Tompkins ACoE Campground (AR)

While enjoying the company of our dear friends—Rev. (Dr.) Robert and Kim Gibbs— during our extended San Antonio jaunt; we discussed some of our possible destinations in the coming months.  After relaying that we were leaning towards heading northward through Arkansas, they shared some of their memorable trips into the Hot Springs area of Western(ish) Arkansas.  They also had vivid memories of running from threatening weather, and finding relaxing refuge in the Ouachita Mountains.  Taking a recommendation from trusted friends, we cleared northeast Texas and headed East on I-30 towards Hot Springs.

Kristy performed searches for potential bed-down locations, and we set our eyes on one that was located on Lake Ouachita—Tompkins (Army Corps of Engineers) Campground.  Unable to secure an on-line reservation, we make a leap-of-faith and showed up at the park gate; hopeful that a few (non-reservable) first-come/first-serve sites (also known as “walk-up sites”) would be available.  When we pulled into the campground, it was fairly full, but there were a couple of open sites for us to choose from.  We picked one located at the furthest point of the peninsular loop; less than 50’ from the lake, with no camping sites to obstruct our water views, and easy access for The Boys to take an occasional swim.

Buddy takes a break from his mid-day swim to try his luck at fishing

Tompkins campground sits on the banks of Lake Quachita—the largest lake (solely) in Arkansas—with over 690-miles of shoreline surrounding the 40,000-acres of surface water.  The lake is home to a rare species of “stingless” jelly fish, and was not timbered when the impoundment was flooded in the 1950’s.  This makes for interesting diving, as there is a literal forest that lies beneath the surface of the water.

Next to the campground sits a private resort that goes by the name of “Shangri-La”.  It did not look like the secluded utopia described by James Hilton in his 1933 novel “Lost Horion,”  but it did have one thing that made it a magical enclave—homemade pies.  The pies at Shangri-La are locally notorious.  When diners arrive at the Shangri-La Cafe for dinner, they normally order a piece of pie first; which ensures they will have their favorite dessert before it runs out.  This has become such a common practice, that the waitresses simply puts a fork, customers name, and pie variety on the plate to “hold” a piece until the patron is ready for their pie.  They are made fresh each day, and the varieties are as impressive as the taste.  Apple, dutch apple, cherry, lemon meringue, coconut cream, butterscotch, pecan, and peach are all mainstays.  There's normally an additional “what the cook wanted to make” selection to fill the pastry cupboard.  The owner of this resort has been making pies at this cafe for nearly 6-decades.  Even when we had dinner cooking in Château Glory, I would occasionally sneak away for some take-away pie.  I didn’t sample all of the varieties, but I gave it a good shot.

The constant rains was no picnic

Although Arkansas had not received the amount of rain that we experienced in Texas, they had still received a generous portion of precipitation over the past few months.  With this increased rainfall, the lake was unusually high, with a few RV sites closed for the foreseeable future; and a few of the tent sites completely underwater.  Unfortunately, there was more rain in the forecast for Western Arkansas—the recharge point for Lake Ouachita—and the lake level was projected to continue to rise.  It was not unusual for us to observe 2"-6" increases in lake level from overnight squalls.  We visited another ACoE campground nearby, and most of the camping sites were inaccessible due to water over the internal roadways.

End of the line for Hank.  The entire campground (ahead) was inaccessible due to the rising lake.

This initially proved to be beneficial for us, as the unpredictable weather deterred many campers from staying; and the closing of campgrounds kept others from arriving.  The campground began to thin out, leaving us with the space and privacy that had come to define most of our trip.  The campers who remained were not daunted by weather.  They were there to fish, and no amount of rain was going to keep them from their angling adventures.




With Memorial Day weekend approaching, we found ourselves in another pseudo-bind; where to stay.  Fortune smiled on us, as we were able to extend in-place and secure pleasant surroundings on one of the biggest camping weekends of the year.  This allowed us to focus on more important things, like…watching sunsets.




A few storms rolled through sporadically, but most of them just put on a short rumbling light-show, then moved on.  The real activity was in the western part of the state, which was getting hammered by cell after cell of torrential rain.  After a night of peaceful sleep, I started to stir.  The fresh morning breeze trickling through the bedroom window and cooling my face and pillow.  The Colors were gently swaying in the wind off the front of The Rig; occasionally making a soft “pop” in response to an errant gust.  As I eased my transition from slumber to awakening…

KNOCK!!!   KNOCK!!! KNOCK!!!

As if recreating a bad sequel to the trailer fire in Episode 43, I went into full Three Stooges mode while The Boys barked at imaginary objects on the walls and ceilings.  I hastily threw on some clothes and fought my way through confusion to the door.  When I opened the door, I was surprised.  It wasn’t an overly excited policeman barking commands.  It wasn't a foul-mouthed military training instructor projecting spit into my face.  Standing at the bottom of our steps was a nice park ranger.  She said, in a very calm and informative tone:

“The lake is expected to significantly rise and we’re going to shut down this part of the campground.  We don’t have any open slots in this park, and we don’t have any recommendations for other parks.  The maintenance crew will be coming by in a couple of hours to turn off the electric and water.  We’re sorry for the inconvenience.  Good luck.”

With a no-notice travel day thrust upon us—on the precipice of the Memorial Day weekend—we quickly broke camp.  We knew it was going to be a long day.  We had no follow-on campground reservations.  We were pseudo-remote in an area that is surrounded by National Forests—a feature we normally prefer—but this also brings with it the fact that there is a paucity of privately-owned RV parks.  The whine of the pneumatics resonated as the slides were retracted into travel mode.  Other campers—in a similar lodging bind—began to file out of the campground.  One of our “neighbors” pulled up—trailer hooked-up and ready to roll—and told us of a “recreation area” a few miles up the road that had a few RV walk-up sites as of early this morning.  We got directions to this recreation area, thanked him for the very timely info, and hitched-up Glory.  We were unsure where we would sleep tonight—or how far we would travel to get there.  We were back to living on-the-fly.

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