Friday, we left my older sister's house in a three car (all right, two car and a van...) caravan. Our first stop in this nonsense trip? Beck's Farm, off exit 25 near Newton, Kansas.
My mom and I chatted along about things like petroleum-based fertilizer, Gene Logsdon, human waste, and farming. Wait, was that Dad exiting? And C (dear BiL)? And, oh, that was exit 25? Pretty soon Mom's phone is ringing, with my older sister making sure we knew we missed the exit. Yup, we'll turn around... We did, we arrived, bought lots of lovely-looking fruit for our trip, and headed again. That was only stop 1 on the Voboril family vacation.
Stop 2? McPherson, only 30 minutes up the road, to have lunch at
Krehbiels Meat Market and Deli. I opted for the brisket, the Screamer wanted mac'n'cheese, and the Assistant had a burger. All the kids were SLIGHTLY wound up, and ran around the store laughing. Fortunately, adults outnumbered children on this vacation, 'cuz that's how we do it on a Voboril family vacation. On our way out the door, we observed three cyclists hauling some serious camping gear. I wonder how far they were going?
Next up, adventuring out into Middle of Nowhere, Kansas. It is Voboril family tradition that our vacations be to out-of-the-way, nothing-to-do places that no one else would elect for "prime vacation action." But, as you will see, there was plenty to do and see, and that's how we roll on a Voboril family vacation.
At LaCrosse, after a missed road out of McPherson, Mom and I stopped for gas and a quilt shop. We passed the quilt shop once (almost twice) because it was lacking a big sign. Fortunately for me, the quilt shop (the Patchwork Place), is going out of business September 5, so everything was 40% off. She had been in business for 36 years and did all her math by hand. I enjoyed a bit of cheap shopping.
After LaCrosse, we headed north to the Cedar Bluffs Resevoir, where we would be sleeping and joining up with
Alzbe and her Volkswagon crew. Unbeknownst to us, we had to drive on the dam to reach the state park office. Why does it matter, the unwary reader may ask? Because my dad simply doesn't DO heights. Not mountains with their hairpin turns, not large, arching bridges, and certainly not roads on dams where the guard rail was less than a foot high (because you want an unobstructed view of the dam, doncha know?). Ooops. Mom said, "Oh, Dad is going to be so mad at me!" We all apologize for that mistake about 100 times; Dad said it was fine, and no one did it on purpose.
We checked in and followed the road to our two cabins. One would attempt to contain my family (minus DH) and Alzbe's, while the other held Mom, Dad, and my single, second-youngest brother (J), and my older sister's family (M, C, and CII). The cabin for our family bore the name Flyway and was decorated with ducks and antlers. The other cabin, the Gobbler's Roost, obviously had to contain turkey decorations... and antlers. Our cabin had apparently been built to be handicap-accessible, with a ramp and accessible shower. Little did we anticipate that the larger bathroom would mean the bedroom for Alzbe's crew would be big enough for a small bunk bed and a shoehorned-in- Pack'n'Play. And nothing else. Nothing. 'Cuz that's how things go on a Voboril family vacation.
The lovely reservoir and state park spread out below us. What would you imagine the most prominent sign was? It was so frequent that the Assistant, by the end of our stay, could read "NO FISH" fluently. No fish in the fridge. No fish cleaning in the cabin. No fish refuse in the trash dumpster. No fish. No fish. NO FISH. Good thing we weren't fishin'. The other thing there was NOt? An oven. I had intended to bake biscuits for breakfast Saturday morning, so this was going to call for some creative cooking, but that is another post, another day.
M, CII, J, and my girls went swimming in the lake while Bear Cub Q and I unpacked.
Alzbe and her crew arrived. We were all most excited to see Anni (we love you too, Alzbe and Daniel!).
M and C provided dinner in the form of sandwiches, including a wax-dipped wheel of Wisconsin cheddar. Yum. We also shared in the Beck's Farm fruit, but Mom was toasted and the rest of us disappointed when we discovered all the berries, still in their BF's containers, were full of moldy, squashy, inedible fruit.
After dinner, we opted to search for
Threshing Machine Canyon. Here settlers had been massacred by Native Americans in 1867, and there are carvings still visible from various other travelers through the canyon. The advice from the state park office was less than helpful. A rough map, some indications of a shelter and parking spot, and a warning for snakes. But there were supposed to be carvings from the 1800's, and we love our little slices of history and cheap thrills, so we were off in two vehicles. One could actually see our cabins from the road we ended up on, but we had to drive 5 miles to get there.
We spied a crazy A-frame house, probably someone's private cabin, and wanted to hike up to it, but were voted down (very sensibly) by the other vehicle. Two dead ends later, we were no closer to our goal. Finally, our vehicle made a mad stop at the bottom of gully, Alzbe and I scrambled out and ran through the "snake and tick infested" grass ('cuz all tall grass is teeming with nasty wildlife, right? Just kidding) and FOUND CARVINGS form 1859. After a picture or two, we high-tailed it back to the car to catch up with the others, who were by this time deeply concerned about our safety. Our van is not the, well, not the most reliable vehicle at times, so there WAS a distinct possibility that all electrical systems had failed and we were dead in the water. We've had it happen before, 'cuz that's how we do things on a Voboril family vacation. Fortunately for all of us, we were only discovering the canyon. Alzbe, Daniel, and I chattered in excitement about our discovery and intention to return.
I should have mentioned, the entire drive and search for the canyon, we were seeing more white tail deer than I had ever seen in my life.
Upon arriving home, all were exhausted. A few communal baby showers later (the bathing kind, not gift kind), and struggles to put said babies to sleep, we were ready to crash.
But, wait! The end of the day most blessedly contained evening prayer shared with M, C, the adults of our cabin, and my girls (who cried alligator tears and professed to be afraid of the dark. Another story for another time). And that, of course, is how we do it on a Voboril family vacation.
Sibs and parents, if any of this is not to your recollection, or if you would like to add to the story, please let me know. You have my email, or leave a comment here!
Night came, and morning followed. It was Saturday. And that, my friends, is enough for now. DH is being most polite in watching the kids while I write this.
from the room of Zana's Ninis,
katie z.
