Sherry's Story . . . 


Let's face it - at my age . . . I've had a lot of chapters in my life. I've got a bag of tricks filled from Girl Scouting and counseling skills, pretty hard core biking skills with a big trip of bicycling across the U.S.A., Sunday cruising skills in Ms. Louise ('57 TBird) - isn't she a pretty hunk of metal?​​

Other life chapters include developing cooking skills over an open campfire in cast iron pots, hiking and fishing skills, way too many hours spent in classes for degrees in art skills, and skills as a military wife, mother skills of three super human beings, veterinarian tech skills, commercial artist skills before entering the field of education and

s-h-h-h . . .don't tell anyone but I have a love affair with my camera and computer.  

​​If you like knives - another
secret passion of mine - head up to the office and check out my collection.  Sure...I'll let you touch them and oh-h-h and aw-w-w-w.

It's not a hidden secret that teaching 8th graders honed my
Ninja skills to manage an RV park.

Just like most folks, when I was eight years old, I had nary an inkling of what life would hold for my future. Thinking that drawing on my momma's wallpaper with her lovely lipstick might have been a clue,  ya think? But the
out-of-door wanderlust obviously won out since I've tried to pack as much adventure and curiosity into my 7 decades as possible.  Maybe I was just meant to be in the out-of-doors since I spent many a summer at Camp Latonka and Camp Shoshoni as a camper and counselor.

After retirement, hubby  (#2) and I got the itch to explore the RV-ing life. The very first campground we camped at was...go ahead, guess!  Yep.  Pheasant Acres RV Park at Saint James, Mo. Little did I know that I this
sweet little piece of Ozark Paradise
would provide me with amazing daily entertainment since 2010 and give me many years of laughter, friendships and meet and greets with wonderful campers from all walks of life.

But here is the
missing piece about  coming to Pheasant Acres RV Park.  Way back in the college days of 1963, as a SEMO student in Cape Girardeau...I married my first hubby, Don, and not having much funds for a honeymoon, we packed up a tent and fishing gear in the 1952 Robin's egg blue Chevy and headed to Maramec Spring Park in St. James.  To think that 47 years later, I would return to the area, purchase this sweet little piece of land in Phelps County, and begin a new chapter as owner of Pheasant Acres RV Park, just TWO MILES from where I spent my honeymoon 47 years ago.  Lucky me, everyday I enjoy the beauty of this area, happily living on a very historical piece of land that the Cherokee walked on in December of 1838 - the Trail of Tears.

Each evening after I check to see that the campers are bedded down and I put my head on my pillow surrounded by Ember, Mork, Mindy, Fred and Ginger...whew...I am thankful that I am in the
perfect chapter of my life . . . here in the Foothills of the Ozarks.