Once we got past the dam, we had no roads to follow. Our plan was to keep the lake on our left. On our right was a thick, mosquito-infected, virgin basswood forest on a very steep hill. Large granite boulders dotted the shoreline. Some of these boulders were as large as cars. I was the oldest so I took the lead. We found sticks in the forest to use as hiking canes. We started off. Branches slapped our faces and raspberry canes scratched our legs. For safety, we had to keep our eyes down for every step. Some fallen trees were easy to step over. Some trees had not fallen all the way to the ground so we could crawl under their trunks. Other trees had to be crawled over or walked around. The hill on our right got so steep there was no way to ascend it. Sometimes it was a little easier to walk three or four feet away from the shoreline, but not here. We disturbed a great blue heron and it flapped away in silence. Even though I was hot I wished I had worn long pants instead of the shorts I had on. My cousins wore their typical "Leave It To Beaver" clothes - cut off jeans with short-sleeved t-shirts with wide, colorful horizontal stripes. We hoped there wasn't poison ivy on this side of the lake. After an hour or so of hiking through the forest, we stopped having fun. We stopped to rest and reconsider. Were we halfway done yet? Would it be closer to go back the way we came or to proceed? We looked out at the lake while slapping the mosquitoes landing on our arms and the ants on our legs. Three painted turtles were sunning themselves on a tree trunk. One by one, the turtles plopped into the water and swam away. We thought we would be able to see our cabins by now. Although we could see the point and the northeast corner of the lake, the cabins were not in view. We got up and kept going. Being a lake pioneer was hard work. Although we did not know it at the time, we had come to the spit of land that marked the beginning of Petey's Bay. Eventually we could see our cabins; four little white houses in a row with turquoise trim. One larger white cabin sat on a hill above the fish cleaning hut. East of the cabins but before the public access sat a turquoise trailer home. Stoney Point resort looked attractive from over here; safe and comfortable. The sight of it inspired us to keep going so we could be back there. We walked another half hour before stopping to finish our lunch. Danny had to go to the bathroom. For privacy he hiked uphill. The hill was shorter here and he went over the crest. He came back as mad as a hornet. "Right there!" he shouted at us pointing up the hill, "We were right there an hour ago!" Donny and I went up and looked. Sure enough, here was a spot we remembered sitting at a very long time ago and it was just a few feet away. How could that be? Walking the perimeter of the lake on the spit of land that formed Petey's Bay was the long way. We could have saved a lot of time, mosquito bites, and steps if we had known to just hike over this little hill. Such is the life of a lake pioneer. If we had walked around the lake before we would have known that. To be continued.
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