Journal Day 3

Today, we got up at about 6:30 a.m. to prepare for a ½ day trip down the Green River. While Dad got ready for the day, the boys and I headed to the Travertine Restaurant to try their breakfast buffet. The boys stuffed themselves with French toast, sausage, biscuits and gravy and orange juice and I ate my absolute favorite ever breakfast – oatmeal, fruit and milk. A breakfast for champions – and we definitely needed it.

We swooped back by the room to pick up Dad and head back out to Cave City and the Green River Canoeing company where we would pick up our canoe and lifejackets. After signing the necessary paperwork that assured the company that we would not sue them if we all landed in the river and suffered bodily injury – we piled in the van and headed to the drop off point at Dennison Ferry.

Our canoe was a green, plastic three-seater. The company gave us two oars – one long and one short. The loading dock was twenty-five steps down some stairs and was just wide enough for one boat at a time. The driver took one look at the boating customers – a family of three with a 5-year-old girl; a nice couple, their grandparents and their two toddler children from Japan; a father/son team; and the family of four with two boys from Kansas – and loaded us in the water first.

The trip down river began like any other. Green trees, peaceful water, partly cloudy skies with plenty of shade and plenty of sunlight. My oldest was in the front with a paddle, I was in the middle seat with my youngest on a pad at my feet and Dad was holding up the rear. We floated the first couple of miles chatting about the nature that we saw, watching my youngest trailing leaves and his hands in the water and getting splashed occasionally by the wild paddler in the front of the boat.

At one turn, we smelled a little bit of nature taking care of its dead and dying at which point my youngest immediately removed his hands from the water. “That’s the last time I’m puttin’ my hands in that!” he announced with great conviction. Shortly thereafter, we got out of the canoe on a small island and walked around for a while. The pull of the water was too much and our six-year-old was soon back in the water, hands feet and body scrounging for living river clams to pick up, proclaim found, and return to the water.

We loaded back in the boat a little wetter than when we started and headed back down river thinking we would soon dry out. Shortly downstream we began to hear a low rumble. As we continued to paddle, a nice gentle rain began. “Raindrops keep fallin’ on my head,” I sang. Then, we looked ahead. “Look at that,” my husband said calmly. “A wall of rain, heading our way.” And it sure was.

We paddled to a steep, muddy shoreline and took shelter under an overhanging tree for the slightly more than gentle rainstorm. The tree managed to keep us and the canoe dry. “Should we start out?” asked my husband. After tuning in to the sound of the storm, I suggested that we stay put for just a little longer. We were glad that we did.

Here came the next pass – but this time it was a little more than a rainstorm. The skies opened and completely drenched us. We were slightly sheltered under the tree, but the rain was too heavy and coming too fast for the leaves to hold. Now, not only were we dealing with the rain, but we had two boys that were more than a little freaked out by being outside, with no roof over their heads, and caught smack dab in the middle of a storm that most like to view from their windows. We also had a canoe that was beginning to fill with a little water.

Out of the canoe we came. We scrambled up the muddy bank as much as we could. I was completely occupied calming a very frightened six-year-old and my oldest was pulling it together to help his dad tip the canoe over to dump the water and keep more water from pooling in the bottom.

After a while in this very precarious position, it became apparent that the weather under the tree was worse than the weather outside of it. So, we tipped the canoe back over and headed out again – with one small change. “Mom, you paddle,” came the request from the two boys. “Let’s just get back to the hotel.” And, so, with only six miles further to go, mom and dad paddled the canoe back out into the overcast skies.

As it turned out, we only had to seek shelter one more time – during which Dad maneuvered the canoe under a low hanging, muddy branch that quickly deposited a softball size clump of mud onto the top of my head. The boys of course thought this was hilarious – and it did help to lighten the tension coming from our youngest son. So, mom took one for the team.

This next rain shower was short lived and we were able to push back downstream fairly quickly. It is amazing how such an adventure can bond complete strangers together. For the remainder of the trip we ended up passing several folks who had pulled over to attempt to dry out just a bit. We felt somehow closer to these kindred river spirits and they to us. We waved. We passed greetings back and forth. And, we laughed together. One elderly gentleman summed it up by saying as we passed, “Did you run into a little rain back there?”

On this final section of the river, we held some deep, family discussions about “That which doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” We marveled at a deer eating leaves close by the shore. And, we sang “The Bear Song.” When it ended, we were ready to be done.

After docking at the Green River Ferry takeout and storing our canoe, oars and lifejackets for pickup, we headed back to the hotel for lunch and a much needed shower. We relaxed for just a few minutes until it was time for our cave tour in the afternoon.

Mammoth Cave is the world’s longest known cave and has 15 options of tours ranging from an extremely easy, self guided nature hike around the historic entrance of the cave to a six and ½ hour crawling, belly sliding, wall climbing, honest-to-goodness spelunking experience.

The Kansas Hicks’ chose the River Styx tour – one that focuses on how the cave was formed by the forces of water. Our tour took us to the very bottom of the cave (360 feet or a little more than the length of a football field) and up and down 497 stairs. At the bottom, we saw the Dead Sea, the River Styx and the Echo River – tributaries of the Green River and the very same rivers that are continuing to form the cave passages and shafts that we were exploring.

There were several highlights on the tour – not the least of which was the bathroom stop halfway through. The boys were absolutely impressed with the fact that the bathroom ceiling was rock from the cave. We also saw a cave cricket. The park ranger bringing up the rear said it was a female and shone her flashlight on it so that she could show the boys just how she could tell that marvelous piece of information. We also stopped in the very same spot where Ralph Waldo Emerson penned some lines of poetry describing his experience. Our tour guide read the stanzas that referred to the places where we were standing and looking.

When we returned to the surface, we finished our junior ranger papers, got our stamp in our national park passport book, heard the boys’ successful completion announced over the loud speaker, got their badges, and headed to eat while our bodies acclimated to being above ground in the more heated, humid environment.

After dinner, we walked off the incredible meal by walking around the park grounds for a while and then returned to our room for bed. What an incredible day. What an incredible park. And we haven’t even scratched the surface.

Vacation Journal Day 2

Another day of driving. And this one felt like it. The Hicks family has been cooped up in a car too long.

We woke fairly early this morning and grabbed breakfast at the hotel. We headed east on Highway 60 to the convergence of the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers. We crossed two tall bridges and the boys were thrilled to discover a tugboat pushing barges strapped 3 wide and 6 deep.

Then it was meandering back roads through Kentucky until we reached our first pit stop at Paducah’s visitor center on the grounds of Whitehaven. We weren’t able to tour the antebellum home as tours didn’t begin until the afternoon, but we did eat our snack on the gracious benches outside the back door. What a deal.

Then it was on east to more Interstate driving. We drove past the Kentucky and Cumberland Dams. These dams were interesting to drive over because of the lock system that both contained. The boys were reminded of Grandpa’s recent explanation of the lock system through the Panama Canal. This was an opportunity to see a lock up close and personal.

And then we drove. And we drove. And we drove some more. And this time, the boys were not tired. They did not nap. It was brutal. Our lunch stop wasn’t even very interesting. It was a roadside service station parked on an asphalt and cement oasis in the middle of the divided highway. Definitely nothing to write home about.

After four long hours on the road, we reached Hodgenville, Kentucky and the Abraham Lincoln Birthplace on Sinking Spring Farm. This probably would have been a pretty neat experience had we not just finished a 6 hour drive.

The boys, who were extremely cranky, wanted to do the junior ranger program – but didn’t want to take the time to do the work required. This created several heated discussions about making decisions and, once made, committing to a task.

We attempted to lighten the mood by going on one of the shorter hikes around the park. A little time among God’s creation – we spotted several gray squirrels and paused to watch a small woodpecker – worked some of its magic. Because of the hike, the boys were able to relax and learn a few things.

For example, my oldest was surprised to learn the Association that created the park had among it’s membership several famous Americans: Samuel Clemons (a.k.a. Mark Twain) and President Taft just to name two. We had fun counting the penny display in the visitor center lobby. Using some third grade math skills, my oldest and I estimated it contained around 14,000 pennies. We also learned interesting things about how Abraham Lincoln grew up, how many brothers and sisters he had and that the Holy Bible was the first book that little Abe ever saw (it was on display). We learned that on February 12, 2009 the nation will celebrate the 200th anniversary of the birth of our 16th President.

Outside of the visitor’s center, we enjoyed going to the bottom of the sinking spring. There was a noticeable, and much needed, drop in temperature on the way down. We sat at the bottom of this little area for about 10 minutes doing some of the junior ranger paperwork until we were chased out by another family. We also climbed the 56 steps (one for each year of Lincoln’s life) to the Memorial where a symbolic replica of the original Lincoln home is protected inside a granite memorial building. The building was created by the same man who did the Jefferson Memorial and the National Archives and looks very much like the architecture of the D.C. located Lincoln Memorial.

We did the final crossword, sent dad and our youngest on a mission to find the answer the final question by the spring and the boys went to the ranger station to get their official, plastic, junior ranger badge. The ranger was a good guy and did a good job getting the boys to laugh and smile.

And then, we were off -- again. After a short stop at Lincoln’s childhood home at Knob Creek – and the place of his earliest memories, we turned south to Mammoth Cave.

We ate dinner at tourist trap central in Cave City and headed on into the park to our hotel. A long day ended in Room number 159 facing the woods. We have a small balcony with a couple of chairs facing a quiet, dark peaceful wood. The room is serviceable, much like last night’s except with the addition of a much needed refrigerator. As I write, the boys are in bed and we are quietly watching the weather channel on TV.

I believe that we are all thankful that we will be doing lots of things tomorrow – but one of them will NOT be driving.

Today was a driving day. We left Winfield at about 8:45 a.m. and headed east through Dexter to hook up with Highway 166 which we drove on for the remainder of our stay in Kansas. We drove through Coffeyville and got to see the flood damage from last year first-hand. It appears that the cleanup is progressing and there is quite a lot of new construction on the west side of town – above the flood line.

Our first stop was in Chetopa – the catfish and pecan capital of Kansas. The car needed some food ($3.99 per gallon), and so did the boys. We snacked on beef jerky, apples, plums and water on the banks of the Neosho River.

After our snack, we got back in the car and headed to I-44 and Missouri. On the very edge of Kansas the empty skyline was interrupted by a tall, pink 15-20 story tall hotel. Turns out it was the brand new Downstream Casino and Resort run by the Quapaw Tribe. It was by far the most unusual sight of the day.

We hit Springfield, Missouri at lunch time and stopped at Nathaniel Greene Park in the middle of town (just a few blocks west of the Bass Pro Shop). This is an out-of-the way park that has several gardens managed by the Botanical Society of Southwest Missouri. After sandwiches, we paid a small admission fee ($3 per adult) and toured the 7.5 acre Mizumoto Japanese Stroll Garden.

Springfield’s Sister City – Isesaki, Japan – assisted with the development of the park which was started in 1985. The garden uses stepping stones, lanterns and a very cool tea hut as decorative elements. The tea hut reminded the boys of the Kung Fu Panda movie which instantly threw them into reenactments of several of the karate moves from the movie. The garden surrounds several ponds and islands and uses what is called the “hide and reveal” concept that hides pieces of the garden from view until you round the next curve on the path.

Needless to say, we had a blast discovering the many hidden aspects of the garden. Of particular note was a rock pathway across one of the ponds to a grassy island in the middle. The five, rock stepping stones were approximately two feet in diameter and spaced one foot apart. The water was very deep around them so getting out to the island felt very much like we were taking part in an Indiana Jones blockbuster. On another side of the pond, our six-year-old discovered a small, wooden fishing dock tucked in amongst some trees and cattails – very, very cool. If you are ever in Springfield, you need to look it up.

After this successful lunch break, we jumped back in the car, beating a rainstorm by about 30 seconds, and transferred to Highway 60 to continue east across Missouri. We got as far as Van Buren before feeling the urge to get out of the car again for a snack. (It was about the time the boys woke up from a blissfully peaceful nap.)

The town of Van Buren holds a public access ramp to the lazy Current River which meanders its way through the Ozarks from headwaters in Dent County to the southern Missouri border and on south. We got out of the car to eat a snack and watched several vacationers float by on canoes and inner tubes. Nearby, was a pebble beach with a party of beer guzzling natives entrenched upon it – we stayed away from that area.

It was easy to see why the spot was so popular. The water was the clearest that we had seen in a while – a stark contrast to the muddy Neosho. It looked so good that we cut our stop short so we didn’t have to haul two boys from Kansas out from the rocky regions near the shoreline. They were not happy with us.

And so it was on to our first location for the evening – the Super 8 at Poplar Bluff. We got there at about 5:30 p.m. Not too fancy, but serviceable and quiet. We went out to eat at the 5 Star China Buffet. Kids buffets were $1 and there were endless amounts of food.

We all tried something that we had never eaten before. My husband choked down some sushi and a baked mussel. (This is the same man who’s idea of going to a fancy seafood restaurant is eating the shrimp & fish platter at Long John Silvers. I told him that I was proud of him for trying something new.) I also had sushi for the very first time. (Loved it – and unlike the person beside me – I did not entertain the table with funny faces while chewing and swallowing.) Our youngest tried sushi and, on a dare from his older brother, seaweed. Our oldest ate sea weed for the first time. Two of us will probably continue eating what we tried. The other two – not so much.

Most of the day was overcast and marked by low hanging rain clouds. The rain was intermittent and seemed to stop for us just long enough for us to take our breaks. It was a good day, we ended it with a very peaceful evening at the hotel.

Yoda

Tomorrow’s departure for vacation was somewhat dampened by tragedy tonight. On my way back to work from lunch, I received a call from the sitter, “Uhh, we have a situation here.”

It turns out that God decided to call our good old friend Yoda, the pet hamster, back home. My oldest son had gone upstairs to clean out Yoda’s cage before taking him to our hamster sitter. He discovered Yoda’s body shortly after I left the house.

Yoda lived to a ripe, old 2.5 years. He was curious. He was friendly. He loved to be held cupped between your two hands with his head sticking out between your thumbs and index fingers. He loved exploring the dark corners of the house in his hamster ball. He loved to eat fresh peas and corn, scurrying to the top of his cage whenever either one entered the room.

Yoda lay in state in a shoe box in our living room for the remainder of the afternoon. My son had fashioned a cushy bed out of some toilet paper with a cotton ball pillow. When we got home from work we held a brief service in the back yard. We read from Psalms 50:10-11 and Psalms 136:25. We each said a few words about Yoda. We wished him well in the afterlife. We said a short prayer thanking God for allowing us to take care of him while he walked the earth. We laid him in the ground.

Now, in our backyard flower garden, behind the day lilies and not too far from the sound of the waterfall is a small mound of dirt. My husband helped my son fashion a grave marker for Yoda out of a 1 by 4. It says, “Yoda, a happy pet,” on the front and the year of his birth and death on the back. A small bouquet of pink tulips decorates the humble grave.

We will miss him.

“For all the animals of the forest are mine, and I own the cattle on a thousand hills. Every bird of the mountains and all the animals of the field belong to me.” Psalm 50:10-11

Vacation Pre-Game

Vacation Journal – PreGame

Did I tell you we are going on vacation? I am sooooooooo excited. I’ve been excited for a year now. I almost have as much fun planning for the vacation as I do going on the vacation itself! My itinerary is done. Roads and stops are calculated and marked. Reservations – where necessary – are made. Tickets are bought. Car is confirmed. Look out Smoky Mountains, here we come!

Three days and counting:
I’ve charged the boys with thinking about what they want to take in the car for entertainment. We’ve narrowed it down to their electronic, handheld game systems, DVD player, three movies a piece and a good book. My youngest also wants to take his coloring books and markers. My oldest wants to take his art set and sketch paper. Done.

I just talked my husband down from the purchase of a new suitcase just for the novelty of it. (See previous post about WALL E.) Have clarified that we will need two suitcases for the boys and one big one for the hubby and I. We will probably also take a smaller one for the trip down and back so we can leave the big one in the car.

I learned my lesson on taking tons of food to Yellowstone. I’ve located a grocery store near our cabin and we’ll stop there on the first day. For the trip down, I’m taking enough snack food and water for four days and packing a lunch and dinner for the first day.

The state books and maps are stowed in a bag. I’m working on my entertainment bag. I checked out three books from the library and bought the latest Janet Evanovitch. I ran across mom’s knitting bag that she always took on trips. My oldest wants me to finish the Steelers scarf that I started for him to teach myself how to crochet. I’ve made my list and I’m checking it twice. Three days to go.

Two days and counting:
Worked all day to get ready for the auditors. They will be showing up a couple of days after I return. Had a couple of meetings too. Tonight is 4-H. Fair entries are due this week so we’ve got to get those handed in for both boys. My oldest will be entering a photograph and a drawing this year. My youngest is making a blankie replacement for the one we lost at DisneyWorld.

One day and counting:
Today is laundry day. Laundry, laundry, laundry. More and more laundry. I had no idea how much laundry boys can produce….but they can really produce it, let me tell you. Tonight is church council. We have a new pastor and this will be the first time that I get a chance to really meet him. The boys are getting their football gear for fall while I’m at the meeting.

Done with counting, vacation begins tomorrow!
Today I picked up the car at Enterprise. We will be representin’ in a black Ford Edge. The gauge on the dash says that it gets about 23 miles to the gallon in town. Hopefully we can do better on the highway. Went to the grocery store to pick up the food. Stopped by Walmart for tic-tacs and gum. Tonight we packed, packed and packed and packed again.

WALL E

Irony. Definition: 1) Humor based on opposites, 2) something humorous based on contradiction, 3) incongruity

We just saw WALL E Fantastic movie, everyone should watch it – an honest to goodness, against all odds, unlikely, underdog kind of everyman hero movie. I laughed, I cried. The boys had a great time. I was glad we spent the $18 after the short cartoon about the fight between the prestidigitator and his bunny. Pixar has done it again. They rock.

And, the movie definitely had a message. You have to be pretty dim to not be slapped sideways on the face with a futuristic – but not all that far-fetched – kind of vision of the future. How scary. A future where earth is so trashed, we make it inhabitable. We have to evacuate and leave the clean up to WALL E robots. And then we become a race of blobs totally absorbed in electronic worlds – so absorbed we loose touch with our surroundings. Living our whole life on a spaceship and not even noticing that it has a pool, constantly sucking dessert through a straw.

As luck would have it, this time we didn’t have time to stop at the refreshment counter to get our normal gob of candy, popcorn and soda before the movie. When the lights came up in the theater, I was able to walk out with some of my dignity intact.

I noticed every single piece of trash on the road back home. I drove by Walmart and thought of all the ridiculous, unnecessary “stuff” that comes back to our house from that location. I stopped myself from saying “no” on principle to a Sonic stop for a sundae for the boys – calculating just how much exercise that they had gotten in the past couple of days. When the treat came, I was relieved to see it was served in recyclable plastic as opposed to the normal Styrofoam that comes out of those doors.

And then I looked at the dash of the car. Sitting there, larger than life was a blue, plastic, “WALL E” watch that both boys got on the way into the theater. “A gift,” the lady behind the counter said. “Thank Disney.”

My oldest was trying to set his to the right time – couldn’t get it to work. “This is a piece of junk,” he said. “Look mom, it’s made in China.”

Did they do it on purpose? I wonder…..

Fire Cracker

“Mom, last night was a blast!” said my son as we were driving this morning.

Last night was July 4, 2008. My son and I were headed to Humboldt to set up for a family reunion dinner. We had spent the night before at my aunt and uncle’s farm where he and his brother got to shoot fireworks – real fireworks – for the first time.

My oldest son has had an uneasy relationship with fireworks. He spent the first five years of his life watching our hometown’s celebration from the cab of our truck with his hands over his ears. They were bright. They were loud. He wanted no part of them.

But that was then. Now, he is 10 years old and experienced in the ways of the world. He’d just spent three days at 4-H camp where he fought caterpillars; did KP duty; even danced with a girl. He was ready.

And, to be honest, isn’t shooting off your own personal fireworks on the 4th of July some kind of rite of passage? Really, a person has not truly experienced Independence Day until you’ve felt the adrenalin rush as you run from the spitting fuse of a freshly lit firecracker.

From a purely parental and fiduciary responsible position, shooting off fireworks is really stupid. You spend way too much money purchasing gunpowder dressed up in cardboard tubes with names like “Golden Flower,” “Armageddon,” and “The Hulk.” You wait, until things are really good and dark so that you cannot properly see. And then, surrounded by excited children armed with slow burning sticks, you light fire to these creations and watch the money that you spent blow up into light, smoke and noise.

I wonder, is there a reason they call the sticks “punks?”

But, you do it anyway. You do it because of the light in your child’s eye that has nothing to do with the fire or the evening light. You do it because you remember what it felt like to be 10 on a warm summer night hanging with your family in the starlight. You do it because the next day, you get to drive in the car with your son and hear him say with sincerity that embraces your heart, “Mom, last night was a blast!”