It may just be due to the sweet smell of summer heat in the air, but I’ve been finding myself down at Bennett Spring quite a lot lately. My two favorite destinations as a kid were Bass Pro Shops and Bennett Spring.
Don’t even get me started on Johnny Morris… that man is a hero. But that’s a column for anther week.
Bennett Spring is one of the most beautiful paces in the state, in my opinion. Of course, I’ve always been partial to this part of the Ozarks because these are the hills and rivers I grew up running and swimming. My grandpa Dame started bringing me down to Bennett Spring when I was just a tiny tot, maybe three or four years old.
Every time we drove through the park, whether it be to picnic next to the playgrounds, feed the fish, or just enjoy the scenic views, we’d have to stop at Larry’s Fly Shop for an ice cream cone.
It’s funny how those small habits never really leave you.
In the last three trips I’ve taken to the park, it’s like I’m magnetically drawn to Larry’s for a scoop of cherry vanilla Blue Bell.
It’s always been the same flavor for me. Actually, I love it so much there were several times my grandpa bought five gallon tubs just to keep at his house.
As good as the fine folks at Larry’s are, nobody beats my grandpa Dame. The man has nine grandchildren though, what do you expect? He’s had lots of practice.
The last time I stopped for a cone, I took my little sister so I could share the stories of when I was younger and try to imprint another tiny memory of our grandpa in her mind. Of course, she loved it and we agreed we’d stop for a cone each time we’re at the park together moving forward.
I think there are tiny memories like that scattered about the park for everyone. I know there’ll never be a better place for a kids birthday party than the pool at Sand Spring Resort.
My little brother had a few parties there growing up and I can flip back to those pages of my memory with clear recollection. I can smell the little smokies simmering in the crock pot while the chlorine clings to our skin as we air-dry in the arcade room. I can remember the laughs, the arguments (kids, am I right?), the gifts, the family and the friends that shared in those moments with us.
I think that’s what places like Bennett Spring are all about. The balance between absolute tranquility and chaos is perfectly adjusted at Bennett Spring.
You could go to one area of the park and see 20 kids going at it with water guns in the yard and then just downstream you’ll find absolute silence aside from the trickle of the stream or the occasional flop of a trout.
There was one time my grandpa was driving me through the park on one of our Sunday evening drives and I was begging him to stop so I could feed the fish.
It had started raining on our drive from Phillipsburg and was still spitting out sprinkles by the time we arrived.
My grandpa looked me square in the eyes and said, “Can’t feed ‘em today, they won’t come out while it’s raining.”
It took me YEARS to realize he swindled me that day. But I would’t have it any other way.
