Since the nature of a neurotic, Disney mom (NDM) is to maximize the few days she is given in her laughing place, efficiency is paramount. Her family quickly learns this concept and adopts the practice of divide and conquer. So, as all competent partners of a NDM should do, DH dashes to the check-in line to secure a position while I lag behind with the three short-legged persons of our crew.
Ooohs and Aaaaws are whispered as we discover the imprints of wilderness creatures embedded in the sidewalk. Then we scope out our surroundings in hopes of spotting one of these creatures. Suddenly, DD3 screams wildly, Look, Mom! We all turn in the direction of her little finger and enthusiastically run to the source of her excitement. Good fortune has decided to shine upon us today, for right in front of our eyes stands a behemoth-sized, buffalo bush and her baby. We recognize the rare occurrence of viewing such animals and commence with the inevitable mini photo-shoot. Once every angle of the chia-pets has been photographed, we proceed to the lodge entrance.
Exceptionally calm and happy park rangers who extend a welcoming gesture towards the lobby doors greet us. The large, glass doors magically slide open when we approach, and we all join hands and enter with great anticipation.
Walking into the great expanse of the Wilderness Lodge lobby proves to be more difficult than we had considered. We are unable to take more than five steps in because the upward movement of our eyes along with the drop of our jaws somehow halts the forward motion of our feet. Fellow guests, hoping to enter the lodge as well, find our stricken family to be a significant obstacle in their path. But little can be done for the moment because the immense and wondrous atmosphere of the lobby has removed all consciousness of the existence of others.
A gentle park ranger encourages us to take a few more steps so that the walkway can be free flowing once again. This breaks the spell of the lobby, and I remember that DH is about to check-in. I quickly hurry the children to the designated cartoon-viewing area for all VWL occupants. Then, with stunning grace, I pass all the people who are waiting patiently in the check-in line and join DH at the counter.
I arrive just in time as the check-in lady gives us the option of taking a room that is immediately available or waiting for the room category she sees as requested. DH looks as if he is tempted to relinquish the coveted pool view, so I quickly take charge of the situation. He doesnt know of the many hours I invested in reading detailed reports of room categories and their particulars. He hasnt pleaded with fellow listmates on various Disney boards to share their experiences of VWL. All this has been done so that a wise decision could be reached on this delicate matter, and I am not about to let my hard work be wasted.
I motion to DH that I will handle this detail and explain to the patient check-in maid that we will hold out for the pool view on the 3rd floor. She confirms that I have chosen the better option since all other views consist of inert trees. Inert trees do not allow for observing others in Disney action during the rare moments that oneself is not engaged in it, so such a view is unacceptable to a true NDM. I breathe a sigh of relief that disaster has been avoided by my timely arrival at DH side.
We are handed a folder containing all pertinent information for VWL residents, a phone number to call periodically for the updated status of our villa, and gift bags for our angelic offspring. And then it happens. The words that I have so longed to hear are spoken. Welcome home, the hospitable clerk chirps. My heart soars, for hearing this phrase marks the realization of a long-awaited dream. I am home. I have arrived. This is real.
Armed with our newly acquired check-in tools, we are prepared to begin our wilderness adventure. Once again, divide and conquer is the tactic we utilize. DH treks back out into the parking lot to find capable park rangers who will help him transfer our groceries from the warm minivan to the safety of refrigeration. I gather my little ones, and we embark on an exploration of our temporary settlement.
The thrill of being here is palpable, and we scurry from place to place.
DD3 declares that a bridge in the lobby, spanning the width of a creek and a bubbling hotspring, is her favorite. She requests a photo of herself on it so that the memorable location will be secured in a family scrapbook. DD8 is impressed by the etchings on the gold elevator doors. And DS6 seems ready to set up camp near the lanyard and pin kiosk since the shiny ornaments call to his collecting instincts.
I am unable to select a feature that appeals to me above the others. There is a great stone fireplace whose presence compliments the gargantuan rocking chairs that face it. We see a mercantile off to the side that serves as a perfect place to beckon passers-by to purchase a caricature drawing. And not to be overlooked, carefully placed Mickey Mouse heads remind you that even in the wilderness, our great hero is not forgotten. I cant help but love everything I see from the towering, totem poles to the boisterous noise exuding from the Whispering Canyon Café, for it all comes together in a beautiful arrangement.
The kids and I tramp through each floor. We want to see this great room from every angle. And we are rewarded as each level provides new views that would otherwise have been missed. Overlooking the railings, we find animal carvings in the large, supporting framework. The carpet and wallpaper reveal small Mickey figures upon closer observation. And there are cozy retreats sporadically hidden for occupants who want to read a book or take in spectacular views of Bay Lake.
We move on to discover the extending areas of the lobby. In an annex, off of the lobby, there is a table, strategically located, which advertises the virtues of being a DVC member. I conceitedly walk by since I no longer am in need of such information. I already am a member. The lyrics of their club song have proven to be true. I did believe in magic, as the melody suggests you should, and now I belong.
A few more steps bring us to an upward, sloping ramp to the Territory Lounge and Artists Point (an upscale restaurant). Since neither of those places is of immediate interest we take a downward, sloping ramp to the Roaring Forks (a quick-service eatery). DH rejoins us since the helpful park rangers have now assumed responsibility of our edible possessions, and we entertain the idea of having a snack since we all are getting hungry.
I check out the food options in this rustic café. To my surprise, they have a couple types of fresh produce available for consumption. Finding a fruit that is acceptable for my children, we inform them that they will be able to satisfy their carnal longings and participate in the business of an actual WDW eating facility! This is a rare treat since meals made from scratch are not regularly provided outside of our kitchen. I say a quick prayer of thanks to the Disney-powers-that-be for carrying a few healthier food choices than the routine burger, fries and soda. And the children ingest their fruit as quickly as their mouths allow. We dispose of our trash and decide to see what the pool has to offer.
We walk outside into the courtyard. The pool is close by, and its surrounding scenery is lovely. Huge stone formations emerge from healthy bushes and flowers. Shade trees hang over a shimmering creek that begins in the lodge but empties into a large free-form pool. Little bunnies play hide-and-seek with willing guests, and ducks enjoy their company, too, since the pool has no species restrictions . Laughter is heard in the air as an endless line of adults and children take turns sliding down a slippery rock. But the suffocating heat and humidity force us to recede back into the comfort of the air-conditioned lobby.
It is time to make a phone call. My little angels are quickly devolving into miserable beings due to missing their scheduled nap. It becomes obvious that our initial exploration of the Wilderness Lodge facilities has ended, and we find ourselves longing for the comfort of personal space.
The entire family huddles around DH in the lobby phone booth as he converses on the phone with those whom hold our fate in their hands. Much information is exchanged, and DH hangs up the phone. He announces that we have finally been granted permission to take up residence in room #3517. Magically, my irritable munchkins become happy park rangers and jump up and down in celebration.
We march out of the lobby and down the path towards the area of the villas. The building we come upon is very inviting with a beautiful, open room housing a large birdcage and some stuffed, leather rocking chairs. I note that entry to the fitness center, Sturdy Branches, is located here but know this is one area of the resort that I doubt I will investigate. Off to the side of the atrium is a room with tables set up for checkers and chess. Train models, replicating those of Walt Disneys personal collection, compliment the décor of the room too. It looks so inviting, but right now the call of our room is stronger.
When we find the location of our room, I cant believe how perfect it is. The kiddos are delighted that the view outside our front door overlooks the atrium, and I soon discover another unexpected perk. The view off our balcony not only provides sights of the pool but also a small walkway. This should provide plenty of opportunities for people watching, and I am so pleased with what we have been given. Of all villa rooms, we are the closest to the bus stop, the main lobby and the elevators. I doubt that our placement could have been more ideal.
As we familiarize ourselves with the layout of our 1 bedroom villa, our luggage and groceries are delivered. I glance at the clock and realize that there is no time to lose. We have plans to attend Chip and Dales campfire sing-a-long and movie at Fort Wilderness, and this is to begin in a few hours. DH takes his position in the kitchen, unpacking the groceries and starting the preparation of our dinner. Like a headless chicken on steroids-- the most familiar speed of a NDM--I run between the bathroom, bedroom, living room and closet, placing all items in their designated positions for the week.
The meal is served, but the pace is rushed because the clock is ticking. We are not going to make it! Hurry! Hurry, I coax the family, We still have to change. The campfire begins at 8:00pm, so I cleverly deduce that we should put on warmer attire and bring jackets so that as the sun goes down we wont be troubled by the dropping temperatures and chilling breeze. DH, DD8 and DS6 declare that they dont want to bother with changing outfits. I try to influence them to choose wisely and not make a decision they will regret, but they hold firm to their way of thinking. OK, I surrender, but dont blame me when you find your clothes are inadequate. I concede that some people have to learn their lessons the hard way, and I change DD3 (who is not old enough to refute my wisdom) into jeans and long sleeves.
We run out of our room, past the dormant geyser and down to the marina. I am thoroughly prepared as I recall the information I have gathered from countless hours of online investigation. I know that we are seeking boats that fly the flag of blue, for these are the boats that travel between the Wilderness Lodge, the Contemporary Resort, and Fort Wilderness. Making the mistake of boarding a red flag-flying sea vessel, the boats bound for MK, would be fatal to our evening schedule. So we are careful to veer to the right side of the marina, and we search anxiously for any incoming ships.
It is not long before we hear the pleasant horn of our designated boat. With excitement, we greet our skipper and pick a seat. Once the boat leaves port and we are clipping along the water, I quickly recognize that these boats will become one of the highlights of my vacation. There is something very calming about sliding across the waves with the wind blowing through your hair, as the evening sky grows dimmer. I know that I must return to this activity on another evening.
We reach the port of Fort Wilderness, exit the boat, and begin our search for the location of the campfire. I briefly notice that the air is not as cool as I had anticipated for late May, but I brush the observation aside since it will certainly grow cold when the sun finally sets. The greater task of finding the campfire is rather pressing at this point and climate conditions are secondary.
The family flits from place to place . . . no great campfire is within sight. The quick pace of our endeavor is elevating my body temperature, and I feel slightly uncomfortable. We seek guidance from a local country store and are informed that we must navigate a difficult bus system to arrive at the campfire . . . not only that but the desired spot for boarding the bus is still a slight distance away. What?! How can this be? There is no time for such inefficiency!
We leave the store with much haste. At this point, all facades of proper decorum are dropped. We break out into a run that any cross-country athlete would envy, dodging horses, carriages and unfortunately placed pioneers. I look down at DD3 who is holding my hand. Little beads of sweat are forming on her hairline because for every step that I take, she has to take two or three, but I rationalize this will be justified once she is in the presence of Chip and Dale.
Somehow, we locate the desired bus stop and bus. The tension builds, though, as we make visits to many other bus stops before reaching ours. Finally, we reach our destination and disembark. A quick look around shows us that our journey is still not complete, for there is no sign of a campfire. We, apparently, must trek further into the wilderness if we hope to enjoy the companionship of the beloved, furry friends.
Again we resume our accelerated pace. I see that DD3 now looks as if someone had poured water on top of her head and she is turning the color of a kickball. Why were the temperatures not dropping? How can I expect this child to sit near a campfire under such conditions? This was all going wrong . . . terribly, terribly wrong!
As we pass by smarter campers, dressed in as little clothing as possible, I become acutely aware of their troubled glares. DD3 appearance gives much cause for concern, and I realize that--as embarrassing as it may be--the only humane course of action is to strip her down. As DD3 goes topless, many families look at us disapprovingly. But I feel backed into a corner at this point. The humidity is overbearing, and there is not even a wisp of wind. They should be thankful that I have shown enough restraint to keep myself from going topless.
The campfire area is now within sight. Amazingly, we arrive before the show has started. There is still an empty bench awaiting the weight of our backsides, so we oblige it by sitting down . . . half-naked child and all. In an attempt to regain some composure, I hang DD3 shirt across her chest and tie the long sleeves around her back. She makes it known that this is not her preferred style of dressing, but I suggest that maybe she will start a new fashion. Although she continues to object, she becomes distracted by the song leader who now takes her place on the platform.
In no time, Chip and Dale make their appearances to the delight of everyone. And after a few rounds of Its A Small World and The Hokey Pokey, we are a little more relaxed albeit hot. We are then informed that the movie of the night is Homeward Bound. DH and I glance at each other and telepathically communicate thatas cute as it may bethis film is not worth enduring the breezeless atmosphere of the campground any longer. The children agree, so we make our exit.
Once back on the boat, the wind becomes more available. We start to cool now that the sun has disappeared. I curse the day that long sleeves were invented, but at least the weather conditions finally allow DD3 to resume the social practice of wearing clothes.
The vessel is more full than usual, so we take our places up near the skipper. The skipper taps DS6, who is seated right next to him, on the knee and quietly asks him if he would like to drive the boat. DS6 looks around to see if anyone has overheard this invitation. No one has, and DS6 feels safe to respond. He does not speak but only nods in agreement so as not to betray the secrecy of their plan. So when the boat is launched and on its way, the skipper discretely explains the operation of his ship behind the view-impeding engine. Under the cloak of darkness, my little captain takes the wheel and ably takes us to the next port.
DS6 wears a smile that beams even in the night. It becomes clear that he has found his calling in life. Any previous thoughts of growing up to be a paleontologist, firefighter or architect seem empty. He was born to be a skipper, navigating the waters of Bay Lake.
Our boat makes a stop at the Contemporary Resort first, so we disembark once again to look around a bit. To our delight, High School Musical is being shown on the beach. This more mature film is appropriate fare for our DD8 who believes she is already a tween, and DS6 and DD3 like the idea of being near the sand.
We are lucky enough to find lounge chairs right in front of the screen, so we make ourselves comfortable under the twilight. DD8 and I become totally immersed in the drama unfolding before our eyes, but the other family members quickly grow restless. It is time to fall back on the unfailing practice of divide and conquer.
DH gathers DS6 and DD3 and heads for the marina. DD8 and I make the most of our unexpected mother-and-daughter moment, snuggling together in a shared lounge chair while we watch on to learn the fate of Troy and Gabriella. In the distance, I see the Electrical Water Pageant on the lake. It seems certain that DH and the younger critters are enjoying that spectacle from the marina since boat transportation stops for the duration of the show.
Gratefulness wells up inside my heart as I hug DD8 a little more tightly. These are the memories I had hoped we would make. It has been a busy day, but it has been a fulfilling day.