Johnny Morris, the Springfield family man/entrepreneur whose creative dreams resulted in Bass Pro Shops, Big Cedar Lodge and Top of the Rock, has spent years converting a less-celebrated historic canyon that spans the Arkansas-Missouri border into 10,000 emerald acres akin to the Garden of Eden.
I might exaggerate a skosh, but not much, after spending two hours in his nonprofit preserve called Dogwood Canyon Nature Park. At the very least, I'd call this piece of the planet a bona fide Shangri-La.
As with others born in the Ozarks, I grew up wading the pristine creeks and rivers and hiking the forested hills around Harrison and Boone County. The natural beauty was nothing unfamiliar to this old fella. What Morris has fashioned in his little corner of two states amplifies by tenfold the experience, allowing one to become spiritually enthralled in the embrace of Dogwood Creek, 250-year-old trees, spectacular waterfalls, wildlife and a lot more.
Little wonder Morris wanted the message from Duwamish Chief Seattle placed on one wall of Dogwood Canyon's enormous Nature Conservation Center, where schoolchildren are regularly bused in for classes in conservation and the outdoors. "All things are connected," the chief said.
The massive, rustic Dogwood Canyon buildings are a sight in themselves, including the new wooden and glass restaurant and the two-story treehouse completed last year in only 22 days by Animal Planet's Treehouse Masters.
Tour Operations Manager Adam Houseman said visitors can tour the park at their leisure by hiking, renting bicycles or Segways (a brief lesson in operation is included), or on horseback or carriage. There also is the popular two-hour guided Wildlife Tram Tour that departs from the welcome center and general store.
Others had told me the tram was the best way to see everything comfortably. Plus, it was getting warm by 10 a.m. and, truthfully, I was feeling lazy that day.
Pulling away from the visitor's center, our guide, Adam Miller, said 1,000-year-old human bones had been discovered in this ancient canyon, and the handsome covered wooden bridge we were about to cross was handcrafted by Amish workers. We paused for a few minutes at the 1880s-style Hope Wilderness Chapel, constructed of rough-hewn timber, that seats 120 and hosts up to 50 weddings each year.
As we continued, Miller said Morris had initially purchased just over 2,000 acres comprising Dogwood in 1990 and has since converted it into a nonprofit corporation, managed by the Dogwood Canyon Foundation, that can never be sold. All revenue collected goes back into preserving and enhancing the canyon and park that has grown to 10,000 acres. Confirming his recognized commitment to conservation and preservation only heightened my regard for Morris and his obvious convictions.
Crossing Little Indian Creek several times, we wound through the shady valley surrounding many azure ponds created by rock weirs and numerous stunning waterfalls toppling from high atop the surrounding cliffs. The stream teems with rainbow trout, and catch-and-release fly rod and spin fishing (with or without a guide) is allowed below a certain point. The weirs and waterfalls keep the water oxygenated and cool enough for trout to thrive.
The guide occasionally stopped alongside the creek to toss food to eagerly waiting fish. They've learned just when and where to congregate for a free meal. At one set of falls, a family of five children collected at the water's edge and hand-fed the trout that swam close enough to be touched. Yes, there were squeals of delight.
We stopped for photographs at all the waterfalls, including Thunder Falls, which begins as a twin set of falls that merges into one before surging into a pond. Because of the symbolism, it's the second most popular marriage spot in the canyon.
Our group, the first out that morning, trammed on along the narrow path and low water bridges, continually splashing across Dogwood Creek past enchanting places like the Bear Cave, Kids Cave, and the Butterfly Garden (see DogwoodCanyon.org for pictures).
Then we climbed out of the canyon into a rolling open pasture on the Arkansas side where the guide used corn spread around the tram to draw a dozen waiting buffalo within two feet of our shoulders. You don't realize how massive they are until you're close enough to smell and touch them. He did the same with an elk herd just up the path, and five enormous longhorn cattle with names like Curly and Smooch came loping toward the tram as we pulled up.
I'd never realized how very long those horns are. Wisely, Miller stopped short of letting them get within horns' distance. But what magnificent creatures they are.
Back at the center, we visited the remarkable treehouse and downed a tasty and satisfying lunch in the restaurant. Piling back into the car, none of us really wanted to leave such a transcendent and fanciful utopia. Thankfully, we have photographs and it's just a short drive up the highway a few miles outside Blue Eye, Mo., and we knew we'd be back.
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Mike Masterson's column appears regularly in the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette. Email him at mmasterson@arkansasonline.com.
Editorial on 07/03/2016