The Long Road Home

Well, we finally made it home. But first we had a most interesting time after leaving Capitol Reef. Liz and Mom needed to be in Kentucky by the evening of Wednesday, August 6, as they were scheduled to lead a professional development workshop in Bowling Green on Thursday and Friday. And we didn't want the kids to have to drive all of that way with no stops. Weeks ago, we found the perfect place: Clinton State Park on the eastern edge of Kansas. It was the perfect place, with mountain biking trails, hiking, a massive, beautiful lake for kayaking, and plenty of open space for running around, playing ball, or whatever we wanted to do. And our campground loop was one paved, flat mile with virtually no traffic, the perfect place for the kids to ride their bikes. And so, despite having the most amazing time there, we left Capitol Reef earlier than we really needed to so that we could have a couple of days and nights at Clinton. We even drove super hard days, longer drives than we needed to, so we could get there early on our first day and essentially gain a day.

When we arrived at Clinton, it was even more than we expected. We had reserved the end two sites on the bluff above the lake, and easily had an acre if not two for our two campers. We got there, set up, got all of the kids' bikes out, went on a drive looking for firewood, and walked down to the water. It was quite hot, and so we set up the brand-new inflatable kiddie pool we have carried around with us for four years for just such a time. The children played and rode their bikes in the loop, then splashed in the pool while the grown ups cooled their feet in it. It was just perfect. I realized that it was getting late in the day, and that I had better get going if I wanted to get in a ride on the mountain bike trails. So I quickly changed, and headed to the trail, which (after a short portage down a steep staircase) left right from our campsite. And what a ride it was! It was a fun trail, and I rode several miles away from camp. Then, suddenly, as sometime happens on a bike in the woods, a gray-black cloud appeared in front of me. Gnats. Yuck. I took a deep breath, held it, and drove through them. Well, into them. You see, the cloud of gnats never stopped. There was no exit. I rode through them, as hard as I could, grabbing sips of air from the corner of my mouth. But, despite my efforts, there was no stopping them, and I choked and gagged as I rode. Finally, after about 15 minutes, I came to a cross street, and emerged from the woods. Despite the fun quality of the trail, I had to ride back on the street to get away from them. At one point, with the back of my throat coated in gnats, I just stopped and coughed and choked and gagged and wretched. I got back to camp, and my darling wife called out in a happy voice, “Honey, I made you dinner!” Um, thanks, but no thanks. After a quick post-ride shower I went into Mom and Dad's RV to join everyone else. We relaxed and played Scattergories for several hours until bedtime. I walked over to the door of our camper, where I had the porch light on. The front door was covered in gnats.

CHAPTER THREE

REVENGE OF THE GNATS

Somehow, because the light wasn't on, the gnats hadn't realized that we had a second entrance to the camper. We snuck inside, and turned out the porch light. It was at this point that we realized that we also had hundreds of gnats on the screens of our windows that we had opened to let in the fresh Kansas air. And then we discovered the fatal flaw. The way the windows are paned in our camper actually works as a sort of an airlock: when you close the glass, everything attached to the outside of the screen has a brief point of entry. And so it was that Liz and I were up until 1:30 am, swatting an estimated 350 gnats. Our only consolation was that gnats come out in the evening, and would be gone once morning arrived.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE DARKNESS

When we awoke, we were immediately aware that something was wrong. Terribly wrong. The sun was shining, but our humble abode seemed strangely dark. Rising from bed, we went to investigate. And at that moment, that terrible, dreadful moment, we saw the darkness, the hideous blackness of our once-white camper. The tens of thousands of gnats clinging to our sides, writhing about in all their horrific glory. We began to formulate a plan for escape from the camper, and from this abhorrent, bloodcurdling hellscape we call Kansas.

I had to warn the others.

I burst forth from our aluminum tomb after loudly pounding the door from the inside, waving a broom and towel as I went. I made my way to the others and sounded the alarm from outside the window. “There are millions of gnats!” I cried from outside their window. “We have a plan, but we have to leave! They are everywhere!”

After a brief pause came the reply. “Just come inside and we'll talk about it,” I heard them say. “It can't be as bad as that.”

“No, you don't understand!”

“What's the big deal?” The father asked, and rose from his bed inside.

“No!” I cried. “Don't open the door!” But I witnessed his form, lumbering toward the front and the entrance. The blackened, wriggling entrance. “Nooooooooooooooo!” I again cried, shrieked an alarm. But I was too late. He opened the door, slowly and fully.

“Oh, stop being so dramatic. Just come inside and we'll make a plan.”

“But, the gnats!” They enveloped him, swarming past, but he didn't seem to notice.

I waved the broom frantically to ward off the evildoers, and made my way inside, where we made plans to leave and head to St. Louis.

But then Mom and Dad spent the next two days with their camper so full of gnats... they were vacuuming the air.

St. Louis, Missouri

I've never been to St. Louis. Never had any reason to go to St. Louis. Never had any desire to go to St. Louis. But I'll say it now: I love St. Louis.

We found that rarest of creatures, the urban RV park, on the eastern bank of the Mississippi River, at the Casino Queen casino.

Interesting point #1: The Casino Queen used to be a riverboat casino, but grew too large for the boat. But since gaming is only allowed on the water, this massive casino, hotel, and property is actually built on piles above the water.

Interesting point #2: We fittingly reached our 100^th mile of hiking this summer while urban-hiking across the Mississippi.

Our first night we walked around downtown St. Louis, saw a few sites, and visited the arch and its visitor center. And ate the best Irish pub food ever at a place called Tigin.

Day 2 in St. Louis was very full. We went to the Missouri Botanical Gardens which was the very best gardens any of us have ever been to. And then we visited the Cathedral Basilica of St. Louis. I've never been to the Vatican, but I have been to Westminster Abbey. And while this place doesn't have the history, it is more beautiful than that.

We returned to “camp” (which is actually a parking lot with power and sewers) at about 4:00. Which was just enough time to formulate the rest of the plan. And that evening, Kieran and I went out to a St. Louis bar, and then he got to take in his first major league baseball game, watching the Cardinals beat in the Red Sox in a thriller.

While Liz and Mom worked in Kentucky for two days, the rest of us took in a cool one-hour tour at Lost River Cave (Boat ride in a cave? Awesome.) and took in another hour at the Corvette Museum. And, uh, that's it for Bowling Green. That's all there is to do there.

And at this point, Mom and Dad headed north, and the Gowmans headed south to Huntsville, AL for two days with Grandma Gowman, Aunt Janice, and our Alabama cousins. Two hard, full days of driving and a stop at Gus's outside of Nashville brought us back to scenic Victor, New York.

HERE ENDETH THE BLOG.

THE WORD OF MARK.