“I want to go home,” I tell Jerry. “It’s creepy here. I hear monkeys outside.”
“Aw, c’mon. Have fun. I’m having fun. Be adventurous.”
It’s a little before sunset and we’re inside Cabin #4 on Big Bug Creek.
When we checked in at the front desk at the main lodge, I asked the clerk if he knew why the creek is named Big Bug Creek. I hoped he would calm my apprehensions of mammoth bugs waiting for us in our cabin.
The clerk, a sixtyish gentleman wearing gray slacks hoisted by suspenders, answered without making eye contact. “I have no idea,” he said. “We have no big bugs. Now, please read this form and sign it.”