Heroes are hard to find:
My search for Tarzan
Old Guy and Still-Young Bride are campers. When we’re not attending family events or completing yard work or doing anything else that can’t wait, we’re leaving
This year, about the time the trail of cars, SUVs, and RVs were traveling west on County D from Interstate 39 heading towards Rome, we were rolling east opposite those vehicles, bound for a mom-and-pop-operated campground just east of Minocqua.
You see, Still-Young Bride has five brothers and a mom who love to camp, too. That’s why we all gather (mom, brothers, sisters-in-law, nieces, nephews, and friends of family) to huddle together out of the usual rain, on top of a hill overlooking Lake Tomahawk, to commune with nature and roast a tremendous variety of meat over open flames…not to mention enjoying dessert bars galore, chips, beans, salads, sodas, beer—you get the picture. It’s a real feast-o-rama, to which everyone contributes in their own way!
The highlight of the trip for Old Guy is always a bicycle trip into Minocqua along and through a pathway that traverses various stands of trees and vegetation, interrupted only by a worn wooden bridge that crosses another one of the thousand lakes teeming with fisher-people. This year I took that trip alone (the heat being what it was last weekend) and ended up at my usual destination: a 2nd floor antique gallery in downtown Minocqua, overflowing with thousands of antique treasures. My goal? To find my next Tarzan original hardcover amongst the stacks of books that appeared around every corner.
For the half-dozen or so years we’ve been making this trip, I’ve never failed to find an original Tarzan edition from the early 1900’s—each one priced in the $30-$50 range. And as my hobby is collecting all things Tarzan, the search is half the fun. Look this way, and there’s Franklin Roosevelt on the cover of a 1930’s LIFE magazine. Turn that way and there’s a Vanilla Fudge record album in mint condition—two flavors for the price of one! And over in another corner is trout-fishing gear next to a mink coat—both older than dirt!
Unfortunately, this year, the search for Tarzan ended at the Mutara Escarpment. (In Tarzan-speak: I failed to scale the cliffs of discovery.) I had to settle for a 50-year-old biography of Jack Paar—the man whose last name is my last name spelled backwards! Though it’s not a Tarzan original, it’ll do.
So, book tucked into my bike bag, I made the return trip to the campground, retracing my original route, but for one detour. I stopped at Hoggie Doggies for a hot fudge and strawberry shake, which I quite enjoyed as I sat reading the first chapter of my new-found tome.
It’s sure funny how the simple things always bring the most pleasure. Discovering that early on in life is a priceless lesson. Sure wish I had!