When you swipe your key card at Big Cedar Lodge and push open the door, you might feel as if you've walked into that scene in Snow White where the heroine--having fled the murderous huntsman into the deep forest--finds herself surrounded by woodland creatures. In our one-bedroom cabin, we were greeted by not only a trophy buck gazing down from over the fireplace but also a stuffed raccoon, a family of red foxes, a posed squirrel, a duck, a pheasant and five largemouth bass. More than 50 species of formerly living fauna keep guests company in the resort's restaurants, at the marina and even in the fitness center. This temple of taxidermy may be the only four-star getaway in the U.S. where "resort casual" attire includes camo.
In other words, Big Cedar is an unlikely venue for a PETA convention, but that's O.K., because this is a luxury resort and spa for red America. Not that there's anything political about an Ozarks paradise where waterfalls tumble through 800 acres of wooded hollow toward the watery playground of Table Rock Lake in southwestern Missouri. It's a cultural thing. No matter where you live or how you vote, if you feel (as I do) that the ideal Sunday brunch menu includes panfried chicken livers like Grandma made, Big Cedar is for you.
We began hearing about Big Cedar not long after we relocated from the East Coast to the Kansas City area in 2007 and soon realized that the place occupies a particular niche for vacationers in Middle America. It's a first-rate resort within a half-day's drive of prosperous neighborhoods in Memphis; St. Louis; Kansas City; Wichita, Kans.; Tulsa, Okla.; and Little Rock and Bentonville, Ark., to name a few of the midsize cities surrounding the Ozarks. Driving to Big Cedar is a welcome alternative to airport security lines and delayed flights.
This past summer, we finally hit the road to see what the fuss was about and passed a lazy weekend reading and dozing to the soothing thrum of powerboats on the lake. It's a favorite summer pastime in the heartland--burning gas in outboard engines--and there's something very peaceful about losing yourself in a 110-decibel cocoon.
The vibe is a bit different in autumn, when the leafy hollow is a riot of color and the bass and shad rise from the lake's deep reaches to feed in shallower water. Hunters staying at Big Cedar can rise before dawn to go after white-tailed deer or wild turkey in nearby Mark Twain National Forest and be warm and dry for supper at sunset. Winter at Big Cedar is something else again--hot tubs, wagon rides and bonfires--while springtime is a haze of dogwood blossoms, with lilac scenting the air.
Indeed, the hollow is so picturesque that it attracted wealthy businessmen long before the resort was built. Railroad executive Harry Worman and entrepreneur Jude Simmons commissioned large vacation homes in the 1920s overlooking a deep spring known as Devil's Pool and, in the distance, the winding White River. After World War II, the river was dammed to create Table Rock Lake, which eventually became one of the best bass-fishing reservoirs in the country.