The House Plan Didn’t Fit, but the Trout Did

 

Chapter 40: Blueprints in a Van

We met Brody and Casey in Fayetteville to go over our final house plan and cost estimate. They explained the inevitable price increase, answered our questions, and then casually handed us a massive house blueprint like it was a party favor. Nelson looked way too excited, and Casey even teased him about it. The real comedy came later, when we dragged the blueprint back into our van and realized we had nowhere big enough to open it. The “study room” is apparently our bed. 

Dinner at Rice Forest was a triumph: Hainanese chicken (spelled “Hainanmese,” which sounds like a typo but tasted amazing), Sichuan dumplings, and taro buns. I pretended I wasn’t the kind of person who once ate all three taro buns by myself… but Nelson knows the truth. Plans to hit the county fair were ruined by a thunderstorm, which was probably for the best since we were already full of chicken and starch.



Chapter 41: Freezer Defrost & Instant Friends

I finally faced down my archenemy: our over-iced tiny freezer. I picked the dumbest day to do it, because we had dinner guests that evening. The meltdown (literally) was slow and messy, but at least my future ice cream stash will thank me. 


The guests were Paul and Kathy, fellow campground-dwellers with a golden retriever so cute it was basically social bait. Like us, they’re new to Bella Vista, so over Taiwanese beef noodle soup and their chocolate-dipped shortbread with strawberries, we swapped “new in town” stories. They were warm, funny, and full of world-travel tales from Paul’s oil and gas career. By the end of the night, I realized how rare and energizing these little campground dinner parties are. Freezer: 0, human connection: 1.



Chapter 42: Rod Shopping and River Rituals

The lure of fishing brought us back to Roaring River. While Nelson worked, I bravely marched into Bass Pro Shop for rods. My genius plan of “just buy one like Martin’s” quickly dissolved when I found myself staring at hundreds of nearly identical rods. I grabbed a spinning rod for me and a cheap fly rod for Nelson—because apparently the fancy ones cost more than rent. 



By evening, we were back at the park, feeding baby trout at the hatchery (good luck charms, hopefully) and wandering to the cave at the spring. There’s something soothing about starting a fishing trip with a little ritual of fish food and cool caves.


Chapter 43: Trout Triumphs (and Tangled Lines)

Saturday was our true initiation into fly fishing. Nelson’s new fly rod came in four pieces and nine feet of confusion, while I tried to master my spinning rod, which mostly turned into a tangle simulator. Nelson caught his first trout within an hour (cheap rods for the win!), while I spent the morning swearing at knots. 


We both lost flies and worms to trees, rocks, and overconfident trout, so we marched to Tim’s Fly Shop for a professional scolding. Diagnosis: Nelson casts too hard, my line was too stiff, and we needed more stimulators (the bug, not the drug). 

Armed with fresh gear and wounded pride, we went back—and magic happened. Nelson caught seven trout, I caught four, and for the first time in my life, I was legitimately a fisherman. We cooked garlic-jalapeño stuffed whole trout that night, exhausted but victorious. 


By Sunday, we were back in Bentonville eating trout filets like pioneers, except our “self-sufficiency” was hilariously offset by the cost of fishing permits, tags, and gear. Still, we went to bed smug, salty, and very full.



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