In Branson, Missouri there's a theme park called Silver Dollar City. Its logo is of a setting sun behind an axe driven into a log. Silver Dollar City stands apart from every other theme park in the world. The whole city is built with the theme of the Ozarks, particularly of the pioneer days. Everything about this city exudes charm and cheerful reminiscence of days long gone.
Silver Dollar City is one of my favorite places in all the world. Nowhere else have I experienced Nature and Society so in harmony. It is a treat to be there, whatever time of year you choose to come.
Today I'm going to take you there.
The experience begins long before you ever get close to Branson. It begins the moment you open your eyes in the dark hours of the early morning. The park opens in the mid to late morning, so it's best to get an early start. Maybe pack a lunch for the road. Oh, and if you're going with me, you'll want to bring along a pillow and a blanket. Just trust me on this. I'll explain later.
The drive starts off as an interstate cruise. But at some point, you turn onto a different highway, and begin a pretty steady climb through Rural USA; you pass through small towns where time doesn't seem to flow at quite the usual rate. Old churches, old schools, flea markets and quaint houses nestled seamlessly into the hills and dells of Smalltown, USA.
In between and past the towns, the road grows slim and meandering. You are entering the Ozark country, and there's a feeling in the air of leaving your old life behind. The road threads its way through rolling hills and pastures with horses and cows sedately eating their breakfast in the cool, still morning. By this time the sun is rising, and you can see mist hovering in the lower valleys and above the rivers and creeks. In the dewy freshness of the morning, Time seems to be losing his merciless, tyrannical grip upon your soul. Sometimes I even get the feeling that I am traveling through time. Into the past? The future? Who can say? Somewhere better, that's all I know. Somewhere beautiful and strange; somewhere I belong. That drive, seen in the gold of a sunrise and the silver of the mist, is a small eternity that lives in the soul long after the destination has been reached.
After a while, the scenery becomes wilder. Rock formations begin to appear on either side of the road. The hills become rock cliffs, perpendicular and craggy. Tiny waterfalls come bounding out of hidden channels, spilling themselves in their abandon to reach the moss and climbing greenery on the rock.
Finally, Branson itself draws near. Branson, that quirky land-locked cluster of shows, oddities and entertainments. And Silver Dollar City, the best of them all.
Once you park, you must wait for a trolley (or begin a very long walk uphill) to take you to the entrance. It's the first ride of the day, and a pleasant one. The breeze blowing your hair, the chatter of cheerful families, and the instructions blared at you through old speakers by a Santa-Claus type old man in the very back.
You are ushered to the entrance with an "All Ashore," command, and there you are, walking toward an unassuming door in a stone wall. They aren't kidding when the signs say, "You have a great past ahead of you!"
I said that Nature and Society live in harmony in Silver Dollar City, and that's because unlike most amusement parks, there are trees galore. Trees and flower beds with low stone walls. The paths are of asphalt, thus clear and easy to traverse, but on every border there are thick woods and usually shrubbery and climbing plants allowed to grow alongside them. In short, they have not conquered or subdued Nature, but rather have created a lovely lagoon where Nature and Society may coexist in close proximity. There are many places to sit down everywhere you look. In the summertime the trees provide shade. In the wintertime, they break the icy wind. Sometimes you can smell the woods, especially in the Autumn.
There are buildings everywhere, but they are built in old styles and with purposefully faded colors. All employees are dressed in period costumes of the 1800s, and all of them are friendly and helpful.
As you wander the streets of Silver Dollar City, you will see shops of every kind in every direction. You will smell home-cooking from the restaurants! Skillet meals, potato twists, and fried chicken as well as the traditional pizza, nachos, funnel cakes, loaded fries, and grilled sandwiches. One of my favorites is a bowl of Dippin' Dots ice cream. There are stands everywhere serving drinks. Frozen lemonade in the summer, and hot chocolate and wassail during the Christmas season.
You can see shows, too. They have performers of all sorts at Silver Dollar City, ranging from full-scale theater productions, to musicians performing on the streets. You can also stop to watch a blacksmith, a leather worker, a potter, an artist, or even a glass-blower in an indoor smithy! All of this punctuated by the wailing whistle of the Silver Dollar City train as it chugs by.
My parents took us to Silver Dollar City many times while we were growing up. The whole place is so steeped in memories that I find it difficult to describe the place in a coherent, linear way.
We used to go in the summer, and we would get drenched on the American Plunge or the Lost River of the Ozarks ride (which sadly they have demolished this year; hopefully they'll build another water ride on its site.) We'd walk around for the next few hours dripping until the sun and wind would dry us off. It was part of the experience, and hey, at least you were cool for quite a while!
Some rides, like "Fire in the Hole," and "Thunderation," have been around for decades. They're part of the old Silver Dollar City, and I find that even though I enjoy other rides more, I like their "tried and true," charm.
All of the roller coasters at Silver Dollar City have a theme to them. The Great American Plunge is the theme of those crazies (they do exist, sadly!) who bundle themselves into barrels and let themselves float downstream and over waterfalls. The posters say things amounting to, "Are you daredevil enough to brave the Great American Plunge?"
"Fire in the Hole," is an indoor roller coaster with a fireman's theme; each room shows a scene from old towns in the Ozarks, where notorious gangs like the Baldknobbers used to set fire to buildings, steal goods and livestock from the citizens, and the brave firemen who would rescue people from the burning buildings and homes.
My family is, without doubt, the most annoying family to ride with for "Fire In the Hole." It's a tradition that my dad started. When I and my sisters were younger, we were terrified of the dark and the hooded figures of the Baldknobbers. My dad had the brilliant idea of sitting next to us on the train and saying things like, "It's daaaaaaaark..!" in a spooky voice. Or yelling out obvious facts like, "The bridge is on fire!!" "Oh, nooo, it's the BAAALLDDKNOBBERSS!" or, "WATCH OUT, it's the MOOON!!"
We admittedly hated it for a long time, but somewhere along the way it turned into reacting to everything with screams or yelling advice to the stationary characters, clapping along to the cheerful bluegrass music playing for one stretch in the dark, and *pretending* to be scared. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism we used when we tried to coax the younger girls to ride it with us until we weren't scared anymore. And of course, for the last drop we all yell, "FIIRE IIIN THE HOOOOLE!"
The other riders can't see who we are. I can practically smell their bewilderment and embarrassment. We revel in it. Hey-oh! No regrets. It's a beloved family tradition.
I never have figured out what exactly the theme is for the newer, but no less beloved ride, "Wildfire." I can't tell if it's supposed to be a lab for controlling the weather or plans for a flying machine or some strange combination of the two. Then there's the "Tom and Huck River Adventure," (wonder who that's named after!) where you sit in a boat and shoot water cannons at riders on other boats. I've only ridden that one once, sadly. Oh, and there's the Giant Barn Swing, one of my personal favorites. I especially love to ride it in the dark at Christmastime. When you're shot into the air with your toes dangling over your head, you can look *up* and see Silver Dollar City all lit up below you in the thousands of Christmas Lights. That is not an experience to be missed.
There's the Powderkeg roller coaster, which I frankly do not care for all that much. I can do it, you know. I just don't like the crazy acceleration at the beginning.
There's the new "Time Traveler" ride, which is really neat. It's a ride that spins, but it's a *controlled* spin, not like the crazy stuff you see at Six Flags parks. The theme for that ride is, obviously, an inventor (and his daughter) who invite you to join them in a "time-traveling experiment." It's actually a very fun ride, and because it spins, it's really a different experience each time you ride. The weightlessness you feel in the soar and rush make it a truly unique experience.
But my favorite is "Outlaw Run." It's a huge wooden coaster, and the theme is of a stagecoach attempting to outrun the outlaws wanting to hold it up. No spoilers for this one except for what the female voice tells you each time you buckle up. "It's gonna be a wild ride!"
I do love the Wild West music they play as you wait in line, and the Aaron Copeland-esque fanfare they send you off with, along with the sound of a whip cracking, and horses neighing. "That was a little too close for comfort," you hear the old man's voice say as the ride slows to a stop. "But here at Silver Dollar City, the good guys always win."
Autumn is probably my favorite time to be in Silver Dollar City. There's the Harvest festival, the pumpkins everywhere, the hot cider and cocoa. Sometimes the water rides are still open in September. Also, that's when most people are back in school, so it isn't as crowded, and you have shorter wait time for everything.
And then there's Christmas. The shows are heartwarming and touch on the true reason for the season. During most of the year, they play Bluegrass music throughout the park, but at Christmas, they play a lot of Mannheim Steamroller Christmas albums, classics like the Carpenters and Michael Buble, and sometimes even symphonic arrangements of the familiar carols. It infuses the atmosphere with rich warmth and old magic. There's a giant Christmas tree that gives a light show, beginning when the sun goes down, and playing different songs at fifteen minute intervals. At Christmas, there are a lot of attractions that sound more exciting, but the light show is actually the most exciting.
Silver Dollar City is, as I said, steeped in memories of my family and friends. I've been there in the euphoria of child-like glee and the glow of its innocence. I've experienced it in loneliness, even when, (or perhaps especially) when in a crowd. I've felt myself lost there--emotionally set adrift in a sea of existential angst. I've experienced it in heartbreak, grief, and tears. And there have been times when I've come back in triumph, free at last from burdens I had long carried. Every time I visit, no matter where I am in my life, some of my childhood comes back to me. When I am walking the streets of Silver Dollar City I am ageless and capable of anything.
Silver Dollar City exudes joy and wonder. Freedom and order, Nature and Society, new beginnings and old memories side by side. Families and Friends, Neighbors in the faces of the crowds. Nostalgia and whispers of promises yet to be fulfilled. Youth and Age, Laughter and Solemnity together in a wondrous dance. Piercing Joy, profound sadness, and the deep certainty underneath it that one day all will be well.
I am always reluctant to leave, and I get the sense that the City feels sad to see me go. The blow is softened by the, not one, but two lovely gift shops you must walk through. I love the last-minute shopping on my way out. The trolley ride back to your car is peaceful. At least I have always found it so.
Once you're out of Branson, there's one more section to the trip. One that most people don't think too much about. The road back. That drive is incredible in the light of the rising sun, but I like it under the moon just as well.
I love to drive. While most people are zonked out and resting, I'm wide awake, navigating the winding roads in the velvety darkness of the country night. Somehow the way back is always facing the moon. She hovers in the sky just over the road ahead. She's an old friend of mine. We hold long conversations without saying a word. I'm thankful that most people sleep on the way home, because it gives me time to process the day, to store away memories, and to sort of organize it in my mind. I have time to think over what I liked, what I disliked, what I needed more of, what I can do better next time...and of course reliving the best moments. My mind can wander in that dreamy state of lunacy that somehow always gives me clarity.
I love to make playlists for myself, and I have a few for road trips. I can put them on and sing softly, if I like. I'm integrating yet more memories into the songs. Building them into my consciousness, mind, and personality. Into my past, present, and future.
My mother loves to drive, too. She liked driving back from Branson when our family would go for the day. I suppose I get it from her. I learned the hard way as a kid that my Mother needs cool air circulating in the car to stay awake when she drives late at night. One or two miserable experiences where I couldn't keep warm and couldn't sleep at the tail end of a long tiring day taught me to always bring socks, a jacket, a pillow, a blanket, etc./all of the above for the road back! So I crank up the air to stay alert. I layer up and brace myself against the cold. I think of it as a challenge to up my driving skills.
When I reach the bridge over the last river, I can see the radio towers far away on my right, their little red lights twinkling and dancing and waving across to me to welcome me. That's when I know I'm almost home. It makes me think of one of Tolkien's poems:
"Then world behind and home ahead,
We'll wander back to home and bed.
Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,
Away shall fade! Away shall fade!
Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,
And then to bed! And then to bed!"
See you soon, Silver Dollar City.
~Cadenza
Silver Dollar City is one of my favorite places in all the world. Nowhere else have I experienced Nature and Society so in harmony. It is a treat to be there, whatever time of year you choose to come.
Today I'm going to take you there.
The experience begins long before you ever get close to Branson. It begins the moment you open your eyes in the dark hours of the early morning. The park opens in the mid to late morning, so it's best to get an early start. Maybe pack a lunch for the road. Oh, and if you're going with me, you'll want to bring along a pillow and a blanket. Just trust me on this. I'll explain later.
The drive starts off as an interstate cruise. But at some point, you turn onto a different highway, and begin a pretty steady climb through Rural USA; you pass through small towns where time doesn't seem to flow at quite the usual rate. Old churches, old schools, flea markets and quaint houses nestled seamlessly into the hills and dells of Smalltown, USA.
In between and past the towns, the road grows slim and meandering. You are entering the Ozark country, and there's a feeling in the air of leaving your old life behind. The road threads its way through rolling hills and pastures with horses and cows sedately eating their breakfast in the cool, still morning. By this time the sun is rising, and you can see mist hovering in the lower valleys and above the rivers and creeks. In the dewy freshness of the morning, Time seems to be losing his merciless, tyrannical grip upon your soul. Sometimes I even get the feeling that I am traveling through time. Into the past? The future? Who can say? Somewhere better, that's all I know. Somewhere beautiful and strange; somewhere I belong. That drive, seen in the gold of a sunrise and the silver of the mist, is a small eternity that lives in the soul long after the destination has been reached.
After a while, the scenery becomes wilder. Rock formations begin to appear on either side of the road. The hills become rock cliffs, perpendicular and craggy. Tiny waterfalls come bounding out of hidden channels, spilling themselves in their abandon to reach the moss and climbing greenery on the rock.
Finally, Branson itself draws near. Branson, that quirky land-locked cluster of shows, oddities and entertainments. And Silver Dollar City, the best of them all.
Once you park, you must wait for a trolley (or begin a very long walk uphill) to take you to the entrance. It's the first ride of the day, and a pleasant one. The breeze blowing your hair, the chatter of cheerful families, and the instructions blared at you through old speakers by a Santa-Claus type old man in the very back.
You are ushered to the entrance with an "All Ashore," command, and there you are, walking toward an unassuming door in a stone wall. They aren't kidding when the signs say, "You have a great past ahead of you!"
I said that Nature and Society live in harmony in Silver Dollar City, and that's because unlike most amusement parks, there are trees galore. Trees and flower beds with low stone walls. The paths are of asphalt, thus clear and easy to traverse, but on every border there are thick woods and usually shrubbery and climbing plants allowed to grow alongside them. In short, they have not conquered or subdued Nature, but rather have created a lovely lagoon where Nature and Society may coexist in close proximity. There are many places to sit down everywhere you look. In the summertime the trees provide shade. In the wintertime, they break the icy wind. Sometimes you can smell the woods, especially in the Autumn.
There are buildings everywhere, but they are built in old styles and with purposefully faded colors. All employees are dressed in period costumes of the 1800s, and all of them are friendly and helpful.
As you wander the streets of Silver Dollar City, you will see shops of every kind in every direction. You will smell home-cooking from the restaurants! Skillet meals, potato twists, and fried chicken as well as the traditional pizza, nachos, funnel cakes, loaded fries, and grilled sandwiches. One of my favorites is a bowl of Dippin' Dots ice cream. There are stands everywhere serving drinks. Frozen lemonade in the summer, and hot chocolate and wassail during the Christmas season.
You can see shows, too. They have performers of all sorts at Silver Dollar City, ranging from full-scale theater productions, to musicians performing on the streets. You can also stop to watch a blacksmith, a leather worker, a potter, an artist, or even a glass-blower in an indoor smithy! All of this punctuated by the wailing whistle of the Silver Dollar City train as it chugs by.
My parents took us to Silver Dollar City many times while we were growing up. The whole place is so steeped in memories that I find it difficult to describe the place in a coherent, linear way.
We used to go in the summer, and we would get drenched on the American Plunge or the Lost River of the Ozarks ride (which sadly they have demolished this year; hopefully they'll build another water ride on its site.) We'd walk around for the next few hours dripping until the sun and wind would dry us off. It was part of the experience, and hey, at least you were cool for quite a while!
Some rides, like "Fire in the Hole," and "Thunderation," have been around for decades. They're part of the old Silver Dollar City, and I find that even though I enjoy other rides more, I like their "tried and true," charm.
All of the roller coasters at Silver Dollar City have a theme to them. The Great American Plunge is the theme of those crazies (they do exist, sadly!) who bundle themselves into barrels and let themselves float downstream and over waterfalls. The posters say things amounting to, "Are you daredevil enough to brave the Great American Plunge?"
"Fire in the Hole," is an indoor roller coaster with a fireman's theme; each room shows a scene from old towns in the Ozarks, where notorious gangs like the Baldknobbers used to set fire to buildings, steal goods and livestock from the citizens, and the brave firemen who would rescue people from the burning buildings and homes.
My family is, without doubt, the most annoying family to ride with for "Fire In the Hole." It's a tradition that my dad started. When I and my sisters were younger, we were terrified of the dark and the hooded figures of the Baldknobbers. My dad had the brilliant idea of sitting next to us on the train and saying things like, "It's daaaaaaaark..!" in a spooky voice. Or yelling out obvious facts like, "The bridge is on fire!!" "Oh, nooo, it's the BAAALLDDKNOBBERSS!" or, "WATCH OUT, it's the MOOON!!"
We admittedly hated it for a long time, but somewhere along the way it turned into reacting to everything with screams or yelling advice to the stationary characters, clapping along to the cheerful bluegrass music playing for one stretch in the dark, and *pretending* to be scared. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism we used when we tried to coax the younger girls to ride it with us until we weren't scared anymore. And of course, for the last drop we all yell, "FIIRE IIIN THE HOOOOLE!"
The other riders can't see who we are. I can practically smell their bewilderment and embarrassment. We revel in it. Hey-oh! No regrets. It's a beloved family tradition.
I never have figured out what exactly the theme is for the newer, but no less beloved ride, "Wildfire." I can't tell if it's supposed to be a lab for controlling the weather or plans for a flying machine or some strange combination of the two. Then there's the "Tom and Huck River Adventure," (wonder who that's named after!) where you sit in a boat and shoot water cannons at riders on other boats. I've only ridden that one once, sadly. Oh, and there's the Giant Barn Swing, one of my personal favorites. I especially love to ride it in the dark at Christmastime. When you're shot into the air with your toes dangling over your head, you can look *up* and see Silver Dollar City all lit up below you in the thousands of Christmas Lights. That is not an experience to be missed.
There's the Powderkeg roller coaster, which I frankly do not care for all that much. I can do it, you know. I just don't like the crazy acceleration at the beginning.
There's the new "Time Traveler" ride, which is really neat. It's a ride that spins, but it's a *controlled* spin, not like the crazy stuff you see at Six Flags parks. The theme for that ride is, obviously, an inventor (and his daughter) who invite you to join them in a "time-traveling experiment." It's actually a very fun ride, and because it spins, it's really a different experience each time you ride. The weightlessness you feel in the soar and rush make it a truly unique experience.
But my favorite is "Outlaw Run." It's a huge wooden coaster, and the theme is of a stagecoach attempting to outrun the outlaws wanting to hold it up. No spoilers for this one except for what the female voice tells you each time you buckle up. "It's gonna be a wild ride!"
I do love the Wild West music they play as you wait in line, and the Aaron Copeland-esque fanfare they send you off with, along with the sound of a whip cracking, and horses neighing. "That was a little too close for comfort," you hear the old man's voice say as the ride slows to a stop. "But here at Silver Dollar City, the good guys always win."
Autumn is probably my favorite time to be in Silver Dollar City. There's the Harvest festival, the pumpkins everywhere, the hot cider and cocoa. Sometimes the water rides are still open in September. Also, that's when most people are back in school, so it isn't as crowded, and you have shorter wait time for everything.
And then there's Christmas. The shows are heartwarming and touch on the true reason for the season. During most of the year, they play Bluegrass music throughout the park, but at Christmas, they play a lot of Mannheim Steamroller Christmas albums, classics like the Carpenters and Michael Buble, and sometimes even symphonic arrangements of the familiar carols. It infuses the atmosphere with rich warmth and old magic. There's a giant Christmas tree that gives a light show, beginning when the sun goes down, and playing different songs at fifteen minute intervals. At Christmas, there are a lot of attractions that sound more exciting, but the light show is actually the most exciting.
Silver Dollar City is, as I said, steeped in memories of my family and friends. I've been there in the euphoria of child-like glee and the glow of its innocence. I've experienced it in loneliness, even when, (or perhaps especially) when in a crowd. I've felt myself lost there--emotionally set adrift in a sea of existential angst. I've experienced it in heartbreak, grief, and tears. And there have been times when I've come back in triumph, free at last from burdens I had long carried. Every time I visit, no matter where I am in my life, some of my childhood comes back to me. When I am walking the streets of Silver Dollar City I am ageless and capable of anything.
Silver Dollar City exudes joy and wonder. Freedom and order, Nature and Society, new beginnings and old memories side by side. Families and Friends, Neighbors in the faces of the crowds. Nostalgia and whispers of promises yet to be fulfilled. Youth and Age, Laughter and Solemnity together in a wondrous dance. Piercing Joy, profound sadness, and the deep certainty underneath it that one day all will be well.
I am always reluctant to leave, and I get the sense that the City feels sad to see me go. The blow is softened by the, not one, but two lovely gift shops you must walk through. I love the last-minute shopping on my way out. The trolley ride back to your car is peaceful. At least I have always found it so.
Once you're out of Branson, there's one more section to the trip. One that most people don't think too much about. The road back. That drive is incredible in the light of the rising sun, but I like it under the moon just as well.
I love to drive. While most people are zonked out and resting, I'm wide awake, navigating the winding roads in the velvety darkness of the country night. Somehow the way back is always facing the moon. She hovers in the sky just over the road ahead. She's an old friend of mine. We hold long conversations without saying a word. I'm thankful that most people sleep on the way home, because it gives me time to process the day, to store away memories, and to sort of organize it in my mind. I have time to think over what I liked, what I disliked, what I needed more of, what I can do better next time...and of course reliving the best moments. My mind can wander in that dreamy state of lunacy that somehow always gives me clarity.
I love to make playlists for myself, and I have a few for road trips. I can put them on and sing softly, if I like. I'm integrating yet more memories into the songs. Building them into my consciousness, mind, and personality. Into my past, present, and future.
My mother loves to drive, too. She liked driving back from Branson when our family would go for the day. I suppose I get it from her. I learned the hard way as a kid that my Mother needs cool air circulating in the car to stay awake when she drives late at night. One or two miserable experiences where I couldn't keep warm and couldn't sleep at the tail end of a long tiring day taught me to always bring socks, a jacket, a pillow, a blanket, etc./all of the above for the road back! So I crank up the air to stay alert. I layer up and brace myself against the cold. I think of it as a challenge to up my driving skills.
When I reach the bridge over the last river, I can see the radio towers far away on my right, their little red lights twinkling and dancing and waving across to me to welcome me. That's when I know I'm almost home. It makes me think of one of Tolkien's poems:
"Then world behind and home ahead,
We'll wander back to home and bed.
Mist and twilight, cloud and shade,
Away shall fade! Away shall fade!
Fire and lamp, and meat and bread,
And then to bed! And then to bed!"
See you soon, Silver Dollar City.
~Cadenza
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