Woolly Hollow State Park

Woolly Hollow is the closest state park to my house, and I go there often to bird and hike. It’s named for the Woolly family who moved to Arkansas from Tennessee in 1852. Martin Woolly, son of the original settlers, built a log cabin nearby. It was moved to the state park in 1974.

There’s a lake, with fishing piers and a swimming beach. There’s a campground. And there’s a hiking trail around the lake and some bike trails that cut through the woods. Sometimes I walk the lake trail, but when I’m concentrating on birds, I usually walk along the bike trail, thereby probably missing all the good birds.

There’s a scenic waterfall below the dam, but in the spring of 2026, when I took these photos, the water was very low and the falls was unimpressive. You can see how low the lake is.

The birding isn’t great, but I like the park because it’s not usually crowded. I’ve walked the trail at times when I didn’t meet another person.

When I got my passport stamped in the gift shop, the woman behind the counter really, really wanted to give me the Club 52 sticker, but that’s the prize for five stamps, and Woolly Hollow was only my fourth. I felt like I let her down.

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Lower White River Museum State Park

If you picture in your head what a state park might look like, you will never picture this place. Located in Des Arc (“The Bend”), a small town with a dead town feel, the “park” consists of one metal building and a parking lot for 13 cars.

I drove over after birding nearby and found the place deserted except for the guy behind the counter. The displays line the walls around a single room. They tell about the exciting things people historically did along the White River — farm, log, go to school, fish. Pretty much the same stuff people historically have done everywhere.

Look online, and the “feature” of the park is this set of four life-size figures on a platform near the door. They aren’t explained, and they aren’t part of any particular exhibit. they just sit there to make the museum look much more impressive than it is.

The one section I found interesting explained the pearl and button industry once based there.

The entire museum took me perhaps 15 minutes to peruse — and I took my time and read almost everything. There was no gift shop, so I said to the guy, “You could at least sell buttons.” He told me there used to be a gift shop, but they “moved it to another park.” You can buy buttons at the Plantation Agriculture Museum, 50 miles west.

Then I asked the guy what percentage of visitors came just to get their passports stamped. He said 95%.

I’m just imagining the process that led to this being a state park. I figure some guy had a rustic museum containing his collection of local artifacts. When he died, his family donated it to the state, which, in a weak moment, accepted. Then they looked at the crap the guy had in his museum and realized there wasn’t much to it. They threw most of it away and tried to make something out of the rest. That’s my guess anyway.

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Birthplace of Kermit the Frog

I found out about this place in Leland, Mississippi when I was looking for potential stops on our trip. It sounded like a goofy, fun museum, and we decided to stop. It turned out be be an adventure of a sort. For starters, a huge storm had ripped through the area just before we arrived. When we stopped at the Hampton Inn in Indianola, Mississippi, the computers were down, and I had to fill out a paper form to register. The town was rather lean when it came to dining choices, so we opted for Burger King and ate in our room. Another storm blasted through in the night, but things were calm in the morning. When we went downstairs for the hotel breakfast, they were out of a lot of stuff. We could tell that it had been the exact same choices that we’d been given every morning of our trip, so we weren’t too disappointed. We had a couple hours to kill, so we looked for a breakfast place. There was a spot in downtown Greenville, but when we got there, the neighborhood and the restaurant both looked sketchy. We backtracked 12 miles to the McDonald’s in Leland and ate there.

We got to the Kermit museum about 20 minutes before it opened. It was immediately evident that it wasn’t a large place — certainly not worth a night in a hotel (we were only three hours from home), and three hours of time-wasting on a Wednesday morning in Mississippi. But we were there, and this was very, very, very likely going to be the only time we were in the area.

The front of the building looks nice enough, but when we peeked around the side, the back looked like it was about to fall into Deer Creek.

The reason the museum is here, or so we were told, is that Jim Henson was born in Greenville and lived in Leland for a time as a kid. He used to explore along the banks of Deer Creek, and that’s where he got the idea to create a frog character — or so we were told. The actual reason the museum is here, of course, is that this part of Mississippi has nothing to offer tourists, so this was created to encourage people like us to stop. And it worked. We spent our tourists dollars in two restaurants and a hotel just to see the museum.

I don’t mean to disparage the museum. What there was of it was fun. It consisted of one room with some photos and signs about Henson and his life, a lot of Kermit and other Muppet/Sesame Street character collectibles, and some Kermit photo ops. The lady who worked there was very friendly and probably a little lonely.

If I understood correctly, this (below) is an actual Kermit puppet — one that was used in some of his appearances on Sesame Street, The Muppets, or somewhere. If I didn’t understand correctly, it isn’t.

We read everything, looked at all the photos, took advantage of the photo ops, bought some swag in the gift shop — all of which took about 20 minutes tops — and then headed home.

To borrow a line from Samuel Johnson — It’s worth seeing, but it’s not worth going to see.

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Mobile Bay Ferry

The ferry travels between Fort Morgan on Mobile Point and Dauphin Island across the mouth of Mobile Bay. I found out about it last spring when I birded on Dauphin Island, and it was one of the “must hit” spots on this trip.

On Monday, I asked the woman in the ferry ticket booth if we could expect to drive right up and get on the next ferry. She said mornings were busy, and to guarantee a spot, we should arrive at least 45 minutes early. So we arrived an hour early on Tuesday — and only five of the 18 spots were filled when we left. My wife sat by the shore while I birded the immediate area of the ferry landing, hoping for, but not finding, a Gray Kingbird.

I was a little concerned that we would have to deal with snakes on the ferry, but I didn’t see any.

Here’s the ferry on its way to Mobile Point. I took the first photo on Monday afternoon and the second as the ferry approached the landing on Tuesday morning. Note the oil rig in the background. There were maybe six visible from this point.

Dauphin Island from Fort Morgan. The Gulf is to the left in this photo.

The guy in the light blue T-shirt in this photo was wearing binoculars, so I asked him if he was a birder. He was, from Michigan, and he was pretty intense about it, although fairly new. We had a good chat for the final third of the trip.

Sand Island Light and other channel markers in the Gulf at the mouth of Mobile Bay off Fort Morgan. It’s the southernmost point of Alabama, about three miles off shore. It was built in 1864. The island once covered about 400 acres, but storms and time have eroded it. What’s left is a tiny bit of land mostly made up of granite blocks put there in an attempt to save the lighthouse. While restoration efforts continue, it’s the general consensus that it won’t last much longer.

We hung around Dauphin Island for while — again me birding while my wife sat by the shore. We then headed toward home. We drove through the small town of Bayou La Batre. As we crossed the bridge over the bayou, I noticed several shrimp boats docked along the bank. I mentioned that the town would probably be a good place for seafood, and since it was near lunch, we pulled over and looked. We ended up at a place called Catalina Bayou Restaurant. We split a bowl of crab bisque and a plate of “Big Reds,” deep-water shrimp. Both were delicious. It wasn’t a fancy place, but it was one of those fun serendipitous moments that occasionally happen on vacation.

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Fort Morgan State Historic Site

On Monday, we hung around our hotel for just about as long as we could stay in the room. We then drove west through Pensacola Beach and Pensacola, staying as close to the Gulf as we could. After checking into our hotel in Gulf Shores, Alabama (about a mile and a half from the shore and A LOT less expensive), we drove down 20 miles down the peninsula to Fort Morgan State Historic Site. The location has been a military instillation of one sort or another, beginning during the War of 1812 and continuing through 1924. It served as a WPA camp in the 1930s and briefly as a protection against German submarines during WWII. I took the photo below from the Fort Morgan – Dauphin Island Ferry the next morning.

A log and sand fort called Fort Bowyer was first built here in 1813. The British attacked it twice. The first time, they were driven off. The second time a much larger force captured the fort, but when everyone found out the war had been over for a month and a half, the British left.

Construction on Fort Morgan began in 1819 and lasted 15 years because the location was so isolated. It was manned by the U.S. Army for the next 28 years. In 1861, the Confederates took possession and kept it until mid-1864. Most of the entrance into Mobile bay was blocked, with only a narrow passage, guarded by the fort, remaining open to shipping. It was the last coastal fort to remain in Confederate hands. In August, 1864, the Union navy under Admiral David G. Farragut forced its way past the fort, losing one ship in the process. That ship, the Tecumseh, struck a mine (known then as a “torpedo.” It was during this battle that Farragut, when warned about the torpedoes, uttered his famous line, “Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.” Once the Union forces entered the bay, they were able to cut off provisions to the fort, and two weeks later, the Confederates surrendered.

Beginning in 1898, at the time of the Spanish-American War, large concrete batteries were placed around Fort Morgan, some of them actually within the fort’s walls. These ugly concrete structures totally destroy the aesthetic of the older brick structure. They have never fired a shot in battle. The fort was an artillery training base during WWI an a ordnance depot during WWII. The state of Alabama took possession as a historic site in 1946.

We walked through the small but interesting museum, then through the fort itself. There was a breeze coming off the Gulf, but inside the fort, it was sunny and warm — not nearly as bad as I’m sure it is mid-summer, but warmer than any other point on our trip.

We entered through a tunnel through the glacis, an earthen slope constructed around the fort to protect the brick walls.

The dry moat between the glacis and the wall. Battery Thomas, one of the later concrete batteries, fills the gap at the end.

The Sally Port, the main entrance through the walls.

Inside the casements which line the inside walls of the fort.

Looking across the parade ground at the older part of the fort.

And looking the other way at the newer, concrete part of the fort.

In addition to being ugly, this structure, which pretty much divides the old fort in half, is falling apart. We were able to walk up some steep steps to the platform on the right to look out over the Gulf and Mobile Bay.

After we finished our tour, which took maybe 15 minutes, we drove around the grounds. Then I did about an hour of birding while my wife sat near the shore. We also strolled a ways down a narrow beach, picking up shells and looking at birds.

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