home of thousands of lady bugs. I had seen that before, at the old fire tower. They found bats in a cave. They finished out the day fishing. A great day. Seems Mickey had always planned on two nights, but didn't explain that to Kinley very well.

      The rains moved in that night. It rained, and rained, and rained some more. Fortunately, Mickey picked a good spot on high ground, so they were not affected by the rapidly rising river. But the tent did not prove to be very water resistant. Jordan's bag got wet, and he finished out the night  sharing Mickey's sleeping bag.

      By morning, the situation looked bad. The roaring river was very high now, rising quickly, hemmed in between two very steep mountains. Mickey knew trying to cross it to get to the car was out of the question. They would have to find another way out.

      They headed down river, but soon came to a feeder creek that was a trickle yesterday, but was today a roaring torrent. They stopped, managed to build a fire with the wet wood, and made coffee. Mickey knew these mountain streams usually came up very fast, but once they passed the crest, they should also go down fast. Finally, though, Mickey came to realize that if anything, it was still rising. It had to be crossed, if they were to get out of here. The water edged up toward waist deep on Mickey. Jordan, with his pack, held on to mickey in the swift current He slipped, losing his grip on Mickey, and his pack. He was about to be swept down toward the roaring River. By the time Mickey chased him down and they recovered the pack, they were both soaked. It was getting colder by the hour. Jordan was proving to be a tough guy, though. He was hanging in there.

They ran into a very wet hiker. He said he had almost been swept away trying to cross the river, and he had decided to try to get out by going up river, to Albert Pike. Mickey knew that going in that direction would only take them farther and farther away from their car, and he worried about being trapped between the cliffs and the still-rising river.

They headed on down river. The water had overflowed much of the trail, however, pushing up against steep mountains. It was tough going. After many cold, hard hours, they reached the fenced off area where they had first planned to park the car. They knew they were still miles away from the highway, and many miles more from their car. They could probably get a phone signal now, but their cell phone was dead. Finally, they reached a dirt road. After they had walked down it a long time, they heard a noise. A car! Moments later, Johnny Barksdale pulled up.

      Kinley's next call reached me on the highway. “They're out!” she shouted. “Call the Pike County Sheriff's office right now.” I said. She quickly called me right back. “They were very glad they are out of there. They were about to call in many more searchers from surrounding counties. It's going to be a very cold night. Too cold for wet campers.”

      Christian and I headed back to the levee. Christian is my oldest grandson, and the only grandchild who inherited Grandma Martha Jane's red hair. He now seems to be getting a lot of mileage out of it. The girls at school just seem to love their “ginger,” judging from the pics I see on Facebook. He's a great fishing buddy, and now, at fifteen, he's showing signs that he could become the tallest Gillum in decades. He may well become one of the smartest Gillums in decades, also, if he makes maximum use of the tools he was born with. The jury is still out on that. Caylie, my oldest grandchild, was the first driver that son Corey trained. She's very cautious. She was constantly told by Corey that she “must drive faster.” Now he's training Christian, and he now yells, with fear edging into his voice, “Christian, slow this thing down!”

      We still had time to catch a lot of catfish. And we did. We headed home two days later, with sixty pounds of catfish fillets. And Mickey and Jordan headed home, still wet, but now for the first time all day, warm and no longer hungry. And, they have a great story to tell.