Jesus! Are we ever glad to get out of the Camp Comfort. Glad but still cranky from lack of sleep. Seeing another ferryboat ahead is serendipitous. Traffic’s backed up more than a mile, but the kids forget all about their impatience and bad humor driving on to the ferry, crossing the lovely Lake Norfolk and into the mountains. We Florida flatlanders are excited to be driving winding roads into the mountains. By afternoon we enter quaint picturesque Eureka Springs on the narrowest and most tortuous road. “It’s like a rollercoaster!” yells Scooter, too excited to be carsick.
“Let’s do it again,” pipes Nicole. Instead we stop at one of the numerous springs dotting the town, complete with spigot spewing pure clear water available to anyone with a bucket. We fill our containers and mouths under the tap.
Eureka Springs cliff cottage
Eureka Springs became a thriving health spa during the late 1800’s touting the healing properties of its multitude of springs nearby. The wealthy people who could afford the luxury of attending the spas or baths in the summertime, built fantastic homes in these mountains, high on cliffs dotting the town. Many of the old houses have been renovated and the town prides itself in its beautiful gardens. Now rather than relying on the spas for tourist money, the city has become an art and cultural center, especially in the summer when many workshops, summer stock, art and music festivals take place.
We set up camp including the screened tent, several miles out of town on the Beaver Dam and Reservoir for a few day’s stay and head down to the dam for a refreshing and cleansing swim, as there are no shower facilities. After a simple dinner and bedtime ritual I sit down to write my first letter home. Where do I start?
From Tennessee we head toward the Ozarks and our proposed rendezvous with the crew. We reach the legendary Mississippi River on a smaller backroad to find the bridge washed out, the ferry to replace it inoperable and the children terribly disappointed. I try the “pioneer family” excuse. “We’re on an adventure and we never know what we’ll discover,” as we retrace our steps. Not far ahead the kids see the ferry and their spirits return. Though the crossing is neither mighty nor majestic, just muddy, the Mississippi still possesses powerful magic aboard our rickety little ferry.
We climb into the Ozarks and begin looking for the closest national forest or park to set up camp. According to our road atlas there are none nearby and it’s getting late. A billboard flashes past “Camp In Comfort With Us”. Ray falls for it and turns in. The kids cheer. I balk at the ugliness and expense of a commercial campground. I lose. We pull in amidst big intrusive signs on all sides: ‘Wood $1 An Armload’, ‘Build No Open Fires’, ‘Guest Fee – $1 A Piece’ and the piece de resistance ‘NO MOSQUITOES’. Why the capital letters? Sure sounds fishy to me. I ask the manager who assures us there are no mosquitoes. We’re already in so we proceed to our designated site, at least a mile from all facilities. Since this is a one-night-stand we decide to spend our first night in the van, customized to sleep all four of us, instead of putting up the tent. While I make a quick spaghetti dinner, Ray sets up the beds: Two foam pads sit atop our single bed-sized storage area, one for me, and one pad to be placed on the floor at night for Ray and our dog Kobi. Scooter gets the backseat because he’s bigger and Nicole, the front, the cooler with a pillow on top fills the gap between the two seats. Curtains cover all the windows at night including a removable model for the windshield. Very snug. After looking at the cramped accommodations, Since there are no mosquitoes, Ray decides to sleep out under the stars on the picnic table. After dinner I clean off the table while Ray takes the kids to the bathroom. Nicole is thrilled with the real flushing toilet and the hot shower. For the first time, they’re eager to get to bed in their cool new bedroom. As darkness falls the mosquitoes descend. We sit around our ‘enclosed’ fire listening to the children fight and complain about the bugs. Scooter finally dozes off in utter exhaustion, but Nicole’s our bug freak. She continues whining and complaining about the “buggies” biting. Several applications of repellent do nothing other than get in her eyes, raising the level of her crying by several octaves and decibels. I close all the windows and she finally falls asleep in the stifling heat.
First night sleeping in the Van.
I’m exhausted and escape to the lake for a silent cry, except for the motorboats tearing up and down looking for good night-fishing holes. My idea of being a footloose carefree hippie didn’t include the enormous struggle involved in taking a young family of four along on my dream of “Being Here Now”.
I give up and drag off to bed, slipping past Ray outside on the hard picnic table slapping, spraying repellent and emitting his signature curses “Goddamnit! Fuckin mosquitoes!” that the children have sprinkled liberally through their vocabulary, and use most appropriately. Ray finally gives up and stuffs himself into the stifling van with the rest us. The last window is shut, the last piece of clothing is removed and I lie awake listening to the buzzing mosquitoes until the break of dawn.
Time for friends and family to part again. Our family is moving on to Jackson, TN to see some old college friends. The rest are going to the Ozarks. We hope to meet up with them in Eureka Springs several days hence.
Family – Barb, Ray, Nicole, Scooter, Jill, Terry
Part of our plan, while covering lots of the United States, is visiting as many old friends feasibly close to our general route. We’d originally had big plans to travel up the Eastern Seaboard as far as New York. Not only did two of my best friends from high school live up there, but some of the best and most established Auditory Oral schools for the Deaf were nearby. Knowing we were biting off more than we could chew in one summer, we decided to seek new horizons out west. The change of plans cut out many good friends. Will we ever see them again?. The last time we said good-bye to these friends, we were sure we’d see them again, but as time passes we realize many will fall by the wayside.It’s human nature.
The Pajaks will be our first stop. Embracing the concept of the Summer of Love, we adopt a hippie trait of just turning up without notice, and justify it by never knowing how long it’s going to take to get from one place to another. If the timing is bad we give them the “Peace y’all” sign and keep moving. We pull into town, call from a pay phone and find them home. Judy’s parents are visiting so we find a motel instead. Another wonderful first. Except for swimming in the lake we haven’t had a bath in several days. Ray jumps at the idea of a real shower and a clean bed. He’s the double Virgo in the group. Before we sold our house, an example of his cleanliness quotient was vacuuming every week because he loved to see and hear the dirt suck up into the machine.
After getting cleaned up we are invited to the country club to meet Doug as he comes off the golf course for a swim in the pool with their daughter Punky and a light dinner. Quite a divergence of our life styles has occurred in a few years time. We’ve dropped out and they’ve dropped into a life revolving around a certain social position in town that relates to job, house, club membership and financial status. They invite us to an upcoming wine-tasting party that the women have been arranging with all the embellishments of a multi-course meal and appropriate apparel. We decline. I doubt if our free-thinking attitudes and dirty blue jeans and sweatshirts would have done the trick.
We especially enjoy our last evening sitting outside with the kids setting off sparklers as our filthy clothes agitate in their matching, color-coordinated washer and dryer. When the sparklers are all gone Doug gets down and dirty with the kids rough-housing on the lawn. This is their best evening so far. Scooter and Nicole talked for years about going back to play with Punky and her daddy.
Unfortunately there’s a big discrepancy in our family’s rising times: Nicole’s the early bird, Scooter likes to sleep in until the last possible moment, mom and dad fall somewhere in between. Nicole’s up by 7am and wakes us ready to explore. We notice Herb’s VW van parked next to ours. Terry’s friends must have arrived in the middle of the night. Ray’s jokester personality kicks in. He walks over and knocks hard on the window. Amidst rustling and swearing inside he exclaims gruffly, “Manager. That’ll be $2.00 please.” We can hear them grumbling, “What in the hell is he doing here? At this time in the morning?” Ray’s laugh can’t be quelled. They peek out the window with grumpy puffy faces, not at all amused by his prank.
“Jesus, Ray,” I roll my eyes and smile, “they’re going to get you back this time.”
Once we get organized and start making breakfast, the smell and sound of sizzling bacon brings everybody to the table. We catch up with our friends relating our “lost” stories. The children throw rocks into the mirror-like lake disturbing the water into wider and wider ripples. One of them skips by accident and a whole new game of skill begins. Because of the landscape we discover that the children’s voices disturb the air into echoes loud enough for even Scooter to hear. His face lights in intense wonder. “I can hear me!’ He laughs out loud. How many deaf children experience the echo of their own voices?
I tidy up the campsite while Daddy shows the kids how to dig and collect worms for fishing later. Even Nicole enjoys it and is proud of her courage. In our walk around the lake for good fishing and swimming holes, we encounter two young boys on the path, one holding up a large rattlesnake, the other brandishing the stick they used to kill it.
“Oh my God!” I immediately raise my out-stretched arms to block the children.
Ray yells, “Get back!”
The boys laugh. One says “Yea, it’s a big un’, ain’t it?’
The other points to the notches on the stick where they’re keeping count of their conquests. “Got eight already this summer.”
Scooter, eyes big with excitement, not fear says, “Now we’ve really got something to watch out for.”
Terry, Barb and another grad, Kathy, have arrived while we are out nature walking. We’re happy to see them. Though we’re only separated for days or weeks at a time, our reunions with this crew mean party-time. Unfortunately we forgot to buy beer and come to find out that all the counties around our campsite are “dry”. We make do with a half bottle of bourbon and whip up a joint meal of ham and bean soup with chicken and rice.
Kathy our Tarot reader
Kathy lays out her Tarot cards and with a slight glow on, her powers seem to increase. Ray goes first. He’s the only one of the guys that pays any heed to the occult. I have just taken up astrology, but am not very good at it yet. These changing times of peace, love and protest have given rise to changing attitudes not only about war, but religion. We’re throwing off the bonds of that one righteous God and looking for new avenues of spirituality.
Terry and Barb have just returned from seeing an old high school friend and his new wife, who’ve gone the other way and have “received the Word of God’. Terry tells us the story of their story in the small town in Alabama where the “promised land” is now located. All the followers have migrated there according to the Prophet’s mandate, no matter that they had to leave their homes and jobs. T and B were invited to attend the “camp meeting” and went out of curiosity more than anything else. They got quite a show. Several well-dressed preachers were on stage sermonizing on how they got their fancy suits and cars. “All by the grace of God.” The congregation could have the same if they believed and followed the right path; amidst wild incantations, laying on of hands, falling to the ground in trances, and speaking in tongues. What a show! Is their belief any different than my Catholic upbringing, reading Tarot cards, astrology? Yes, a whole hell of a lot. Trying to make sense of things as my mind and the world expands, is a challenge.
We thank Elaine profusely for letting us invade her home, hug the gang good-bye, and set off on the “real” first leg of our journey. All three groups are initially going in different directions, but will gather together again for our first camping experience at Brushy Lake in the Alabama National Forest.
We load our cooler with food for the first time, then stop at a nearby park for lunch and breathe a sigh of relief for the peace and quiet. Terry and Barb gave us a road atlas as a parting gift and we map out our day’s journey.
Even with our new atlas, we get lost for the first time trying to follow a backwoods couples’ directions through the forest on many forked dirt roads. To the children’s continuing question “How much farther?” we continually answer “Just a few more miles,” that takes hours including all the wrong turns and backtracking. Ray’s nerves by now are totally frayed and tempers flare for not the first or last time. We finally leave the forest behind and drive into a very isolated camp. The kids erupt from the van and Nicole immediately asks “Where’s the bathroom?” which becomes her first question upon arrival in every campground. She’s not at all pleased with the pit toilets. “Yuck! It stinks. There’s just a hole with poopy in the bottom. I looked in.”
“I try to reason, “Well there’s no plumbing out here so this is it. They put chemicals down there to keep the germs away, but not the smell.”
“ I want a toilet. I’m not going in there.”
We raise the new 8×11 foot tent, big enough to serve as a home. Ray and kids build a fire and I enthusiastically cut up and fry chicken with all the fixing on the new camp-stove for our first meal in the woods. It does taste delicious, but cooking will get a lot more casual from now on. Scooter and Nicole are so excited with the new sleeping arrangements they can’t go to sleep. They’re not used to sleeping in the same “room” either, so after a sibling squabble they settle in, exhausted. We sit on a blanket by the fire, (No chairs yet. How’d we forget to buy chairs?) waiting for the rest of the gang to arrive and the kids go to sleep. They do.
We went to see Aunt Carole. Then we went to the playground and the junior museum.
The next morning the kids wore blisters on their hands on the monkey bars and other fancy play equipment and loved doing it. Then on to the Children’s Museum and Zoo featuring wild animals in their natural habitat and ending with a ride on an authentic red caboose.
Life and Deaf – The Second Day
Only a ninety mile run is planned for today; just to Chipley, Florida for our first rendezvous with Terry and Barb at her mother’s house. Our timing is not the best. Barb’s mother, Elaine has just gotten out of the hospital after having surgery and her tight-lipped expression and one word answers show she’s not only still sick and depressed that her daughter’s leaving, but upset that a whole family with two small children has arrived on her doorstep, uninvited by her, to spend the night. Barb gives us her old room. She and Terry sleep in the van. My two kids aren’t happy either. They still aren’t camping.
We awaken in the morning to find another camper parked in the driveway. Terry’s other classmates, Trudy, Herb and Kathy have arrived in the middle of the night. Oh my God, I didn’t realize we were all rendezvousing here. Now Elaine has more to be upset about. She’s crying through all this commotion because, “Barbara honey, you’re leaving for God knows where and I won’t have any way to get in touch with you. How could you do this to me?” Same story we got at my house.
We said good-bye to Grandma Green and Poppa Green and Grandma Ward and Poppa Ward. They cried. We love them.
***
We still have several stops before leaving the Sarasota Bradenton area. The rain continues to fall as do the tears. The children have been waiting so long to “go camping” and we aren’t even near that idyllic place. We still have several storage drop-offs and more good-byes. Our belongings are strewn all over the state of Florida and what we can’t store has been sold.
On to Sarasota to say good-bye to my sister Judi and her new boyfriend Pete. Her kids have gone to camp and Judi has a sad smile on her face lately. The pressures of living in a new relationship and starting a newspaper with him begin to weigh heavily upon her usual footloose and daring self, “Man, I wish we could come with you,” she sighs as we kiss and hug good-bye.
“Get a wild hair and do it. I love you sis.”
Next we drop Scooter’s hearing aid at the dealer’s. It was bound to break right after it was serviced and made ready for the trip. We no longer have an address so we’ll drive 2,000 miles to pick it up in Colorado Springs. The kids think that’s pretty exciting!
Our itinerary for the first day is to get as far as Tallahassee where Ray’s sister and husband live. We drive in the continuing torrential storm that follows us the whole way. The St. Petersburg Skyway Bridge looks enchanted suspended in foggy rain. The children are spellbound.
Nicole is jumping up and down on the back seat, “Mommy, it looks like Cinderella’s Castle ‘cept it’s a bridge.”
“Can we go back and do it again, Daddy? It’s like the best ride at Disney World.” Scooter is the daredevil.
Ray likes to honor his deadlines, “No, sorry kids. We’ll never make it to our first destination. Auntie Carol and Uncle Jeff are waiting for us.”
We arrive at dusk, eat dinner and begin to put the children to bed. By now they’re cranky and Scooter’s confused. “Aren’t we putting up the tent, or sleeping in the van?”
I explain, “Oh not tonight. We’ve got nice beds with sheets to sleep in tonight.”
Scooter whines, “but you said we were going camping. We always sleep in beds. That’s no fun.”
I smile, “Tomorrow we’re going to have some fun. Auntie Carol is taking you to the children’s museum and the zoo.” Nicole is too tired to complain. She loves to go to bed and is asleep as soon as she snuggles in.
Jesus! Are we ever glad to get out of the Camp Comfort. Glad but still cranky from lack of sleep. Seeing another ferryboat ahead is serendipitous. Traffic’s backed up more than a mile, but the kids forget all about their impatience and bad humor driving on to the ferry, crossing the lovely Lake Norfolk and into the mountains. We Florida flatlanders are excited to be driving winding roads into the mountains. By afternoon we enter quaint picturesque Eureka Springs on the narrowest and most tortuous road. “It’s like a rollercoaster!” yells Scooter, too excited to be carsick.
