Nevada County Picayune and Gurdon Times Newspaper Archive

Wendy's World - A little dirt almost never hurst

Having been to White Oak Lake a couple of weeks ago - on official business - I was reminded of how much fun my family has had on lakes and in woods around the region over the years. At White Oak, I found myself wishing I had a bag of marshmallows and a stick. And a tent. And a skillet and some potatoes.

We camped at White Oak a few times when I was a kid. Once in particular, it was still very early in the season and we had to turn the heat on in our camper. Thats when we discovered that the person in the top bunk would roast before those on the lower beds got warm.

Usually, we camped at the lakes that allowed recreational boating. I learned to water ski behind a flat-bottom fishing boat with a 20 horse power motor. Later, my kids learned behind that same boat, new motor. My youngest was so small that I had to be in the water with her to help her hold up the skis. Id help her get started, turn loose and then swim to where she fell.

I swam a lot that summer.

When my girls were little, we camped often - most of the time with my parents. It offered something we dont have time for today - family time to play games, goof off and learn about each other.

Several summers, my oldest daughter celebrated her birthday at the lake. Wed always have a cake and if we were camped at our favorite spot on Lake Greeson, someone would run to Ernies store and buy ice cream. Everyone was encouraged to have all the ice cream they wanted, because it wouldnt keep more than a half hour in the summer heat. I remember once that the birthday girl sat herself down on a picnic table bench with the rest of the ice cream and created some impressive art.

My younger daughter was a picky little thing about her food. Shed happily roll around in the mud, but when it came time to eat she was worried that her food might have a fleck of ash on it.

Roasted wieners and marshmallows were unacceptable. Even a can of pork-and-beans - a lake favorite of my family - was suspect. I tried to tell her that whatever dirt was ingested at the lake was perfectly acceptable.

She didnt buy it.

After dark, she became an eating machine.

Does this have ashes on it? shed ask.

Id peer at it carefully in the dark.

Nope.

And shed immediately eat it all.

Those were the days. Not only was my family having fun, my daughters still believed in me.

Today, our camping trips are rare. Lifes busy and finding the time and energy to get away is difficult. Watching families sharing fishing time and kicking back on the lake bank reminded me what Im missing. Maybe its time for a weekend at one of our favorite spots.