Boats, Wigwams & the Relax Inn
My Year of Sleeping Around
I can’t remember the last time I slept through the night, but I do remember the places I didn’t sleep this year.
My bed-hopping is the result of pent-up, post-pandemic rambling: long weekends out of town, invitations from friends and a family health scare. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it’s a good way to assess a year.
If you were mostly in your own bed, that’s a good year. If you found yourself sleeping somewhere outside of your comfort zone, or just in odd places, then you’ve got a story.
Comfortable-ish
Consider my experience at Wigwam Village II near Mammoth Cave, Kentucky, where my husband and I slept in a stucco wigwam. The kitschy attraction has drawn travelers since 1937 to its 15-wigwam encampment along what was once a main route to Florida. I liked our wigwam’s vintage (old) furniture and quaint (tiny) bathroom; my husband wasn’t as enthusiastic, but to be fair, he had to duck to get through the door.
Then there was the Relax Inn in Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania. I wanted a cheap place to stay on our way to Rhode Island, and the Relax Inn hit my price point. I knew I had made a good choice when I saw the two-story candle in front. It looked like a friendly place; kids skateboarded in the parking lot and people sat on lawn chairs next to their cars.
The rooms were unexpectedly spacious.“You could live in this room,” I told my husband, who’s more of a Holiday Inn Express-type. “That’s because people are living in these rooms,” he said. He was right; we were the only people who pulled out the next morning. The rest were traveling workers with families. I’d stay there again.
I almost forgot the haunted hardware store and morgue, although I did not see an actual ghost. The Morguen Toole Company in Meyersdale, Pennsylvania, built in the 1800s, is now a rambling hotel catering to cyclists on The Great Allegheny Passage trail. My friends and I stayed there for a trail ride. I slept like the dead.
Just the other weekend, we spent two nights on a boat in the Sandusky marina. As boats go, it’s a big one. Better yet, friends own it. I’d never slept on a boat before and I was surprised at how comfortable it was. It reminded me of camping, minus the dirt.
Our friends plan to buy a bigger boat to do The Loop, a year-round trek from the Great Lakes, down the Mississippi River, through the Gulf of Mexico, up the Intracoastal Waterway, and through the St. Lawrence Seaway on home. Couples apparently do that and remain married.
And then there’s my recent night at my dad’s house, where I stayed as a precaution after he had a stroke and spent a few days in the hospital. I slept fitfully with the bedroom door open, listening for I’m not sure what. It was a bittersweet role reversal, considering the nights Dad probably did the same for me and my siblings as teens. I felt at home.
Our theme for this issue is Seasons: What’s Yours? I’m in a Sleeping Around season, but we highlight others for you, like the couple who spends part of the year in an RV, a politician-turned-actor and the guy who wants us to like the Pro Football Hall of Fame as much as he does.
Wherever you make your bed tonight, I hope it’s comfortable. And if it’s not, I hope it’s an adventure.
Sleep tight,
Marie
