Branson Day Five

World record class polar bear
bagged by a Mrs Somebody.

We checked out of our hotel and turned east toward home soon after 8:00.  Our first stop was the Bass Pro Shops in Springfield, Missouri.  They “welcome fishermen and other liars” and we spent several hours feeling welcome indeed. 

We had tickets to tour the Wonders of Wildlife museum in the store’s upper level and WOW! Animals from all over the world display some of the most creative taxidermy skills ever seen anywhere.  Its founder, Johnny Morris refuses to tell how much it cost but suffice it to say, it wasn’t cheap.  The scenic displays are authentic to the animals’ native habitat, animals ranging in size from groundhogs to elephants.  There’s an aquarium with live specimens as well but we were limited on time and were not able to tour there.

Bass Pro not only sells every conceivable wish-list item for hunters and fishermen, it has an excellent smorgasbord restaurant with delicious cuisine served in an atmosphere appealing to both five star palates and nature loving adventurers.  A massive wood bar stretched across one side of the spacious expanse of dining room,  inviting tables laid out with silverware wrapped in linen napkins.  The glass wall behind the bar had fish swimming in the clear water, blue lights filling the space with a marina ambiance.  It was beautiful and a memorable dining experience.

We barely made it back to the bus on time, those of that ate there. It was hard to leave. A bus full of people with full bellies are inclined to nap. Anna Mae seized the opportunity and painted Cal and Paul’s nails pink.  Neither one of them even stirred.  Paul said when he woke up, still slightly disoriented; he was freaked out because he thought it was someone else’s hand.  They both left the polish in place, receiving all the ribbing with good humor.

Several hours later we stopped at an endangered wolf center close to St. Louis in Eureka, Missouri.  We saw grey wolves, red wolves, foxes, and even some African painted dogs.  Our guide told us there are more people on our bus than there are red wolves living in the wild.  Because the goal is to repopulate the dwindling populations, the staff at the center does not interact with the wolves, trying to keep them as untamed as possible.  The farmers are getting the blame for the dwindling population but it’s a tricky challenge to achieve a fair balance between man and beast. Wolves harm livestock, farmers harm wolves.  Extinction is tragic, people need to eat.  Research continues to work toward a beneficial outcome for all.

Several of us were morbidly fascinated with a crew of men trying to cut down a very large tree at the preserve.  The challenge was to have things fall the right way (isn’t this usually the challenge when cutting down a tree?!) so they were progressing very slowly.  I’m not sure these guys were very proficient at what they were doing.  One of them was using a chainsaw too small for the size of the tree trunk.  He was high up on a lift hacking and sawing and resting while his comrades on the ground shouted advice.  When we left they had secured ropes to the section he was cutting as it leaned ominously his direction.  The rope was wrapped behind a tree down below and off to the side.  What was even more concerning was that one of the men down below had wrapped a section of rope around himself, ready to pull as needed. In my mind’s eye I saw a puny little human catapulting into the horizon as that huge chunk of tree trunk hurtled toward earth.  Or scenes far worse.  I was glad and only slightly regretful when our tour guide told us it was time to move on.

We stopped near St Louis in Fenton for a fast food supper and to meet Fanny, a passenger we had dropped on our way to Branson.  She had stopped to visit her daughter and was catching a ride back with us.  After we had all stuffed ourselves full of questionable McDonalds fare, Dave got on the bus with boxes of warm Krispy Kreme donuts and most of us discovered we could cram in a bit more.

We arrived at our hotel around 8:30 PM.  Paul was leaving with the Illinois crowd for the weekend; they live fifteen minutes from the hotel.  He is meeting up with John Schmid to help with a show they are a part of this weekend.  Before they all departed we spent an hour or two in the hotel breakfast room for some heated card games to finish off our time together.  Paul and I probably won’t see them again until Florida this winter.  I’m counting the days already.