Lambs love vacations. The favorite was always the annual fishing trip.
Clyde often said that half ot the fun of a fishing trip was anticipation. He would spend hours sorting his tackle boxes, putting new lines on the fishing reels, and preparing the camping gear.
We always kept our eyes peeled for white horses while travelling. Whenever we would see one we would “Stamp ‘em” by licking our right thumb, touching it on our left palm, then hitting the right palm with the side of the right fist. That was for good luck.
As we travelled down the highways, he would marvel at the many different outfits that others had. Each was set up just like the owner liked; no two were the same. All were analyzed with great care. We tried many different arrangements ourselves. Sometimes it was camping gear in a boat on a trailer, sometimes it was utility trailers with gear inside and a boat on top. Later, ‘roughing it’ became a high-low trailer with a boat on top, then a series of travel trailers, culminating in a 28 foot Airstream.
In 1968, the year before Clyde retired he finally traded up to the Airstream. He also bought a new 1968 Chrysler New Yorker to pull it. He took a Sabatical from Northern “for travel”. Then he and Bessie took a long trip including a visit to the Finley Ranch near Phoenix. Bessie’s niece Virginia had married a third generation farmer-rancher whose own grandmother had come to Arizona in a covered wagon. Clyde was especially impressed by the ranch, the quarter horses and the 2000 acres of cotton.
Bob’s first experience driving while pulling a trailer was in the 1960’s when he travelled with Clyde and Bessie from LaCrosse, Wisconsin to Ada. At that time Clyde had bought a 26 foot Holiday Rambler that he pulled with an Oldsmobile. He said “This outfit really pulls nice; you don’t even know the trailer is back there…Here, you drive”. Of course at the time we were approaching Chicago so Bob’s learning experience was on the Kennedy Expressway, the Dan Ryan, and over the big bridge on the Chicago Skyway.
For many years, in the 1940’s, Clyde would take Bob for the opening of bass season in Michigan. We would camp out at Stylus Lake in Ogemaw County. Dutch Baughman and his son Joe, accompanied us for many years. Later, Dutch’s Son-in-Law, Joe Sprol would join us. Some of the others that came along over the years were Larry Archer, Bob Tipple, and Norm Archer.
Joe Baughman later played quarterback at Northern while taking Pre-Med. Then he went to Western Reserve.. While at Reserve studying for his M.D. he also had a full-time job as a milkman, starting at about four in the morning. Later, he went to MIT and got a PhD in Nuclear Physics so he could do medical research on the blood. That’s what happened to one of the kids next door!
Stylus was actually two lakes, located behind an old weatherbeaten farmhouse. Big Stylus and Little Stylus were connected by a lily-pad lined channel. There was an island in the middle of Big Stylus. Around the lakes and the island were lots of lily-pads and lots of weeds. The bait of choice was pork chunk on a Stanley Weedless Hook.
Clyde used to say that it was so wild up there that “That’s where God lost his overshoes”.
Small-mouth Bass and Northern Pike were the targets; the weeds and lily-pads were ‘where they lived’. Small-mouth Bass were the preferred catch because they were better fighters, and better eating. Northern Pike were not as feisty and were filled with bones. Dutch described small northerns as ‘hammer handles’.
A grizzled old man lived at a weatherbeaten farmhouse by the road and collected camping and boat rental fees. He also showed us directions. Standing by his rake with the handle on the ground, he would line it up, then point to one end and say “That is Nor”. Pointing to the other end he would say, ‘That is Sou”. Turning the rake 90 degrees then he would point out East and West. Although we did have to go up to the farmhouse for water we rarely saw him after our arrival. He spent a lot of time cutting wood for the Winter…
The campsite was on a hillside beside two trees about half a mile down a sand road behind the farmhouse. We slept in tents with sleeping bags. There was an old, weathered plank picnic table between the trees that was used for cooking and dining. There was an outhouse over the hill.
Home-made wooden rental boats were at the dock about another hundred yards down the road. Usually we were the only campsite on the lake but the old man rented boats and ocassionally we would see other fishermen who came for the day. We considered them intruders.
Vacations 1 (Lamb Stories 4.doc)