Stonewall

After our tubing adventure on the New River, we didn't really have any specific plans for where we'd go on our journey back to Williamstown or where we'd stay along the way. We decided to head toward Pittsburgh where another friend of mine had invited us to visit. We searched for campgrounds in northern West Virginia and found a gem. Stonewall Jackson State Park is located on picturesque lake in Weston, WV, about an hour south of Morgantown. The cool thing we discovered about this park is that the state turned over management of the park to the Stonewall Resort, located just up the road, and all of the amenities of the resort were available to campers.

The Arnold Palmer-designed golf course at Stonewall Resort

Just before we arrived at the campground, Rachelle tweaked her back and had to lie down for the rest of the drive. Quick administration of advil and mucle relaxant mostly nipped this in the bud, but Rachelle would be out of commission for a few hours. Backing in to our campsite without Rachelle as a spotter was an interesting experience. I employed Amaya, in her bright orange shirt, as a pylon to mark the back corner of our parking spot and eventually jockeyed our rig into position. I'm sure we got a few snickers from the nearby campers because it took me a few tries and it wasn't pretty. I can only imagine how jarring that parking job must have seemed from Rachelle's prone position in the back of the RV.

Keiko and Amaya were swimming in the lake within 10 minutes of parking. The water was murky, but that didn't seem to deter them (and I wasn't about to yell "snake!'). The bottom of the lake was lined with clay having an interesting texture—almost like a hard rubber. We showered up quickly and Rachelle made reservations for us to eat dinner at the resort. A shuttle bus drove right up to our campsite and delivered us to the resort. We had an amazing gourmet buffet and joked that it was the best campground food we'd ever had! Our good fortune didn't end there; children 8 and under dined for free with a paying adult and Keiko and Amaya wouldn't turn 9 until one week later! A sweet bargain for us.

We were awakened the next morning to an intense thunderstorm. The volume of the rain pelting the roof of the RV was impressive, as were the nearby lightning strikes. We had to check out of our campsite by 11:30, but we were told that we could move our RV into the parking lot at the lodge and use the swimming pool. I swam with the girls for a few hours while Rachelle got a massage at the spa to help adjust her back. The girls begged me to do some of the "pool dancing" games that I used to play with them when they were four or five year's old and we lived in Hawaii. Back then, though, they only weighed about 30–40 pounds and I could really throw them around. Despite their 9-year old frames and my messed up knee, I still had a few "superman" moves and "grand finales" left for in me.  The girls really didn't want to leave the pool, but we needed to head off to Pittsburgh. After they changed out of their swimsuits,  Keiko pulled Amaya's hair back into a braid the way she often wears it, herself. I just know that these two are going to mess with their 4th grade teachers next year. Can you tell them apart?

Freaky Friday