I have never needed a fancy vacation to help me relax. Seriously, why would you? All you need is plenty of time, some water, some sun, some family, some junk food, and several books. Honestly, I wouldn't want a pricey ocean-front hotel with gorgeous views. I never feel like I'm enjoying those expensive views enough! Which brings me to rural Lake Wapello State Park near Bloomfield, Iowa. This July, I spent one blissful week there, taking a break from my graduate classes and cramped apartment living and traffic. Clint was even able to stop by for a long weekend.

Wapello has a rich history in my family. My mom used to be a social worker, and the place she worked at, Bethany Home, a residential facility for children, would take the kids living there to state parks during the summer. Well, one summer they hit upon Lake Wapello, and soon after, all the staff were coming on their own, without the kids. That was years ago, and the Wapello tradition has continued every year since. No one works at Bethany any more, and there are grandkids in the mix now, but many of the same group return faithfully.

I myself first visited Wapello at age two, and most summers I remember loading up the cars with coolers, bikes, and towels and driving west. Often, we'd stop in Muscatine for some fresh melon, filling the car with the juicy scent as we continued on. Sometimes I’d wear my swimsuit for the drive down, thus commencing, a little early, a week of rolling down a sopping suit and yanking it on, damp, later in the day.

Sadly, I am grown. The days of swim-nap-eat-swim-nap-eat are over, as are the nights of board games, Willy Wonka, and flashlight tag with the other kids. What are they replaced with? Sipping tea outside in the morning, where no matter what time it is, it’s absolutely silent and golden. Browsing the fresh produce at the Amish country store, deciding what to cook for dinner. Deer spotting at dusk. Sleeping in.

Wapello’s best lesson is a cliché, and I’m okay with that: Some of the best pleasures in life are simple ones. Hey, it’s Iowa. We don’t need white sand or nightclubs or even restaurants that serve wine. Have you ever spotted a gangly fawn and his mother trying to sip from a lake as you paddle by in your boat? Aren’t blueberry pancakes made from fresh-that-day blueberries the best? How often do you stop and take a picture of a blazing sunset? These are the events that fill Wapello days, from pale misty mornings to lounging-in-warm-lake-water afternoons to firewood-scented evenings. You can stroll through the woods, letting the bugs’ buzz drown out thought. You can grill your dinner directly on the campfire. You can play croquet on a wildly uneven lawn at dusk, sipping a refreshing beverage. You tell me: what else do you need?