Ozarks swimming holes are something special. The water is cool—but not the icy New England water—clear, and moving pretty fast. But even among the wealth of options Rocky Falls is something special. Novelist Katie Estill and I got there pretty early and had the place practically to ourselves with a front row seat. By afternoon, however, the falls were crowded with frisbee players, dogs, kids jumping off the rocks or sliding down the natural chute, the pool was full of floaties and fishermen and the "beach" was covered with picknickers and suntanners.
In a related note, I have not been able to get the country ditty Rocky Top out of my mind, for obvious reasons. Here's a '60s version of it. Nice jackets, dudes.
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