Kiddy Pioneers of the Lake - Part Three

We finished our lunch and got on our feet. Hiking the south shore of Block Lake is difficult. The glacial moraine that forms the lake border is very steep. The mature basswood trees that grow on the hill have been sentinels since before Minnesota was a state. This land has never been harvested of wood nor farmed. Once in a while we would be lucky to find a deer trail that made walking slightly easier. Even the deer didn’t have what it took to walk close to the shore because their trails all angled uphill. Danny, Donny and I tromped along in silence. Eventually we came to the sand bar. The sand bar was a local hangout. High school aged farm kids would carpool to the resort and take a white rowboat with turquoise trim to the sandbar. With two sets of oars propelling a 14-foot wooden boat full of kids, they crossed the lake in no time. Oh, they looked like they were having fun. I longed to be part of a group like that when I got older. We always wondered what drew them to this spot. What did they do over here? Usually they stayed at the sand bar for an hour or two before rowing back. We couldn't see them from our cabins because they were so far away. The fact they could not be seen was probably the entire point of their journey. The sand bar made a nice swimming beach. We looked around but could not find any sign of teens being here – no trash, no bottles, no cigarette butts, no chairs, no campfire remains. Were these farm kids the creators of the “Leave No Trace” camping ethic? We didn’t linger very long at the sand bar. We wanted to dispel the lonely feelings we got from looking at our resort. The three lake pioneers resumed the march. Fern frond and basswood branches got in our way. We didn’t hold the branches for the person behind us. We just walked far enough apart that branches wouldn’t hit us. Danny was still a little grumpy about the short cut we didn’t take at Petey’s Bay. The old forest basswoods grew on such a steep slope that the trunks came out at all different angles. Granite boulders made walking so difficult we thought about walking in the lake instead. Out past the giant boulders in the lake we could see rocks under a couple feet of clear water. We had heard this side of the lake had drop-offs. Drop offs scared us. We listened to adults talk about drop offs and describe them as huge dangers. The three of us could swim but it never occurred to me that our swimming ability would lessen the danger of a drop off. The sharp slope of the hill continued the descent under the surface of the lake. Some of the rocks were as large as softballs. We’d have to take our shoes off to walk in the lake. Once in a while we’d have to swim around or climb over a tree trunk. Bass were probably hiding under those trees. We decided to stick to the land. My gait was off. My right foot was always higher than my left foot because of the slope. Sometimes my right foot was a little higher and other times it was 12 inches higher than my left. My ankles were tired of stabilizing my body weight at an angle. I was itchy and sweaty and tired of walking. We were getting a little bit grouchy so it was best we walked in silence. We weren’t quite sure but we thought it might be getting dark soon. We had been at this so long. The landscape changed. The hill went around a corner to the north and we were faced with a very wet trail. Ahead of us the tree trunks were submerged in water about a foot deep. We didn’t want to walk through this. We followed the dry land away from the shoreline for 50 feet. The situation was not any better. Everything around here was wet and each step we took away from the lake only added to our journey. We made the decision to walk through this submerged area with our socks and tennis shoes on. The water seemed a little bit stagnant. Black lake beetles scattered in circular patterns in front of us on top of the water. Under the water we could see schools of baby bullheads darting away. This part of the journey was hard even for us lake pioneers. We knew the other cabins couldn’t be too far away. The resort on the north side of the lake was always referred to as the other cabins. Once we got to that resort we would be back on gravel road again. Walking on the gravel road would be a picnic compared to this. This watery place had to be loaded with leeches. We slogged along walking between the dying basswood trees, unable to see through the forest. Now we were at a point where we couldn’t see the lake either. We heard red-winged blackbirds calling. Gradually the water got shallower. The trees grew farther apart. Clumps of cattails were visible. We could hear voices! We exchanged smiles because we knew we were near the other resort. We were going to make it out alive! We pushed our way through the bulrushes, separating them with our arms before stepping ahead. Finally we reached a lawn. We lay down on the mown grass and spread our limbs in the sun. It felt so good to rest. We were at the other resort. We had heard about this place but never been here before. Adults told us it wasn’t as nice as our resort. This resort had a dreaded drop-off. Kids could die at this resort by walking into the drop off. At our resort we had a sandy or muddy, gradual slope. The worst that could happen was leeches attaching to the thin skin between our toes. Getting tiny brown leeches between the toes was not unusual for me. I liked to swim under the dock where the leeches hung out. I’d pull at the leeches between my toes and the leech body would stretch and snap back out of my fingers. Sometimes I couldn’t get them off without sprinkling salt on them. Once the leeches were off, the bleeding continued for quite some time. Now that we were here at the other resort, it didn’t seem so bad. Kids were playing and they looked to be having a better time than we were. Some kids were swimming. The swimmers seemed to be having a good time despite the drop off. People were fishing off the dock. Boats were heading out for fishing. We knew we didn’t belong there so we walked quickly between the cabins to the driveway and back to the lake road and walked north. Our wet socks and the sand in our shoes irritated our feet. We were almost home. We could see our cabins get closer with every step. The walking was so easy. The lake road was low to the water at the beginning and we threw rocks into the lake as we walked. We saw some boats out fishing. Two boats were anchored near the island. The island hadn’t been visible for many years because the lake level rose and covered it. But we knew the invisible island was two thirds of the way across the lake closer to the other resort. Depth finders were not available yet so we used black heavy weights with a clamp on the top pinched on the end of our line. If our weight hit bottom at 4 or 5 feet, we knew we were above the island. Walleyes hung out there. Another boat was off the point. One was trolling in Petey’s Bay. We could see a boat way across the lake over by the dam. The closest boat was just off shore from us. Uncle Joe was trolling for walleyes. We waved at him as we walked along. We walked along as the road rose up 20 feet from the level of the lake. The hill on our right got steeper too and continued downhill under the water. This end of the lake held the deepest water. We passed a road sign that indicated a curve ahead. The sign showed evidence of target practice. Shots on target created shallow dents all over the sign. Now scrubby trees grew on the bank between the lake and us. Wild roses, sumac and raspberry canes held the soil to the slope. We wondered what time it was. We knew it had to be past suppertime but before bedtime. We quickly made it to the stop sign. On this northeast corner of the lake the water was very shallow. The water was no more than five feet deep for a long way out and full of lily pads. Some birches lined the rocky shore. We could have walked along the shore but didn’t. We preferred the gravel road. As we turned left, our Uncle Leo’s dairy farm was on the right. The field between the road and his house was planted in long, straight rows of corn this year. A few leopard frogs crossed the road as we walked along. Normally we would catch them. Uncle Joe would give us a dollar for a dozen leopard frogs. But lake pioneers don’t have the time or the energy for such enterprise. Our wet socks were rubbing sores on our feet and we were tired. We could hear the water tricking into the lake from the creek. We happily turned into the public access so we could take the side road that led to our resort. We made it. We completed our journey around the lake. To our dismay, the other kids including our siblings were not that excited to see us return. They were busy playing. They hardly looked up at us. We expected more acclaim. Donny and Danny returned to their cabin where Aunt Evelyn stood waiting. “Are you guys back? Did you have a nice walk?” Walk? Walk! We didn’t go for a walk! We hiked around the entire lake. We went on an adventure journey! We were lake pioneers! Donny asked if he could have supper. The three lake pioneers were shocked to hear that supper wasn’t for five hours yet, she had just finished the lunch dishes. The time was 12:30. Despite the early return and the frustration of taking the long way at Petey’s Bay, it was still an adventure; we were lake pioneers. Tomorrow - the epilogue