By Barrett White
The land where Eureka Springs, Arkansas, sits is Osage land. Though the Osage people protected their land from neighboring tribes, they allowed people from any tribe—hostile neighbors or not—to bring their ill onto the land to visit the natural springs, believed to have healing properties. This historic, benevolent gesture of goodwill is well-remembered in present-day Eureka Springs. Just ask locals David and Ethan Avanzino, who jointly run the Wanderoo Lodge—an LGBTQ-owned and -operated outdoor adventure lodge in the heart of Eureka Springs.
“I transitioned in 2015 in corporate America,” says Ethan. At the time, he was living in Dallas, Texas, and working a corporate position with a company that affirmed his identity. “When the Texas ‘bathroom bill’ came out, I knew that I was privileged, white, middle class, and accepted by all the people in my circle, and I realized this fight was something I could dedicate time to. I asked men [who supported the bill] if they realized that I would be in the bathroom with their wives, should the bill be passed. For some of these people, it was the first time that they could say they knew a trans person.”
Following the bathroom bill fight at the Texas Capitol, Ethan treated his “bathroom bill squad” to a getaway at the campsite of choice for LGBTQ+ Texans, the legendary Rainbow Ranch. It was while resting poolside at the Ranch that Ethan and David, who is also from Dallas, first spoke. They were married in 2018, David taking Ethan’s last name. “It was a huge deal to me; I never thought I would be able to give someone my name.”
“We first fell in love with Eureka Springs in 2018,” Ethan continues. On a return visit the following year, the couple purchased a small cabin on acreage to use as a getaway from the hustle of Dallas a few times a year. At the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic just four months later, they thought it would be safer to wait it out in their cabin, “in the middle of nowhere,” instead of their inner-city Dallas apartment. “Like most people, we thought it would be a couple of weeks. Two weeks turned into a month, turned into a few months. Then, our Dallas lease was up in June 2020. We had to give notice to vacate, but we knew that we would still be in Arkansas. . . . so we took the leap. Our five-year plan was fast-tracked by COVID.”
Ethan, already working from home due to the pandemic, kept his job remotely. David, formerly in private security and investigative work, left his position in Dallas for the relocation. Now in Eureka Springs full time, they jumped into the community, purchasing a lodge with an attached bar in December 2020. “It was a turnkey operation,” David says. “We didn’t have a single day offline between the previous owner and us.”
“We had never done any of this before: owning a hotel, bar, or restaurant,” David continues. “But we know how to create magic.”
Once called a “queer haven for travelers and locals alike,” the Avanzinos say that the magic happens around the fire pit. Sometimes amusing, and always heartfelt, the stories from Wanderoo are as many as they are deep. David recalled a man with “a crazy Arkansas accent,” who met him just after the couple had purchased the lodge. The man asked David what his “missus” thought about the purchase, to which David corrected him with a “mister.” “Shut the fuck up! I’ve never met a gay!” the man replied.
“Just two months ago, that man asked David to dance at an event we held at the lodge,” Ethan says.
Then, there was Caleb.
Eureka Springs has Diversity Weekend in spring, summer, and autumn. “It’s their Pride weekend, basically,” Ethan begins. “The whole town goes gay.”
With the pandemic in full swing, all of the Diversity Weekends were canceled. However, attendees of the popular event had still planned to be Eureka Springs—they’d booked flights and hotel rooms. The Avanzinos took to Facebook to accommodate the influx of tourists, announcing a pandemic-friendly outdoor “unofficial Diversity Day” at the Wanderoo.
“I saw a baby Ethan, a kid who was AFAB, but I didn’t know how to talk to them,” Ethan says. Speaking with the kid’s grandmother, she told Ethan that her “granddaughter is trying to figure out who she is.” Ethan knew the feeling all to well. “I used to be someone’s granddaughter. Can we talk about it?” he responded. In a warm exchange, she told him her grandchild is Caleb and directed Ethan to the kid’s father.
“The dad looked intimidating. Black tank, muscular. Someone you didn’t want to mess with,” Ethan says. “But something said it’s okay, go talk.” He did.
Ethan told Caleb and his father about his chat with Caleb’s grandmother, reassuring him that everything would be okay. Caleb began to cry—and so did his father. “The dad was like, ‘You have no idea what this means to us.’” Later in the night, while Caleb was off with his cousins, the dad wrapped Ethan in a surprise bear hug. Ethan asked the man if he had support as a parent. When he said he didn’t (and wasn’t sure if he needed it), Ethan introduced him to a friend. “Now, my friend and Caleb’s dad are friends, and they’re going on vacation together this weekend,” Ethan shares.
While these stories warm the heart and inspire good, there are also days like the Sunday when a couple, due to spend a week at Wanderoo, arrived at check-in asking to cancel their reservation. The Quasar Progress Pride flag, which flies at the lodge year-round, was against their religion. The Avanzinos, unperturbed, refunded the couple for their extensive stay in full. “That’s not money we want in our bank account. Money isn’t worth bending our beliefs.”
The Avanzinos add however, that if we lived in echo chambers, there would be no room for change. While it might be comforting to some to be surrounded by people cut of the same cloth, that environment leaves no room for progress. “I hope that when these people leave, they take the experience with them,” Ethan says. “Maybe they’ll meet a trans person after me, and maybe it’ll be a better interaction because of it.”
The altruistic intent behind the work that the Avanzinos do with Wanderoo doesn’t stop with the lodge and attached Gravel Bar, either. The couple is also preparing to launch Safe to Be, a tiny-home community for LGBTQ+ folks who have been rejected by their families. The property that the Avanzinos originally purchased back in 2019 rests on 22 acres, which they plan to utilize for the project. “We’re all familiar with similar communities for the homeless and for veterans; this one is for queer folks,” David continues. “But there’s a lot left to do.”
When fully realized, Safe to Be is intended to provide services like job training and behavioral health, but for now—between fundraising efforts and pandemic—they’ve had to slow their progress temporarily. “But the Wanderoo has rooms available for people in emergency situations,” David says. “It’s already happened twice.”
In time, the Avanzinos plan to ensure that the lodge is self-sustaining so that they can dedicate more time to Safe to Be. But for now, the Wanderoo must survive the pandemic. “We may have those long nights and tough days,” the Avanzinos agree. “But when it comes to making connections and seeing people for who they are, that’s what gives us purpose.”
The Wanderoo Lodge and Gravel Bar are open year-round, including the winter months. More information on Wanderoo, including booking availability and rates, can be found on their website.
Leslie Anne
October 17, 2021 at 8:13 AMThese two are a blessing of LoVe in today’s crazy judgmental world & I am beyond honored to call them friends and LoVe them as family.