Wagner Lake Adventures

Wagner Lake just outside Marion, Indiana, was the host for a week long camping experience for the Marion Boys Club each summer.  Being used to being able to see the bottom at Big Bass Lake in Michigan at even ten feet or more, it was hard to get used to one’s foot disappearing in Wagner Lake at the depth of two feet! 

Yet the camp had some marvelous hiking trails and even a dam that faced Indiana 9.  The lake also had a channel at the north end that was similar to what one might find in the Florida Everglades.  While at camp the kids had many contests including scavenger hunts, jump the pit contest (filled with mud), and rowing races.  The jump the pit contest was on the shoreline of Wagner Lake and I never was sure as to which was the dirtiest, the pit or the lake itself?

Often times we would take boat excursions into the channel at Wagner Lake after dark which the boys thought was real spooky.  That channel was almost impossible to enter after a hard rain as those waters emptied into the lake and the current into the channel was near impossible to try and get into it. 

I don’t think that I ever saw clear water at Wagner Lake on any of our visits there as the water was always murky brown.  Still the boys enjoyed their time there and that was the bottom line.

How About a Leisurely Pontoon Boat Ride on Big Bass Lake?

To show his appreciation for helping him put in his dock one summer, Albert Matson took the members of the Marion Boys Club on a tour around Big Bass Lake.  They saw areas of the lake they rarely had viewed as their usage of the lake was largely of the southwest and southeast portion of the lake. 

We traveled through the “narrows” and past an ever active Camp Martin Johnson as the boys watched the waterfront swimmers have a great time.  They had always wondered where those 6am bugle calls came from and now they knew! 

We then circled both Four Winds and Turtle Islands and then proceeded to the area where the channel between Big and Little Bass Lake was located.  From there Al took us to the extreme northern section of Big Bass Lake and then back to his pier.

The boys had a great time on the tour and thus their labors for putting in his dock that early summer day was truly rewarded.

When Deer Tracks Looked Like Bear Tracks

There is a section of the Manistee National Forest not far off our land called “Bear Swamp”. There was a time when a group of kids on a camping trip poured out of a darkened forest into a Christmas tree farm just outside the borders of Bear Swamp. Most of the boys were between the ages of 11-13 but one 18 year old was with us.

As we approached a towering evergreen the kids noticed tracks in the dirt. They were easily identified as deer tracks but to give the kids a thrill I said they were bear tracks. Their eyes brightened and got larger as they bristled with excitement. I looked in the direction of Bear Swamp saying, “That’s where he’s headed, toward his swamp!” I suggested we track him.

All of the kids couldn’t wait to get started except for the 18 year old who said, “Norris, you’re crazy!” It was at that point that I told them all that the tracks they thought were bear tracks were simply deer tracks. But that’s not where the story ends!

A scant second later a large buck bolted from behind the evergreen tree and we all hit the ground as it was so unexpected. The eighteen year old though bolted for the nearest tree to climb and moments later we all had a good laugh about the whole episode and it was the talk of the trip back home after our camping trip was over. In fact, I’d reckon to say that they still talk about those “bear tracks” to their kids. It was the big one that got away. You know, I thought that was only said about fish?

Our Quagmire Swamp

Just behind our wooded beachfront on our property was a quagmire swamp. It was quite close in proximity to our second campfire pit. It ran all along the backside of our camping area and was one of the primary reasons we each year had a fern smoke fire to rid that area of mosquitoes.

Some of the kids were real curious about that swamp. Quagmire takes a person down slowly. Unlike quicksand, which one can actually swim in, the same does not hold true for quagmire as the consistency is too thick. Keith, in particular, was real dubious about it. He once asked if he could wade in but I told him what if he got in and started to sink? He said throw me a rope and I said what if the rope broke? That was the end of that conversation.

Another time on a YMCA trip to our property, another supervisor was not watching the kids too closely on a hike as they were scattered about and one boy actually stepped nto a quagmire swamp. It was a small area and he was pulled out, but the suction took his shoes and socks, plus his pants. He was coated with thick black mud. By the way, the only thing that really works taking the aroma off is to wash with tomato juice.

We had several quagmire swamps on our property and the boys were warned about them. Our errie photograph above is the impression I wanted to leave on the boys about the dangers of those quagmire swamps.

A Late Winter Trip to Big Bass Lake for The Marion Boys Club

The kids of the Marion Boys Club took the opportunity over an early spring break to visit Big Bass Lake in what amounted to the end of winter. We took as our base of operation the resort on Seaman’s Lake a mere mile from Big Bass Lake. Winter was still upon the area as a light coat of snow covered the ground and Seaman Lake was still iced over but only with a thin coat. I say that because in about two feet of water it caved in under the weight of both Calvin Little and Kevin Hansel. Only their feet got wet but both were frozen as they entered the cottage to change clothes and shoes.

Fortunately the cottage was just up a hill from where they went in. And despite warnings to the contrary about the dangers of ice told them continuously on the way there, they just had to experiment. They wrapped themselves in two Indian blankets that kept them quite warm to the point that they didn’t want to leave them for over an hour.

Our second day there saw the temperature rise into the low 50’s and the snow cover was gone by mid-day. I took the boys over to our property on Big Bass Lake and I parked the car just off Noreika Road where we usually parked for summer trips. To both the boys and my surprise, the area we usually camped at was under two feet of water! The lake extended all the way to the swamp behind our camping area.

So we opted instead to take a hike on the logging trail all the way to Matson Road. The kids marveled at how “naked” the woods appeared without leaves and how far they could actually see across our property. We ate our lunch near the creek by the phone lines before heading back to the car. Our next stop was at the Big Bass Lake store where the kids purchased some snacks for the night ahead.

We were only at the area for four days over a brief school break. On this trip we took no night hikes as the weather was still kind of brisk and the nightly wind went right through you. The next to last day there we took a trip to Driftwood Valley and the boys were taken aback as to just how desolate that area was at this time of year. There was no talk about wading in the Little Manistee River that day as the temperature was only in the mid 40’s with a stiff wind.

All in all the boys really enjoyed the trip and especially the nights in our heated cottage. Instead of campfires we rallied around the old heat burning stove. Graham crackers with strawberry jelly really hit the spot on those nights. The following day we left the resort for home and the boys looked forward to our summer trips there where tents would be the order of the day at Big Bass Lake.

Kids of Big Bass Lake- Jarrod

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? 

The Marion Boys Club’s Walt Disney Revue

There were seven dwarfs on the stage at Jones Junior High in Marion, Indiana, and not one of those dwarf’s could adequately see where they were going which added to their hilarious routine. In the Marion Boys Club’s Walt Disney Revue they kept bumping into each other. Their huge paper Mache heads had only little slits for the eyes so there had to be spotters at the edge of the stage to make sure those boys would not fall over on their heads.

Andy Weller’s slim feet looked ever so dainty in his patent leather strap shoes with his white gown all decked out as Mary Poppin’s. There was even word that a male member of the audience asked him for a date after the program. And, Keith Hansel’s big blue eyes bulged as he was raised on wires into the air dressed as Peter Pan. I think he was wondering if he had flight insurance.

All this was done so the Marion Boys Club could raise funds to travel to Washington DC for the Boys Clubs of America National Convention. These boys were part of the Marion Boys Club singers which numbered about thirty boys. In Washington they even sang in Congress which at the time had only allowed The Beatles that honor. Not bad company to be in.

Their Walt Disney Revue was a smashing success as the boys worked ever so hard on their routines. Dale Knaur was the director of the singers and he also worked long hours to achieve their success. Yet in Washington, without all their elaborate costumes, it wasn’t quite as funny as it could have been with them.

The Singers even made a record of their music and I wonder if that record still exists today anywhere?

As Wild Leaves Fly on the Haunted Island

The Marion Boys Club went to our property once in the early fall in the month of October. It was two weeks prior to hunting season so the kids got to hike around our property when the trees were almost in full color.  We stayed at a cabin on the Little Manistee River as the nights were too cold to be tent camping.

One evening we went to our property and used a rowboat to get to Haunted Island.  The night saw some whitecaps on Big Bass Lake as the wind was whipping them up.  It was a bouncy ride out to the island.  Once there the boys moved up the little hill and proceeded to the Haunted House.

The trees were swaying in the wind and many-colored leaves were flying around the opening where the Haunted House stood.  Yes, it was a most spooky evening and the weather was going to provide the boys with all the scare elements it could.  As the boys approached the house several leaves shot out one of the window frames and the kids hit the ground fast. 

The boys thought they were spooks.  I asked if they wanted to visit the mounds area north of the house and they all shook their heads to the negative as that was the legendary home of the bonepickers.  So after about a half-hour of leaves being scattered about by the wind, and the boys thinking there was something supernatural about all that, we headed back to the boat.

Later that night back at the cabin the boys reflected on their windy experience at Haunted Island.  To a boy they all said that those leaves were possessed in the way they flew about the house.  Possessed leaves?  Now, that’s a new one even to me!  I wonder if they would think that about the leaves around the cabin?

The Marion Boys Club at Shanty Falls

The boys of the Marion Boys Club had long awaited their trip to Shanty Falls just outside Wabash. Unfortunately the time that the day had arrived it had followed a period of rain for nearly three days. Thus the field we needed to cross to get to Shanty Creek was quite muddy. I suggested to the boys that NO new tennis shoes be worn. In fact, if they had them, hiking boots were to be the order of the day.

The field must have had good drainage as it was not nearly as muddy as I had thought it to be. Still there were areas of quite thick mud but we finally managed to cross that field with not much damage to anyone’s footwear. As we entered the forest above Shanty Falls we heard a torrent of water and I was surprised to find Shanty Creek now a river. It was over its banks a good twenty yards so we had no choice but to follow the creek on shore.

The great thing about Shanty Creek was its rock bottom for nearly a mile before one would arrive at the actual falls. Yet as we walked what is usually about six inches deep was now several feet that much. In fact, as the group approached the area of the falls we had to take a slight detour around the large formation of rock that hangs over the falls.

We had our lunch in the large indention in the cliffs overlooking the falls. The falls were gushing forth water as I had never seen before with a large whirlpool at the bottom. The depth of the creek made it impossible to journey across to get to the mile long ridge of granite walls with caves that lay on the other side of that creek. So the boys had to be content to just explore the large indention that we had lunch at. It was a huge disappointment to the boys yet they knew they would return again so they made the best of the day.

One thing they were not denied and that was how glorious Shanty Falls looked when full of three days of water from all that rain. The boys took many pictures that day of the falls from various angles and some even wanted to get photographs of the whirlpool. Thus they had a great day in the events which they could control. The granite cliffs would have to wait for another day.

Fishing Advice From A Perch

This is the lake, Big Bass Lake near Irons, Michigan.  I was working the day shift and my partner was Billy Bass.  My name is Paul Perch and my wife’s name is Madge. 

The churning waters above were created by all those morons in those big boats.  They create more wakes than any funeral home in Michigan.  What’s that?  Oh, some kids that have been camping nearby are trying their luck to tempt me again.  They’ll have to do better than worms.  Yes, they may contain protein but I prefer to get my protein from peanut butter on a hook.  Or maybe even cheese if I’m lucky.  To get cheese you have to live in a Wisconsin lake. 

You know what my eyes take in underwater is better than any television set.  One of those kids has stuck their foot into the water again.  I thought there was a law against pollution?  Those little toes make for very tasty appetizers if you know what I mean.  But if either Billy Bass or I try that those humans let out a blood curdling scream along with a lot of profanity.  And my ears are sensitive to that sort of thing.

Kids don’t have a lot of patience for fishing thank Neptune’s Trident. But if  can just sneak a nibble or two of that peanut butter without getting caught its worth the risk.  Hmm.  Good stuff!  Oh, by the way, the names were not mentioned of those kids to protect their innocence.  Now where have I heard that before?

The Farm Where Keith and Kevin Hansel Lived

This is the Hansel farm in rural Grant County, Indiana, near the city of Marion where Keith and Kevin Hansel grew up. When I first met them they lived on the south side of Marion and were members of the Marion Boys Club and part of the Marion Boys Club Singers. That group not only made a record but also attended the National Boys Club of America Conference in Washington D.C. and sang in Congress.

Keith was probably the best kid I ever worked with and he and his brother Kevin went on more trips to Michigan than any other kids. I taught Keith to play golf and he became quite good at it. One of the first times I ever visited Keith at his new home on the farm, I was going to take him and Kevin to a football game. As I rounded a corner by the barn, I saw Keith with his arm extended in a pig which I thought was rather strange until Kevin informed me that Keith was bringing a reluctant baby pig into the world.

Living on a farm gave the Hansel boys an undue advantage on our camping trips to Michigan as they were accustomed to hard work and outdoor living. The farm was located just south of Indiana 18 about halfway between Marion and I-69. As I understand it, both Hansel boys are again living on that same farm today. Their younger brothers are Mark, Mitch, and Matt.

Keith was also an outstanding participant in the Educational programs at the Marion Boys Club and did great in quiz bowl competition. At the time I was the Educational Director of that club and employed by the Marion Public Library. His and his brother’s foundation though was through this very farm that he was raised up at and his parents did an outstanding job with their boys.

The Overnight at Haunted Island

On one of our camping trips to our property in Michigan, two of our older members from the Marion Boys Club sought permission to spend an overnight at the Haunted Island. That was before we got to the Big Bass Lake area as they kind of laughed about it on the way up to Michigan. But when they first laid eyes on it as we were bringing the tents down to our wooded beachfront, their bravado weakened a bit.

Our younger members urged them on because of all their bragging and for a time their bravado returned. That was until the first sunset had vanished from the sky and there the island stood in the lake, drapped in darkness and very foreboding. As I put a tent into the boat, one of the older kids began rethinking his boasting. “How about in a few days. There’s no rush”, he said. The other older member echoed those vey thoughts.

But each night as it came time to shove off for the island, another excuse was forthcoming. So it was until the final night of our stay there when push came to shove as the younger members began heckling them about their so called bravery. But the farthest we ever got was about five rows away from our campsite. On another night they had accompanied us to the full camps visit to the Haunted Island which left a “haunting” impression on each older member. Thus, that overnight never came to be and they took a lot of ribbing from the younger members all the way back to Marion.

An overnight at the Haunted Island is easier ssid then done.

Rowboat Races on Big Bass Lake

One of the funnies thing the Marion Boys Club kids did was their tag team rowboat races. The boys all knew how to row in a straight line at least somewhat. But docking and shoving off was really something to see. Once Chris came in so hard that when he hit the sand he fell into the drink. Or the time Calvin shoved his rowboat out perfectly with one exception and that was that he forgot to get in.

Making the turn at the Pointe was also worth a second or even a third look as the boys sometimes went around in circles before they headed back onto the straight and narrow course.  Their rowing technique was not quite perfected either as when their oars hit the water they largely splashed themselves into of digging in deeply.  They got themselves more wet than they did when they swam.

I wish I had taken home movies of those rowboat races as they would make the best laugh effects for any television show.  Bow and then you would have a boy who listened perfectly to instruction and his rowboat maneuvers were a thing of beauty but those were the exceptions.  One boy even flipped his boat on the take off and thus his exit was by submarine.  Even so the tag team race was one event on our trips that I most looked forward to each and every time they performed it.  And what a performance it was!

Locating Lost Lake on Noreika Land

The Maron Boys Club was the only boys club that ever explored “Lost Lake” on our property.  It was located about fifty yards past our old barn and was rather large, especially in the spring time.  Due to the recent melting of the winter snowfall plus the heavy spring rains, this area became a lake for a very short time. 

By the time most of our boys club trips had arrived on our property, Lost Lake was regulated to a big marsh.  It was surrounded by a hillside so was hard to find in most cases unless you were looking for it.  The Marion kids checked out all sides of that hillside looking for just about anything but they never found the actual lake; Only the swamp which they had a hard time believing that it was ever a lake. 

I recall my dad telling me of this lake on our property often but without providing me with an exact location when all the time it was right there before my eyes just past our barn.  I also never saw it as a lake.  I must confess that you could always make out some sort of water line but the tall grasses made it appear as if it were a marsh. 

Oh, well,  just one more intriging thing about our former property.  I wonder what it looks like today?

Last Twenty Yards to Haunted Island

There is something aboutHaunted Island that no boy ever truly knows until they are within twenty yards of its coastline at midnight on any given trip.  On this trip the Marion Boys Club was making its way to the rickety pier in the center of the island as darkness draped them fully by the approaching tree line.  Each boy’s eyes became almost twice their normal size and their mouths became dry.  All the speculation about this midnight excursion was over and now they were about to experienceHauntedIslandfor the first time.

As we docked the boys apprehension grew.  They climbed out of the boat, one at a time, and mounted the small hill that led to a path.  In single file, for that is all that pathway would allow, we walked until we came to a clearing and there it was- The Haunted House surrounded by huge pine trees.  The boy’s eyes scanned each and every inch of that house as we approached it slowly.  Just then a loon cried out and the boys drew very close to me.

I told them the story of how this island came to be made known as being haunted.  Of the couple that once lived there and of the time the husband left the wife for food.  She could not swim a lick and when he came back he could not find any trace of her whatsoever.  Authorities checked the lake and could not find her at all.

The legend is that she still walks the island every night searching for her husband and periodically cries out in anguish for him.  I asked the boys if they wanted to spend the night within the house and to a boy they all shook their heads “no” in unison.  This is the trip where once that story was told that a piece of cardboard sailed out one of the window frames being carried by the wind.  The boys scattered faster than a speeding bullet. 

The Haunted  Island and house is something that the boys would never forget as that is always the single most important time for any of them on any trip.  It is widely talked about once home and kids anticipate that part of the trip north more than anything else.  That is, until they are within twenty yards of the island at midnight.

Shaun’s Hammock Misadventures

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.

The “Keith” Plunge

Our trips to Big Bass Lake were plenty of fun as young Keith can attest to as he is about to take the “Keith Plunge”. Water fun was always the highlight in our trip to the family farm beach. Our tents were placed within twenty to thirty feet of Big Bass Lake making swimming rather easy. The kids would leave the tents and almost immediately have their feet cushioned on soft moss that led to the beach.

Be they rafts or overturned metal rowboats diving into the lake was always fun. Some created their own dives while others settled in for big cannonballs. Big beach balls were used as floating devices or for a quick game of keep-a-way. Inner tubes were also utilized for floating comfort. There were two primary areas for swimming. One was right near the tents while the other was about fifty yards down shore at our pointe. The pointe was directly across from the Haunted Island.

The kids enjoyed the beach even more than Lake Michigan since it was so accessible to them. After day time hikes they often went swimming to cool off. Some bathtimes were held at the pointe offering a different venue for the boys. However the pointe was more accessible to the public with various speedboats using that area as the route for heading around the Haunted Island. Discretion always proved to be the better half of valor as bathtimes had to be either at early dawn or late dusk.

Our Forest Past The Big Swamp

On a trip to our property with the Marion Boys Club a surprising consensus took place on a hike down our logging trail. Most of our hikes terminated where our big swamp near the phone lines was located. At least on the logging trail. You see that trail continued onward all the way to Big Bass Lake Road but was rarely hiked by any of the clubs that came to our land.

Instead we usually took a smaller trail along our creek that led to Matson Road.  Yet on this particular trip we went straight forward past the wide expanse by the phone lines nd continued on the logging trail.  Almost immediately the forest thickens and another large swamp is found on the left side of the trail.  The boys on this trip thought this stretch of the logging trail was even more spooky than the Haunted Island. 

The difference was that our largest swamp is located in open spaces whereas this latest swamp is enshrouded by dense trees.  The trail itself curves around this swamp until Big Bass Lake Road is reached.  And, in this area of our hike, the Marion Boys Club kids were spooked by a deer that bolted out from the forest causing them all to hit the ground because it was so unexpected. 

The boys requested that this part of our land not be revisited again.  It was not easily accessible because there were some obstructions in front of this part of the trail that caused us to make a slight detour to get around them.    I guess once was enough for that dark forested portion of our land.

Night Monsters in Big Bass Lake

First night imagination was great on any camping trip and with the Marion Boys Club it was no exception. The imagination starts to flare up after the evening campfire as the embers provide little light. Now and then the boys would hear sounds coming from Big Bass Lake that they could not identify. Add to that, the evening campfire spoke of a monster lurking beneath the darkness of the waters.

Then every sound the boys heard was amplified according to each of their vivid imaginations.  Calvin Little heard what he thought was a splash in the water so he headed right for his tent.  One boy was sitting on the portable potty and a nut fell on his head and he thought the sky was falling. 

Then there was Kenny Huffman who thought he saw something surfacing out in Big Bass Lake while he was soaking his feet in the lake.  He quickly withdrew to his tent.  I often wondered how the boys could think that a canvas tent would protect them from their imagined monsters?  Even the croak of a frog sent boys scattering in every direction in the thick darkness. 

Of course, when offered, no one wanted to go rowing that evening.  I sometimes wondered what those frogs, squirrels, and other living creatures thought about how those great big boys were so frightened by them?  I think I know now what creature comforts means.  Or to be a boy again with all that imagination!

The Tree Farm on The Bloody Antler Trail

For the longest time I thought that our boys club outings at night on the Bloody Antler Trail were heading due north to the tree farm, but now I find out it was due west. I looked at an aerial map only just recently to the north and could just not find that tree farm.

I remember that it was near to a dirt road so as I scanned that aerial map, I found it due west and I have it here by way of an aerial photo. The red line in one picture shows you the line our boys club outings took. Where we parked our car on those trips, it was just off the Bloody Antler Trail on a grassy path.

For a time on each side of the road there was a swamp. After a time the trail literally emptied into an open tree farm. I hope these pictures helps clarify where our journies took us.

These trips always started out at 10pm just as darkness was settling down in mid summer. As we reached the tree farm for a moment the kids mouths opened wide as above them they could see literally every star in the sky. That was the first time that they saw that many stars as whatever city they lived in that sight was blocked off due to their city lighting system.

From our wooded beach to the tree farm was about five miles and as you can see it is within the Manistee National Forest which is one vast forest extending some 110 miles north to south and about 60 miles east to west. From the aerial picture you can observe how dense that forest is and there are bears here as on one trip we encountered one following us parallel on the trail.

I had heard it following us and I knew it wasn’t a deer due to the noise the kids were making. About 70 yards ahead of us a dark figure emerged from the forest on the trail ahead of us. The kids closed ranks with me and one of them shined their emergency flashlight right in the bears face. He growled and I told all the kids to turn their flashlights on and begin shouting. The bear retreated into the forest and we continued on toward the car post haste. That was our only bear encounter in that area on all our trips down the Bloody Antler Trail.

Approaching Haunted Island from the Southwest

Once I had taken members from the Marion Boys Club on a hike from our wooded beachfront to our granary so that we could get some extra tent stakes. But unknown to them, that was not my only intent.  At that time we were also to pick up a second rowboat that was docked at my family pier just below our cottage.

As we shoved away from that docking area, the two boys that were with me observed the Haunted Island from a different perspective as we were slightly southwest of that island.  As we came along aside it, the boys took notice of the area that we would be landing at on the central part of that island.  I had moved in close enough for them to observe the rickety pier and the small hill that led to a path just above it. 

Of corse we would be arriving at that location at midnight instead of late morning but at least Andrew and Calvin had a chance to check it out for themselves in broad daylight first.  In fact, broad daylight would have been more than enough for Calvin as it were as he was VERY superstitious.  I reassured him that during the daylight he would not have to contend with ghosts but for some reason that did nothing to change his apprehensions?

Even so, it was a taste of things to come.  I only wish I could share with you what Calvin’s eyes looked like at that time. 

Firepit Cooking

On our camping trips to our property all our meals came by way of one of two firepits. Two holes were dug about two to three feet deep and then two as close to identical logs were balanced over each pit to hold the various frying pans we utilized. Firepit fires are far better than surface fires and keep the heat of the fire largely confined to the firepit itself.

If we had two courses each was cooked at the separate firepits to double the ease of preparing the meal. The kids enjoyed that concept. One pit was close in to our actual camping area while the other was on the fringe of our campsite somewhat away from everything else. From macaroni and cheese to hot dogs with meat, our meals came right out of those great firepits. Many a marshmellow were cooked there as well but usually at the fringe firepit.

A good ash base was also built up for when I chose to cook in the ashes be it a baked potato or foil burgers. The two overhanging logs had to be continually checked for if they burned through our meal would end up in the pit too. Usually two to three sets were used over the course of one camping trip.

Stange to say but the cookers on our camp work schedule was the favorite one for the kids far exceeding clean-up or wood gathering and fire starting. If you’re camping out try firepits for the maximum in safety.

Swimming at The Pointe

Swimming at our Pointe, which was about sixty yards from our main beach, was often done either early or late in the day. That was due to the close proximity speedboats came to that area in making their run southward past the Haunted Island. The Marion Boys Club kids liked to just sit in the shallow water splashing each other to relax. Jay Davis particularly liked this spot because the Pointe beach was had a sandier bottom than even our main beach.

Swimming races were often conducted between the two beaches as were boat races. The depth of the water here was about four to five feet deep.

During the day the Pointe was often used for fishing and Ricky Bradshaw thought this was the best place to catch perch. The boys wandered into the shallow water rather than fishing off the shoreline. Aside from fishing and swimming, the Pointe also had a tire attached to a tree making for a great swing. And, at times, an older boys tent was placed at this location.

Thus our Pointe always saw plenty of activity during all our camping trips to our land.

Camp Martin Johnson Water Skiing

Every so often the CMJ speedboat would come cruising by with water skiiers in tow past our wooded beachfront in the 1970′s. It was usually our first experience with them in an afternoon before their recorded bugle call would wake us up the next morning. The odd thing was that most of the campers at CMJ went to bed before 10pm and that is largely when our evening activities began on our boys club trips to our property. So their morning bugle call was a tad early for us.

Our campers largely slept in to about 9:30 am. Our kids really thought that bugler was real and so did I. I only just recently found out that was a recorded bugle call. One of our kids thought so too as he said, “That guy is just too good as he never misses a note!”

Each day we would spot the camp speedboat carrying some skiers behind it going ever so fast over the cool blue waters of Big Bass Lake. But our kids knew there was another camp on the other side of the lake. Our camping seasons were much shorter than there’s as the longest trip our boys club ever took to our property was ten days with the majority of them being a week. A couple of years there were two separate weeks within one summer but those largely came with the Marion Boys Club.

Fishing at Big Bass Lake

When our boys club kids were at our property they spent a fairly good amount of time fishing. However, you’d have thought they would have caught some bass. Most of the time perch or blue gill were taken in by their hooks. Not only did they not catch any big bass but nary a little bass either. One of the kids asked, “How come they didn’t call this Perch Lake?”

Truth to tell, most of the boys probably couldn’t tell a bass from a perch, much less a blue gill. Being from Indiana they could tell you what a catfish might be but that was about it. Yet even though they were disappointed at not catching any bass, those perch and blue gills sure went down their gullets just as fast. I thought perch were right tasty fish myself.

Only a few of the boys fished but everyone reaped the rewards of those efforts. However those that didn’t fish got to do the dishes that evening so they achieved their just desserts, don’t you think?