The Ozark Mountains aren't high, in the sense of the Rockies, or even the Appalachians.  These dessicated hills, however, can change elevation by more than 1000' in less than a quarter mile.  Such was the situation near Love Hollow.

Roy and I set up a base camp on the side of a hill that plunged steeply into the valley below.  It was summer in Arkansas, temperatures over 100 degrees and humidity out of sight.  And there were bugs - mosquitoes, wasps, horseflies, gnats, and scorpions.  Well, you get the picture.  The incessant itch from poison ivy lesions on my arms and legs made matters even worse.

The boss of the field camp was a professor from Northeast (Professor D), and his assistant was a graduate student named Evan.  Both of their wives had accompanied them, as had Professor D's three year old daughter and two year old son.  They all lived upstairs in the old farmhouse, with air-conditioning.  Professor D had his favorites.  Roy and I were not part of that group and Dr. D considered us little more than blithering idiots.  That first hot day in Arkansas, we did nothing to prove him wrong.

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