One Day of Summer
The Covid has done its best to force us to skip past summer. No swimming, no amusement parks, no winery concerts, no summer camp for the kids, no summer sports (wrestling, tennis), no drive-in movies, no summer reading club…
Okay, so there is still a summer reading club, but without the promise of tangible prizes and trips to the library, I can’t get the kids interested. So, it doesn’t count!
However, the good news is, we have remained healthy. We are all working, those of us who are old enough to work. We have a new student driver. Time marches on!
And today, before school starts inexplicably too soon (again), NEXT WEEK, we stole a day of summer. We got together as a family, all six of us, and had an outing. I chose Schooner Valley Stables in Nashville, IN as the destination. We had a good experience with them a few years ago and we were looking forward to another. I figured it was a low risk environment, since you don’t come into contact with many people, and those you do are wearing masks. The kids were excited to go, so off we went!
After coaxing and prodding all my late risers out the door, we hit the road. The conversation was disgustingly peppered with comments about flatulence and belching (which I refer to as “face farting,” and for once the kids saw the logic in that). We banned the topic, so naturally it kept coming back up. We stopped for snacks in Columbus, Indiana, and then headed west toward Nashville.
When we reached Gnaw Bone, we passed a sign saying “Story, 10 miles” and pointing south, so I impulsively took it, explaining that we would grab lunch in Story and check it out, since we’d never been there. I told the kids it had a General Store, and they were sold! A few minutes later, we encountered construction traffic.
The kids grew more and more restless as we waited for our turn to drive down the one way country back road, which adjoins Brown County State Park. It is a rural back road, the kind that winds through the hills and the trees and often disappears into gravel. The longer we sat, the more one of the boys complained that he had to go to the restroom. Inexplicably, the conversation turned once again to potty talk, before making a wild right angle into the realm of pot. The same boy who needed to go to the restroom informed us that he thought he saw a lot of marijuana plants ringing a corn field that we’d passed. As he put it, “weed.” He wanted to know how it grew out in a field like that, if it was “supposed” to grow inside under lights. Tim explained that it grows everywhere, which is why it is called a “weed,” and that people who use grow lights are hiding illegal drugs in their basements and trying to not get caught. SO. That ate up a few minutes of the traffic stop. Next piped up the baby of the group, asking if this subject was the same as “the weed for smoking,” followed quickly by my instant regret in letting the conversation go on in the first place.
Now, I know marijuana is legal in much of the country, but it isn’t here, and the last thing I need is her telling her classmates, “What did I do this summer? Oh, I went horseback riding and learned about the weed for smoking.”
On the other hand, I believe in educating my kids. If they want to know what drugs are, I will explain to them what I know, which also goes back to the RISKs of such things. And, truthfully, I don’t know a ton about drugs, per se, but…now the baby knows about as much as I do, so…sigh.
The traffic was stopped for about 20 minutes, which was just about untenable for the kids. I told them about the many times I sat still on the highway trying to get off on an exit to see a concert. I don’t know if concerts even work like that now! It was tough for them to imagine sitting 3 hours in a hot car with no air conditioning. As we waited, the radio played John Mellencamp’s “Cherry Bomb,” because of course it did.
When the road reopened, it was a scenic drive to Story, Indiana, which was sadly closed. THEY HAD A GENERAL STORE! And a restaurant. And wine. *sad face*. We contented ourselves with taking photos in the garden, and headed back to town for food.
On the way, Tim suggested we avoid the construction and take Horseman’s Camp Road, which just happens to be the road that runs right through Brown County State Park. The hospitable lady at the gate let us cut through, which was quite nice, although I would have been fine paying admission. She told us to look for the signs that said “North Gate,” so every time we passed a sign, multiple people would say “This way,” or “North gate,” or whatever…and at the last minute, Sean would yell, “NORTH GATE!” It instantly became a meme, along with face farting.
ONE DOES NOT SIMPLY DRIVE INTO NORTH GATE!
It sounds very silly, because it was. On our way through the park, the kids expressed a desire to come back and see it for real, so I said maybe we could, post-covid. Come up and get a cabin for a week or something. We passed several scenic vistas that were just breathtaking, so naturally the kids were like, “Eh,” though they did at least turn their heads each time and look.
Next up, we sampled the fine dining Nashville is known for…McDonald’s!
Honestly, I wish we could have stopped at the Birds’s Nest Cafe, my favorite, or any of the other local cafes, but we really only had time by that point for a quick snack at the Golden Arches. After gobbling down our sustenance, we were off to Schooner Valley!
Schooner Valley was tremendous fun. The staff and volunteers really make you feel at home and the horses are just well-loved and beautiful. They’re not tired old trail horses…although by 3 pm in the hot weather, they sort of were…they still required a little guidance, especially my horse, Karma. She was a bossy lady, but she did as asked, eventually! The kids all had a great time, not just riding through gorgeous Yellowwood Forest, but also in bossing each other around about the proper form for riding. They weren’t shy about bossing me, either. You’d never know I’ve been riding for years.
We finished out our ride in a gentle rain shower that turned into a downpour as we dismounted. The rain felt cool and refreshing, as both our humans and our horses were soaked in sweat. We rode for over and hour, and my old bones and weak muscles were screaming on the way to the car. I admit, I limped a little. I’m a lot heavier right now than I want to be! All the kids and Tim were stiff, I think, except for the two youngest, who are by far the most fit. What amazing exercise that was!
We tried to roll into Nashville for a celebratory ice cream for all the kids, but it was impossible. Chocolate Moose was closed due to Covid-19 (waiting for test results, the sign on the window
said!) The other ice cream parlor in town was not safe for us re: peanut/tree nut allergies…so back to McDonald’s! It’s ironic…there is nothing like going to a fun, quirky, tourist-oriented place and just end up eating McDonald’s. So wrong, but for the kids, it was so right.
It rained while the sun shined, something that I’ve usually only seen here at the Treehouse. “Where’s the rainbow?” Sean asked.
We did a little rubbernecking, checking out the area when we saw a for sale sign on a country road. Brown County gets very rural, very fast. More so than Floyd County where we live. I shouldn’t be surprised. I have spent a lot of time in rural Indiana–REAL Indiana, not this semi-suburban rural adjacent kind of place that we adoringly hail from. Where we live, we are metro Louisville, really. REAL Indiana is country AF. It’s corn and potential pot plants and pulling over on a gravel road to ask a man in denim overalls if we’re headed the right direction, knowing he’s going to help. REAL Indiana is a paved road turning suddenly into a gravel road. A trailer next to a log cabin. An artist colony that hides away some of the best scenic views in the country, and a sweet State Park employee who lets you cut through just because the kids are hungry and she can tell you’re not lying to get free admission.
We talked all the way home, through a downpour that lasted about an hour. I almost took the back way through Seymour to avoid the rain, but it let up not long after we passed Muscatatuck. Tim and Sam were both falling asleep. The kids thanked us for the trip…I suggested maybe we could go back this fall. Two of them said yes and two said they needed to think about it. Tim reminded me about Covid. I agreed to put it off for a bit.
The kids reminisced about Piomingo, looking forward to next summer so much. Sean suggested that instead of a trip this fall, we build our own slide at home like the one at Piomingo. He suggested we dig a tunnel and have the slide go underground, before emptying us out into the creek at the back of our property. We shall see.
To the east of the highway emerged an enormous rainbow. Seamus took a photo.
We won’t get to swim this summer. We could. We could make our way to Buffalo Trace or some other semi-local beach, but I can’t take the risk. We’re all healthy right now. I can’t risk some rando swimming up to the kids and ruining that, and I definitely do NOT want to be that mom standing at the beach screaming “SOCIAL DISTANCING! SOCIAL DISTANCING!”
So we had one day of summer. Farts and belches were the topic du jour, only intensified by the horses pooping on the trail. It wasn’t the kind of conversation I would have chosen, but it was EXACTLY the kind of day. Adventurous, spontaneous, full of laughter and fun and a bit of sweat and excitement.
We arrived home smelling of horses and happiness.
