The Sights are The Dells
My favorite location in my game Corn Sausage RPG is The Sights, a wondrous miracle of nature that attracts tourists from all over the country. The shame of it is that access to those namesake sights is obstructed by conniving conmen and carnies. Cheap tourist traps and overpriced attractions guard gates that are invisible from the outside but, once passed through, fill visitors with the at-first subtle but always growing feeling that there is no escape.
But once they really get inside-- once would-be victims sneak beyond the scams and rackets, chain restaurants and junk shops selling garbage-- they find unforgettable views of blanketed green islets and the starry heavens above them. They can wander, guided by gentle winds that carry a breeze so fresh it can only be from a pre-human Earth.
That last word salad applies less to my videogame and more to one of my inspirations: the Wisconsin Dells. At the heart of the cheese state, along the Wisconsin River, is an otherworldly beautiful natural landscape. But, built right in the middle of it all is a long and miserable web of dirty motels, kitschy traps, and restaurants where patrons can taste savings that will never be known to their wallets.
My fiance and I stopped there some years ago on a road trip vacation around all of Lake Michigan. We'd heard The Dells were the place to be, with no shortage of fun activities for the bored tourist... Let's just say we did it wrong.
Our initial impression was a general confusion. Passing by a rollercoaster, the Parthenon, and the Incredible Hulk, we thought we might have stumbled accidentally on state fairgrounds. We must be in the wrong place, we reasoned. The first landmark I remember seeing from the car was a giant Trojan Horse, an appropriate omen-slash-welcome wagon for this nest of hucksters.
We stopped in a parking lot, confused as all hell, as a twelve or fifteen-foot-tall counterfeit Decepticon towered over our car. The obelisk and its many comrades stood guard in front of Top Secret, an "upside-down" White House that advertised to be hiding inside of itself the secrets of the universe.
The exterior told us all that we needed to know. We were in the deepest, most concentrated pit of consumerism. A junk town built with schemes, scams, and every trick you can think of to score a quick buck from a justpassingthrough. This struck me as the kind of place where the habitually incurious go to spend their money on reasons why they ought not to stray too far from the familiar.
For the modest entry fee of $5.00, you too can wander through the inverted halls of the white house and see the wonders of cheap furniture stapled to the ceiling and printer paper portraits hung upside-down. Deep within its labyrinthian bumpy, concrete corridors is its namesake-- the top secret chambers at the bottom (or top?) of the white house, where they've jailed horrific alien freaks, such as Darth Vader and a band of Stormtrooper mannequins.
After our daring escape from the unbearable truths Top Secret and its Donald Trump animatronic had to offer, we ventured down the road to heal our souls with a petting zoo. What a mistake that was. The animals were all visibly sad, lethargic, or otherwise in no mood to be pet. They had no business bearing responsibility to cheer anyone up, let alone the poor suckers wandering this twisted hell hole, force-feeding them scraps from the vending machine. A handful of said scraps, by the way, was about $10.00. Less value for more buck than Top Secret.
But even after all that misery we still had time to kill, as we'd booked a local dinner cruise for later that evening. That meant, unless we were willing to give up almost two-hundred bucks, we could not leave this-- for lack of more flowery language-- depressing shit hole. Our hearts couldn't possibly take any more of this.
We took refuge at a nearby state park. Unsurprisingly, such a place was not immune to the toxic leakage from the Dells' central crossroads. A worn-down playground littered with used condoms and other, less memorable pieces of garbage, was surrounded by beautiful but tick-infested woods. At least nature's bloodsuckers were merciful enough to leave us alone that day.
We had the lowest expectations for this cruise. We considered dinner alternatives, in case the food was inedible. As the time came, we approached the boat with our spirits and stomachs drained. I just wanted the night to end so I could sleep away and skip to the next morning. It was the least excited I'd ever been to get on a boat.
I'll cut right to the chase: It was magnificent. Sure, there is a chance my perspective was colored because my expectations were in rock-bottom, but I don't believe it. This was truly a wonderful experience.
Three white-haired brothers ran the operation, taking turns with different duties. One would captain the boat, another was the entertainment with acoustic guitar, and I forget what the third one did. Together they put on a boat tour full of charm, love, and laughter. And booze.
The boat took us to The Witch's Gulch, an enchanting piece of nature mostly protected from mankind by law and by water. A secret wonderland of verdant everything. The air there was fresh, wet, and carried the smell of moss and wood, and felt regenerative to my smokers' lungs. Wooden walkways were wet but not slick. The handrails smooth and eroded by millions upon millions of hands seeking balance from them. Tiki torches lit the way as the sun set during our short, linear but nonetheless whimsical trek. Us and the other tourists ooh-ing and aah-ing, and letting out other mystified utterances that echoed upwards beyond the short, fern-and-moss-covered ravines.
After we were guided like a herd of happy sheep through the gulch we returned to the boat for an honest-to-god good meal. I could taste that the cook was paid enough to not have to daydream about doing anything else. No, it wasn't the best I'd ever had, but it was better than I could have dreamed of coming from a boat kitchen in The Dells.
As the sun set, us and our fellow adventurers sang along drunkenly as one of the brothers played folksy classics on his guitar. He took requests. I asked for "La Vie en Rose" for Tessa. He didn't know it, so he hang a song that was special to him and his wife. Under the stars, above the water, and beside the love of my life, I couldn't help but feel great joy. Gratitude that I was alive to experience that moment. Sentimental already for the times I would be able to look back on that night as I experienced it.
I was filled with optimism and love for humankind. All around us on the boat were happy, healing people. I felt privileged to share the night with all of them. To share the experience with Tessa.
So now The Dells occupy a space in my mind as a microcosm of this country. Beneath the many layers of ugliness, cronyism, and everything else there is to be disgusted by, there is somehow still a redeeming beauty in its nature and its people. As with everything special we'll find people taking advantage of it, but as long as we're not alone in appreciating it and loving it, there is hope for its preservation. There is goodness. There is healing.
Thank you for reading.
