Summer meant school being out, and Silver Lake.
I always had a problem with school being out,
I'd miss my friends over the summer, that I didn't keep in touch with
There'd be too much Merv work to do in the garden, around the apartments
or working on the house
There'd be 4-H apple pie baking contests, which meant like 3-4 pies a day
being baked, until you couldn't stand the site of apple pie
(I don't eat it to this day)
until I could escape to basketball camp.
Camp Hough was on Silver Lake, really close to where we lived in
Western NY, but that didn't matter, for 6 days it was light-years away.
Apparently, the YMCA has changed the format now, it used to be
strictly a basketball camp for Week or so per summer.
Silver Lake was another interesting summer adventure, on the
one hand we had the Basketball Camp, which didn't have much to do
with the lake as we were on the courts all day, taking salt tablets to retain some water
from the sweat of the mid-day sun, but it was close enough to the lake,
that revelry at 6:00 am meant getting up out of uninsulated, dank
cabins in the frigid morning and if you were daring, doing the polar bear
plunge into the lake. No friggin thank you.
Merv, would also take me to fish for perch and bluegills on a regular basis, in
his version of relaxation outside of working on the apartments, the house or the cars
and his day job. We'd load up a little 14' aluminum with a 12 horse motor and
drop into the lake at the inlet (which happened to also be the outlet) end of the lake.
(On of the only lakes in America that has its inlet and outlet at the same end).
We'd fish all day, so bored, that I'd lay on the seat benches and cast the
double-hooked pole over my shoulder, behind me, into the water.
Then a thrilling, tiny tug, I'd yank my pole back out of the three foot water,
nearly slapping Merv with the two tiny perch, or blue-gills that were latched on to
both hooks! We'd keep everything, even though cleaning meant getting a sliver
of fish no bigger than your finger ... if we got home late, we'd throw the fish in
the freeser without cleaning them ... later I'd get them out and plant them
at the base of the corn rows. See I did pay attention to Indian farming lessons
in social studies class, and there was no damn way I was cleaning them!
One thing that summer meant, is we didn't have to go ice fishing on Silver Lake
I think we only went once or twice, we weren't Ice fisherman, and even at a very young age
I knew the perils of wind, ice and maybe falling through weren't worth the fish
we caught in the summer there.
I would beckon "Dad, do you really think the little fish are worth the effort?"
We didn't have a shed with heat, radios, or TV's in them like the seasoned Ice Fishing
Professionals ... we didn't even have a wind break!
I guess it was a little cool to auger through the ice (no we didn't have the Briggs and Stratton,
gas auger like the ice fishing pros either) ... but who wanted to be considered a pro
at ice fishing.
Looking back, I know it was just a way to get away from the wife and kids,
hang with your buddies and drink beer.
Guess what - its called a bar !
Here's a picture that could have been me,
heading for the car ... I'm friggin out of here.
m.