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O’Brien was a devilish youngster that was bound and determined to find out just how that honeycomb came to be in a jar of honey. Our Hoffman Estates Boys Club kids had purchased that jar of honey at the Orchard Market earlier that day. We had planned to use it on pancakes the following morning. But instead of curiosity getting the cat it got our pancakes in its place.

Once back at our rented cabin O’Brien began fiddling with the jar attempting to get the honeycomb out while leaving the honey quite untouched.  All his efforts got him where the jar falling to the floor in pieces.  Yes, O’Brien got his honeycomb somewhat intact but the only house guests we were in for that evening were ants, and not the two-legged variety mind you.

It took the efforts of the combined boys to get that honey off the floor and to kill our visiting ants before they overtook us all.  And, yes, the next morning the rest of the boys did get honey on their pancakes but it was store-bought honey.  O’Brien also got his honey but it came from the remains of his honeycomb plus some Honeycomb Cereal. 

With O’Brien’s luck he also received the prize in that box of Honeycomb Cereal but to this day he never revealed just what that prize was that he won.  Maybe it was an ant farm?  That would have been his just desserts!


Is this putting your best foot forward? As young Jon was taking a nap at the cabin we rented near Big Bass Lake, I caught this photograph. Jon was a member of the Hoffman Estates Boys Club and after one of our hikes he drifted asleep in one of the living room chairs. Within seconds he was out like a light and his foot gently crossed over the arm of the chair to provide him for room for his slumber.

He was just starting to relax after that hike and he drifted away while the rest of us were talking. Sometimes a picture DOES say a thousand words! To allow Jon his privacy the rest of us left the cabin and walked down to the Little Manistee River to cool our feet. Under out cabin bedroom was a barbeque area. I never felt comfortable using the barbeque grill there so we moved it in front of the cabin.

About an hour later Jon joined us as if he had never drifted off into sleep and said he was only resting his eyes. Chris said they had about an hours rest. Jon didn’t believe him until he saw the evidence on another boy’s watch. After a few laughs we barbequed up some hamburgers and had a great evening.

By the way, Jon put his best foot forward again by volunteering to clean up the barbeque grill that night.


What is life all about?” Seth wanted to know and I was NOT a walking encyclopedia! He asked more questions on this trip with the Salesian Boys Club than Carter has pills.  “Why does that spider carry its young on its back?”  Perhaps to avoid them having to face the dangers of hitch hiking? 

He even asked other kids questions.  “Why are you hanging your clothes on the line when its raining outside?”  It seemed on that trip that our clothesline was a combination washer and dryer.  It rained a great deal of the time.  Yet that did not hinder Seth from raining down continual questions on the whole group to the point of near insanity.

And, yes, he was the one that continually asked, “How much farther do we have to go?“, all the way up to our property from Columbus, Ohio.  The other boys wanted to leave him at a rest stop near Grand Rapids.  An inquisitive nature is one thing but Seth took it to extremes on this trip until one of the boys took him to task about it. 

But Seth seemed immune to the question put to him and brushed it off as if it were nothing.  On the next to the last day on the trip his questions ceased.  Why?  He lost his voice!  That lasted until we were halfway home and then the questions rolled out again.  One of the other boys asked the big question then-  “When do we get home, Dave?”


For those that say only blonde haired boys visited our lake, Jarrod would be the exception to that rule. Jarrod was the consummate hiker. He wore leather hiking boots, carried a compass, had a canteen always slung over his shoulder, and carried a pocket knife in his pocket.  Being a member of the Marion Boys Club, he took two trips to our property.  He always enjoyed our hikes down the Bloody Antler Trail the most.

Every so often he would mark the trail by bending a branch or putting a stack of sticks a certain way on the trail.  He told the other kids that if something ever happened to me, marking the trail would be necessary for them to get out of that forest. 

When we arrived at the Christmas tree section of that trail he would always take a few of the boys and set out to circle the area searching for other trails other than the one we were on.  Jarrod had leadership skills in hiking and was not shy to proclaim them. 

I think that he came to know the Bloody Antler Trail almost as good as I did.  He even relished our night-time hikes in that area.  I often wonder where Jarrod wound up in adulthood?  Maybe he’s now a guide with the forest service in another state? 


No, young Ken is not about to take a skinny dip for if you look closely his swimsuit is tan or light brown. His legs almost obscure it totally. A lot of the boys from the Marion YMCA were leaping off the sand dunes just off of M-116.

This seven mile stretch between Ludington and the Hamlin Dam is chock full of sand dunes on each side of M-116.  On the western side of the road is also Lake Michigan and the distance from road to lake is no more than fifty yards.  Thus the dunes are just a few feet from the lake. 

Ken’s dune, however, was just on the east side of M-116 which contains dunes and scrub forest seemingly for miles on end.  Going barefoot in that area is the norm.  Ken especially liked to find jump-off points and then take a flying leap.  He seemed almost tireless in his efforts to find such dunes and they were found in abundance.

After a fun time on the dunes the boys turned their attention to Lake Michigan for a refreshing swim before heading to a special lunch at the Ludington A & W.  Not a bad day!


I could never figure out why YMCA youngster, Adam, wanted to live-in a lean-to when we had much more comfortable tents especially with mosquito netting handy. Instead, he set about to make a lean-to close to the swamp behind our wooded beachfront. In fact it faced one of our regular tents that was the closest to that swamp.

Forall lhe work Adam put in on that lean-to, he only spent one night there. I don’t think mosquitos drove him out but the night air itself since the lean-to was not enclosed. Adam really didn’t give a reason for his one-night stand. Now he dd frequent that abode often during our stay in day time hours but never again at night.

He built it rather well as it was sturdy enough to be safe to live within.  And he kept reinforcing it all the time we were there but never slept in it but for that one night.  And he never provided any reason for his singular experience going astray.  Maybe he just wanted to make a statement that he could do it and that was enough for Adam. 

No other boy even thought of such a concept on any other trip to our property.  And the next time we were at our land the lean-to was gone.  Strange?


On most trips with various boys clubs we took the opportunity to go berry picking on our property for blueberries or blackberries and just off our property for strawberries.  We used the berries for toppings for pancakes or just for dessert after a hearty meal.  The problem with berry picking was that some boys put more berries in their mouth than their basket and Zack was the worst of the lot.

Zack was a member of the Hoffman Estates Boys Club and when we were picking strawberries off of our property he decided not to waste those strawberries on pancakes or dessert.  He instead opted to eat them as he gathered them.  The other boys did grab a few quick bites of this tasty fruit but not to the extent that Zack did.  After a good hour of gathering strawberries, Zack had only three in his basket compared to the other boys nearly full baskets.

He had his patterned sheepish grin on his face saying that he went a little overboard.  Yet when back at the campsite, he was bold enough to ask for his “share” in the other boys strawberries on his pancakes that night.  Now to be fair, when Zack gathered other berries his basket was also nearly full.  As for strawberries, well, that was another story.  Zack, the strawberry monster!


On a trip to our property, for the first time ever, we put up a hammock for the boys to relax on during their free time just a few feet behind the tents.  One of our boys was really challenged by that hammock.  Shaun, try as he would, could not get himself situated on that hammock for each and every time he tried, the hammock would toss him to the ground.

Each day Shaun would make at least two attempts to mount that hammock as the other boys successfully had done but he never made it.  Even when I once picked him up and placed him in that hammock, two seconds later he was on the ground in total frustration.  I think this is that hammock that he wrapped around himself for some measure of victory over that thing. 

Several of the boys offered him tips on how to balance his weight on the hammock but, for some reason, Shaun could only stay on that hammock for no more than a minute.  It was his personal bucking bronco that threw him every time he tried.  The old adage, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again” sure didn’t hold much truth for Shaun. 

I often wonder if Shaun, even as an adult, ever solved his hammock dilemma.   So, if you’re out there in the blogsphere reading this right now, leave us a comment and let us know if you ever found a way to lie down in a hammock.


On a trip to our property with the Marion YMCA a man approached us from behind ou wooded beachfront to talk with me.  He had a cottage directly behind our area.  He asked if his son could join us daily for activities on our land since he had four sisters and wasn’t having much fun that year.  The boy’s name was Jeff so we took him in as  guest camper for that week.

The stipulations were that he could only do things on our land meaning no off-site trips to Lake Michigan or the Pine River.  He also was to sleep with his family and be back at their cottage by seven every night.  That meant no midnight trip to the Haunted House.  Tha even excluded his going on a hike with us at night down the Bloody Antler Trail.  Mark, one of my charges said, “Well, he won’t be having too much fun with us then“.

Jeff took daytime hikes with us in our forest and swam with us on our beach.  In return for allowing Jeff to spend days with us, his father took two shifts with our kids on his pontoon boat around Big Bass Lake which is something our boys would not have experienced without having Jeff along with us.  We rarely ventured by boat to the north side of the lake.

All in all Jeff had a good time with the boys albeit a limited one what with our two off-site day trips.  I think what Jeff missed most was the Haunted House excursion after hearing all the talk about it the next day.  Still he had a  better time than he might have had with his sisters. 

Bug Boy Damon


Damon was a kid from the Marion YMCA that loved bugs as you can tell by his hitch hiker cricket pal.  Most of the boys did not care all that much for bugs but Damon examined every bug he could find.  At night he would even hang out by the campfire long after most of the boys had headed for bed and tried to locate one of the many kids that serenaded us to sleep each night.

Damon even was fascinated as to why spiders carry their young on their backs.  A few of the other boys could not understand Damon’s preoccupation with bugs.  The other boys only drew the line when Damon wanted to invite some of his friends into the tent for an overnight visit. 

Johnny almost brought down the tent when he felt something crawling on his leg under his blankets and I don’t think I care to mention what visitor that was that evening.  Needless to say Damon was not all that popular for the rest of that evening with the other kids in his tent. 

It takes all kinds of kids to make up a good camping trip and Damon’s specialty was never repeated by any other boy. 


This is the “gap” between the Haunted Island and Big Island at Big Bass Lake. The Haunted Island is to your left and in the 1970′s it was all forest except for the haunted house in the middle of that island. Big Island, on the other hand, is largely populated and has a bridge leading to it off of Big Bass Lake Road.

This “gap” was the northern route for speedboats operating around he Haunted Island. The western side of the island was the southbound route for those same boats. These two islands were located on the south side of the lake along with the unseen Grandma’s Hat which was the smallest island on the lake. It was just to the east of The Big Island.

The north side of the island had the other two islands those being Turtle Island and Four Winds Island, the latter of which was once owned by Camp Martin Johnson. Today houses are located on Four Winds, The Big Island, and Haunted Island. Turtle Island is owned by the Manistee National Forest.


Each and every boy on our Boys Club of America trips to our property on Big Bass Lake had a specialty all their own nd Rory’s just happened to be nature.  Since he was from the Marion YMCA it only seemed natural for a great many “Y’s” spilling from his mouth.  “Why do spiders carry their young on their back?” and so on.

Rory had a question for nearly every item of nature in our forest.  “Why do deer go to drink in your creek?”  One of the other boys mocked him saying, “Because they’re thirsty!”  I sometimes think Rory today is the master of some think tank.  He was very inquisitive about just about everything. 

He even asked why our wooded beachfront consisted of so much sand under the soil.  I just hope Rory retained some of the answers we provided him.  He’s one of the boys that I often think about as to what he is doing today.  Well, there’s a question that only Rory can answer wherever he is.


I think Rusty was the only red-haired boy who ever went to our property and he was a consummate hiker.  He couldn’t get enough of our forest and he must have hiked every conceivable trail on our land during our ten-day stay with the Marion YMCA. 

Rusty actually took notes as we hiked as to what trails went where.  He spent very little time in Big Bass Lake except to cool off briefly after hikes.  He was the only kid ever to bring hiking boots to our land as most kids opted for tennis shoes. 

He also enjoyed our off-site trips to Driftwood Valley and Beartrack as they both allowed him time to hike even more.  At those times, however, his note pad was not with him. 

Rusty also enjoyed our night hikes most of all be it on our property or off into the Manistee National Forest which was just across Big Bass Lake Road.  He rarely used his flashlight as he quickly learned how light actually robs your vision when hiking. 

Rusty also enjoyed his times at cooking more than any other chore especially in making the evening meal.  His cooking was pretty darn good too.  Rusty went up to our land twice and was a joy to have around.


On every trip to our property, each boy specialized in one area of expertise.  Most seemed to enjoy swimming or boating.  Some looked forward to off-property trips.  Mark, though, of the Marion YMCA enjoyed exploring our forest land.

I often call our property the family farm even though the forest acreage far exceeded tha of the farm land.  Mark loved going off the logging trail as he was more interested in making his own trails.  He explored everything from ferns to trees and was especially interested in the birch trees on our beach front. 

On our wooded beachfront we had two small ponds that were only filled in the spring and early summer.  He explored them for frogs and minnows that might still be around.  He spent a lot of time at the Pointe and would be found swinging in an old tire we had attached to a tree. 

His favorite chore, of all things, was chopping wood for the campfires.  He was quite skilled at using the hatchet to the point where he designed some unique artistic designs starting off with a log.  Where other boys would spend their free time fishing or swimming, Mark designed various wood blocks for uses such as a chair for himself during campfires. 

It was a real joy to have Mark along for that particular trip.


Tom went to our Michigan property with the Marion YMCA and was probably the only boy on any of our trips that loved to climb trees.  And at our large forest he found himself a tree lovers paradise!  His favorite were those on our wooded beachfront. 

He found  one particular tree not twenty yards from the Pointe that became his favorite and he even began a tree house.  He never finished that project because he was always finding trees that were a greater challenge to him. 

He recruited another youngster by the name of Jay to go with him in the general area.  He found some excellent trees to climb just to the east of Noreika Road off the pathway to our wooded beachfront.  By themselves that was about the boundary that I had placed on the boys when they went off by themselves.  That area was in close proximity to where I parked my car just off Noreika Road. 

Tom never once injured himself while climbing trees.  I believe even some squirrels envied him his climbing talents.  And that is how Tom earned the nickname “Tarzan”.  I often wonder if he considered Jay to be “Cheetah”?


I think that Tyler spent 80% of his time during the Salesian Boys Club camping trip to our property in his swimming suit. Perhaps one of the reasons why is that it rained nearly every day and he had the foresight to dress appropriately. He always said that he wanted to be ready for any swimming activity as that was his favorite time of the day be it at Big Bass Lake or on off-property trips to either Lake Michigan or the Little Manistee River.

He also wore his suit for any boating activity at Big Bass Lake.  He had brought along two sets of swimming trunks and some of the boys said he even slept in them.  One of the boys thought he was always dressed this way was to get a good tan but since the sun only came out a few times on that trip, that put that idea to rest.

Tyler even moved around the campsite in his swimming suit.  Now he did change to jeans and tennis shoes for hiking but that is about the only time we observed him fully dressed.  Around our wooded beachfront he always looked like he does here.  He must have been born in either California or Florida?  The two colors he always wore were red and blue making me think that he was very patriotic. 

Baby Spiders


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After a night hike in our forest, the boys piled out onto Noreika Road and their flashlights began scanning the road. In the forest I only let them use their flashlights in the event of an emergency as lights tend to rob them of their night vision.

Just then a member of the Marion Boys Club caught an object in his beam. As I approached the youngster, I noticed a sense of awe and wonderment in his bulging eyes. I glanced down and saw a mother spider in full view with its babies on its back. Soon all the beams were directed at that spider and try as she might she just could not avoid the spotlight.

After a few moments the boys moved on but they were still talking about that incident all the way back to camp and even as they got ready for bed. In the morning it had passed.

But his sense of awe and wonderment will continue on in this new series that will appear every now and again this year. What will demand its attention next time?


In the mid 1980′s my Aunt Beth had informed me that Julie Benish and her son were visiting Agnes Benish across the road so I in turn visited them. Julie allowed me to take Danny on a short hike and then a motor boat ride on Big Bass Lake.

We began with a short hike on the sandy road hilly portion of the Bloody Antler Trail just off Big Bass Lake Road.  Then after a brief rest at our cottage I took Danny on a tour of Big Bass Lake in our motorboat.  We headed out around the eastern side of the Haunted Island and proceeded north through the narrows.  But before we had arrived at either Four Winds or Turtle Island, Danny began shivering and seemed to be catching a cold.  So I made a U-turn and headed back through the narrows and then south on the western side of Haunted Island back to our dock.

I had given Danny my light jacket which covered him like a blanket.  nce back at our dock I escorted him back to the Benish farm and he was near exhausted so he must have been coming down with something.  He was a most cordial young man but rather quiet.  He seemed disappointed that our motorboat ride was short but his health took precedent. 

It was good meeting Julie’s son that day and also to briefly speak with Julie herself.


T.J. had that Chuck Connors look after he fired off his rifle in the opening credits of The Rifleman. If you doubt that, just look at the eyes of T.J. and Connors, if you can remember back that far.

As for TJ himself he was at home in the water. He loved swimming either in Big Bass Lake or Lake Michigan.  And, I never foun out what his initials meant.  Even his best friends did not seem to know.  His parents must have provided him a most unusual first name. 

But what made TJ stand out most was that Chuck Connors look.  Don’t you think?


In the early 1980′s I spent my vacation on our wooded beachfront alone for a change.  I had just erected my tent and as I turned around, there was Marty.  He was visiting one of the families adjacent to our property and he asked if he could help me.  He began cycling ferns as I dug the fire pit that I would be using on that trip for cooking.

For my entire five days camping Marty was around each day.  I met his family and they asked if he could spend two overnights with me.  So he swam with me in Big Bass Lake and we took hikes together in our forest.  It was far different from my trips with various boys clubs as this was the only youngster with me. 

He turned out to be a pretty fair cook and he enjoyed telling ghost stories around the campfire with me.  He took turns cooking with me and we even took one sidetrip to the Pine River for an afternoon.  On my last night there, he came down from his cottage and sat around the campfire with me just for the heck of it (which is what he said). 

He helped me break my camp and his mother came down and said Marty really enjoyed his camping experience with me.  It turned out that my aunt suggested that he get out of his family reunion which was largely made up of adults and spend some time with me. 

What I thought was going to be a solo camping experience turned out even better than I thought as Marty was not only helpful around camp but was good company.  I think Marty had a much better time with me than h would have had with his reunion.

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