potato creek

We're back from a badly planned quick weekend getaway to Potato Creek State Park. I say badly planned because we really didn't think through the logistics of getting everything we would need packed up and ready to go as soon as I got off work Friday, so although we got the basics (bedding and clothes and toiletries and clothes and enough food to last until the next morning), we were, let's say, not in a great state of mind by the time we had everything packed up, dropped Charlie off for a weekend with the Holidays, driven the whopping 20 minutes to get there, then spent another hour unloading and storing everything. But don't worry, friends, it got better from there. Mostly.

First, a digression. We are not campers. The last time I went camping, I think, was in college. I suspect it's much the same answer for Mike, or maybe later but it involved a Phish concert. Anyway. So that was part of the reason we were so unprepared. Not that we were camping, exactly, because we rented a cabin, but we still needed all the same stuff that you would need for a camping weekend (minus the tents). The Holidays, however, are much more outdoorsy types than we are, so while we were dropping off the dog, Mark tried to give us all sorts of stuff. (Have you met Mark? Then you're not surprised at this.) We ended up taking some long hot dog/marshmallow roasting sticks.

Second, another digression. When I was young, my grandparents would rent a couple of cabins at Potato Creek during the summer for a week or two, and whoever among their many children and not-so-many (at that point, anyway; now we are legion) grandchildren was available would spend a few days or longer riding bikes, going for walks to the general store to get Slush Puppies, and most of all, heading down to the beach to swim in Worster Lake. It was close enough that people could come out after work if they wanted, but far enough that it felt like a "real" vacation. I have fond memories of it all, though now that I'm looking at it from the (very) far end of 30, I realize anew what an amazing woman my Gram was to be able to put that all together, and I wanted to share some of that magic with the boys.

And now that we've reached the end of our digressions, I can tell you about the weekend. Because of our poor planning, by the time we got there and got unloaded, the general store was closed for the night, and with it, our hope of buying any wood with which to cook marshmallows. On the plus side, there was a central area with a playground, so the boys were pretty well occupied while we unpacked everything. Even better, there was a communal fire pit area ... and some other people had already built a fire! So we shamelessly angled our way in, made introductions, and wrangled an invitation to join them. We used our Holiday-provided sticks and roasted our marshmallows, and put together s'mores (because a certain Aunt Bethany told the boys that they HAD to have s'mores), only to have the boys discover that they didn't really like s'mores, and that eating one resulted in such a sticky mess that they then picked up all the dirt in Indiana, or so it seemed. Also that fires are smoky, and that's really not very fun. But hey, at least we tried.

It was well past dark when we finally got the boys settled down for the night, which involved enduring a full HOUR of Henry throwing the biggest screaming fit over something inconsequential (sleeping arrangements, or who got more cookies, or who played video games longer, or something like that). We were sure the neighbors would call the park rangers on us, but they didn't, and eventually everyone slept. 

Saturday was better. We got up early and set out for a hike that took us around part of the lake. It was cool but not cold, not too buggy, and there weren't many other people out and about. Perfect. We did some bird watching and identified some flowers, climbed some dirt hills, that sort of thing. When we got back, we decided to check out the nature center and were just in time for a ranger presentation, during which the boys each got to feed an animal (snakes and turtles). When it was Henry's turn, he grabbed the cricket (the food), but the cricket got away from him, so he immediately stomped on it, upsetting all the kids gathered around (not to mention the ranger!) and abruptly ending his turn, which of course resulted in another fit.

Next, we headed to another part of the lake to go paddle boating. Again, we really had no idea what we were doing, and it was a little scary with all five of us in one boat, but we made our way around some of the lake, then came back to the pier. Henry and I got out of the boat, and gave Liam and Max a turn to pedal with Mike, which they got a big kick out of.

We ended up driving to South Bend to get some lunch and supplies for dinner and the next day's breakfast, and once we got back we decided it was time for a bike ride. Mike and Liam were feeling ambitious, so they went on the mountain bike course (Liam's first true mountain biking experience; he loved it!) while Max, Henry, and I took a more leisurely ride along the regular biking trails.

You would think that with all this activity, we would have no problem getting them to go to sleep that night. But you would be wrong, all wrong. Henry again graced us with a full hour of high-volume screaming (I don't know, somebody stole his birthday or something), and then the other two, who were tired and cranky, got in on the act and tripled the misery, and by that time, we decided enough was enough. So instead of enjoying another hike or bike ride or visit to the lake Sunday morning, we decided to just pack it up and come back home. So there you have it: a lot of work for one pretty good day. Let's hope the next time goes better ... if we ever get the nerve to try it again.