King Of Marion

So, spring break. Woooo spring break!

Last Wednesday morning I picked John up at his mom's (after dropping off Dora and Rascal at Mr. Angeletti's) and we went to the dentist. New insurance, new dentist, but John and I both liked him. That probably had something to do with both of us getting a good report, no cavities, all that. We both did some gagging, though, because that runs in the family.

The dental hygienist did say I had a narrow palate.

Wait, I thought, did she just call me a pussy? I think that's how they talk bad about people.

Anyway, the dentist was fine. We grabbed lunch and left Marion by noon.

If you drive into Arkansas from Memphis you will see the big over-the-interstate signs that say WRECK AHEAD or AMBER ALERT or ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE REPENT SINS. Lately, the signs have said CONSTRUCTION 75 MILES AHEAD EXPECT DELAYS.

Pay attention to these signs.

Just past Brinkley, in the pouring rain, traffic stopped dead. For maybe thirty minutes. What can you do? I turned off the truck and John and I watched a big chunk of Fantastic Mr. Fox.

We rolled into Hot Springs about four that afternoon. Here was the deal: there's an RV park over by Lake Hamilton that will set up a tent for you, and it cost about the same as the other campgrounds around town. Or you can drive out in the sticks and camp for free. I'm all about convenience.

So we get there and the place is pretty, and close to everything, and the owner had set up out tent under the big porch where they have cookouts and parties in the summer.

"It's supposed to rain over the next couple of days, so I thought y'all might want to be under here..."

"You were exactly right," I told him. I've spent my share of cold, wet, rainy nights in a leaky tent.

"The bathrooms are right around the corner...." he continued.

"Excellent."

"And I usually make coffee around eight in the morning when I come in..."

Stop trying to sell me on the place!

It was pretty ideal. Still sleeping outside, in a tent, which satisfied our camping jones, but under cover and with all the conveniences close by. Score!

It was cool and threatening rain, so we went to the indoor mini-golf place with a Jurassic Park/glow in the dark theme. Fun. Then go carts. I imagine I now know what the parent of a teenager feels like when he has to white-knuckle it through the first few driving lessons. Riding with John going an easy twenty miles an hour was exciting.

Then we wandered around the Arlington and the lower parts of the mountain by the bath houses. After some dinner, we were back at camp. I built a nice tall sippin' drink.

Now, when you camp you have to have a fire, right? I had asked the owner when I made the reservation, and he told me since the RV park was in the city limits they couldn't have fire rings. I was welcome to bring a fire pit, though, and wood.

That's an advantage to having a truck: when you go camping you can take everything. So John and I had loaded up the fire pit and a few small trees worth of wood. Soon we had a huge roaring fire to poke and tend to. Perfect.

Thursday was insanity. In brief:

• Breakfast at the Pancake Shop.
• The alligator farm! We both got to hold an alligator. So, so worth it.
• Mid-America Science Museum.
• Oaklawn. Corned beef sandwich, and we watched a race right on the rail. John and I were both convinced number seven would win. He barely managed to finish.
• Thirty-six holes of pirate-themed mini-golf. That was actually pretty awesome.
• A little more go-carting.
• Dinner.
• Fishing! We caught nothing, but we had some good fellowship.
• Another huge fire, which we had to move a couple of times when the pleasant little old couple in the camper nearby got kind of irate as their house filled up with smoke. Some people who were also staying nearby came over and asked if they could cook hot dogs over our fire. We were glad to have them.

Around ten or so that night lightning started to flash all over the sky. John and I closed up the truck and got undercover just before the bottom absolutely fell out and it poured rain. We were snug, warm and dry in our tent and slept like innocents.

And Friday morning we climbed the mountain then had a delicious lunch at Cici's before we headed back to Marion. We took the highway 70 about half the way back to avoid the traffic that had caught us on Wednesday. There was something timeless about it: a man and his son, in a truck, coming back from camping, driving through Lokoke and Carlisle and Des Arc.

"I'd like to start these days over and do them all again," John said. I agreed.