It is amazing how perspective changes. In the early years, the camp was held at Lake McClure which according to internet sources is now called "McClure's Lake".. Maybe that was the name back then, but we called it Lake McClure. I can remember packing up and making that long drive to the wilderness where my folks dropped me (and later my sister and me) off for what seemed to be the whole summer in the early days. Not only was the perspective of time off a bit, but the trip also was not quite the trek I had imagined. As I found out after I grew up, maybe at 16 or 17) it was apparently all of about 6-8 miles from home. See the Google Earth image below with the path traced in yellow. We lived about 3 miles north east of Silver Lake and Lake McClure is a bit further to the northwest. Speaking of Lakes, it still seems strange to me that most kids today, especially around where we live now only think of swimming in "Cement Ponds" as Jethro called them on Beverly Hillbillies. Kosciusko County, Indiana boasted of 97 lakes and I think we swam in most of them. There was nothing more refreshing after a hard day of working in the hot sun than jumping off the end of the pier into the Lake. Silver Lake and Hill Lake were our favorites; probably because they were so close. McClure's Lake is also one of those Natural Lakes of Kosciusko county. I did a little search and came up with a partial listing of only 58 lakes on this cools site about Indiana's clean lakes program. Kosciusko County Lakes I mention the refreshing feeling of jumping into the lake, but need to go back to the original feeling that stimulated this post. At 6:30 AM in early June that morning air is downright cold. At that time the refreshing cool water actually felt warm. The cold part was running to the pier, tossing your towel aside and jumping in the air as well as the more severe chill when you came out and grabbed the towel to get dry as soon as possible. Ah, you were AWAKE... Before you start yelling about the cruel counselors who made us endure that torture, I must tell you that the Morning Dip was voluntary. The lazy butts who passed it up would sit at 7am breakfast half asleep while the "dippers" were chattering away about the dip and the day to come.
I have to admit that the name of the lake wasn't at the forefront of my memory, so I went Googling to find it. Google Earth showed me that although the 4H camp had moved out somewhere during my mid teens, there is still a camp operating on that site; a conservation camp. Here's the link. WOW!!! Camp Mollenhour Same lake, different kids and updated facilities. When we were there there was a large (huge to an 11-year-old) hall built into the hill where we ate downstairs and had classes, meetings, etc. upstairs. East of that were the meeting grounds with girls cabins on the north and boys on the south. Both were surrounded by large trees. The cabins were pretty much as you might see as the barracks in GI Jane or other such military movies with bunks lining the walls and large flaps covering the screened "windows". The cross breeze was heavenly til you had to jump out of bed in the morning and run to the lake for the dip. A favorite thing to do in the middle of the night was to wait til the counselor was asleep, then sneak out of the cabin and go drop the flaps on other cabins (especially girl's cabins). If you did it well, in a coordinated manner, the silence of night would be broken by the large "slap, slap, slap" of a number of flaps hitting the cabin walls as the props were jerked away. Of course as you ran back to your cabin, you would be met at the door by your cabin counselor in his skivies and a scowl. The small detention or duty was worth the adventure. Along with meetings and classes there were crafts. I remember the agonizing process of choosing which craft to go for each year. One year I made a red and white woven plastic belt which during our first year of marriage was used to hold the passenger side door shut on our yellow 1956 Crown Victoria. What a site that was. Aside from the fashion statement it wasn't a problem because the car had bench seats and Georgia hardly ever sat on the right 1/3 of the seat (giggle giggle)...
Before I leave the "chilly morning" theme, I should mention that during those days except when away from home, I hardly ever wore a shirt after 9am. I typically wore a white T-shirt to do the morning chores, then off it came til late at night. If I was extremely careful, I could wear the same shirt several days in a row before I got tomato juice or something else. (See post of August 10, 2011; Ode to the Vine Ripened Tomato).
I mentioned above that the 4H camp moved during my later teen years. That move was to a more modern facility with concrete "outhouses" and showers along with other updated amenities. Although it was nicer there were the complaints about the increase in camp fees and for those of us in southern Kosciusko County, the longer drive. Silver Lake and Lake McClure are in they southern most townships of the county while the new camp was at Dewart Lake in the northern part of the county. You can find Dewart on the Kosciusko County Lakes link above. It was at that camp that I did my Elvis impersonation as an entry in the annual talent show. I'm sure it was terrible with the out of tune twangy guitar and most likely off key singing. I'm thinking I did "You Ain't Nuthin But a Hound Dog"... but not sure. Bad singing, bad guitar, but I thought I had the "look". I'll end this post with pictures. The long drive to the wilderness of Lake McClure; me with a couple of my 4H pigs, my ducktail hair do, and my 4H trophies. I had piles of 4H ribbons from those 11 years in the club, but they didn't make the transition to my adult life. I still have not mastered the art of posting pictures in this blog, so won't guarantee the order;
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| Map to Lake McClure |
1 comment:
thanks Dad for sharing your memories & an important part of our national heritage. I didn't know you did Elvis @ the talent contest! Love Rod
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