With apologies to Clement Clark Moore and the poem first published December 23, 1823, in the Troy Sentinel newspaper, upstate New York:
’Twas the night before leaving, when all thro’ the house,
Not a creature was stirring, thank God, not a mouse;
… Jim and Anna were nestled all snug in their bed,
While visions of camping danc’d in their heads …
Saturday, Dec. 10, we took possession of the camper I mentioned in my November article. After spending a few hours at the dealership and learning about all the features new to us, we discovered the stove would have to be replaced. Later. OK. I was prepared to microwave like a champ. Who needs gas burners and an oven for four days of meal making?
Jim determined we’d make Prophetstown State Park in Lafayette the destination of our maiden voyage. It fit three of his criteria for selecting our journey’s end. It was one of only two campgrounds in Indiana still offering full hook-ups this time of year. Spring Mill State Park in Mitchell had the hook-ups, but the main lodge is under re-construction and the caves are closed. Prophetstown is closer, a 1 hour and 51 minute drive from Warsaw, and we’ve never been there. We have visited Spring Mill. The cover of my camping journal reads “Once a year go someplace you’ve never been before.” Full hook-ups. Check! Never been there. Check!
The third criterion was having someone we knew nearby — just in case something should go terribly wrong and we needed a place to stay or some kind of rescue. Jim’s son, Matt, works in Earhart Dining Hall at Purdue and lives in Lafayette. Also, good friends of ours, Mike and Carol, formerly locals, now live in West Lafayette. In fact, they recommended Prophetstown to us months ago. Someone in the area. Check! Check!
The Happy Campers, including Java, our chocolate lab, left Warsaw at 5:40 p.m. Monday, Dec. 12, with an ETA of 7:31. We’re famous for camping calamities. Recall my July 22, 2020, article where I explained Jim snagged the telephone pole at the end of our driveway as we embarked on the first trip with our previous camper.
The first calamity of this trip was prevented thanks to a neighbor who noticed we’d left our garage door open. “Come one, come all! Help yourself to anything and everything!” Because of poor cell reception, we didn’t learn about our oversight until 7:30. By then our neighbor had rectified the problem by closing the garage door and locking up behind her. Calamity averted!
By the time we learned of our forgetfulness, we were deep into the real calamity. Siri’s faulty directions when we got near Prophetstown SP sent us down a road closed due to bridge work. Instead of backing up, Jim turned down a clearly marked “No Outlet,” hoping to turn around in a resident’s driveway. The last option happened to be heavily wooded, but we pulled in. Jim explained to the homeowner that we were just hoping to turn around and be on our way. While jockeying for a better position to back up, we heard a SKREEEEEK. Jim exited the truck to check the damage. A large branch had scraped the camper’s awning. A few choice words exited Jim’s mouth. The homeowner came out to help direct our efforts to get back on the winding road. I remained in the truck silently praying. After about 15 minutes of back and forth, a little to the left, a little to the right, we were back on the “No Outlet” road again.
Praise the Lord!
From the driveway to the road where we turned was about the length of two football fields (240 yards, give or take the end zones). I put on my coat, scarf, and Notre Dame knitted cap and left the comfort of the truck’s cab with a small flashlight to begin the arduous task of directing the backing-up process in the dark.
Here’s the picture. I’m walking backwards and sideways behind and to the left of the camper within Jim’s side mirror vision, waving that tiny flashlight. At times I’m yelling “LEFT,” “RIGHT,” “STRAIGHT,” “TREE,” “STOP,” “CAR COMING,” and “SLOW DOWN.” After 30 minutes creeping backwards, we made it onto the roadway, and we reached the campground at 8:51. We appreciated pull-through site 120, parked, and settled “our brains for a long (almost) winter’s nap” with the calamity behind us.
In the July 2020 camping calamities article I said “every adventure provides opportunities to learn about other places.” On Tuesday we visited Prophetstown Farm (closed for the season) and walked around watching volunteers feed livestock. Wednesday morning we drove to Purdue, visited Matt, ate lunch, and got a tour of Earhart Dining Hall. We repaid him with a four-course dinner on Thursday evening. Wednesday evening we escaped to Mike and Carol’s for dinner and conversation. What do folks of 66 years plus talk about? Families. Friends and acquaintances we share. Trips taken. Books read. Health issues, of course — breast cancer, hemorrhoids, colonoscopies, broken hip, failing eyesight, arthritis, etc. Thursday we made the trip to Tippecanoe Battleground Memorial and Museum. Suffice it to say, we learned a lot, and we’ll definitely return when the weather is warmer to enjoy more of what there is to do around Lafayette.
Here’s the Thing: With temperatures fluctuating between 30 and 50 degrees during the week and weather conditions giving us everything from just clouds to torrential rains — clocking wind gusts up to 61 mph—to a light snowfall, our new camper kept us safe and warm. It was snowing and 27 degrees when we parked in our driveway at 6:42 p.m. Friday. I imagine Santa will endure a much wider variety of weather conditions on Christmas Eve. I’ll bet if we listen closely
We will hear him exclaim as he drives out of sight-
“Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”
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Editor’s Note: This is one of a series of articles written by a group of retired and current teachers — Ken Ballinger, Billy Kreigh, Marianne Darr-Norman, and Anna Spalding. Their intent is to spur discussions at the dinner table and elsewhere. You may also voice your thoughts and reactions via The News-Banner’s letters to the editor.
