Adventure 474: Little Eden Camp/Post C

Flower Power

I'm so stunned by the juxtaposition, I feel like a deer shivering in shock beside the road  after being mowed down by an early model Hummer. Or maybe it's just the whiplash of another fabulous family day jerked by back the irony of experience. Let me explain. The day started in it usual idyllic manner. Camp was quiet in the early hours, and about eight Kel, Rod, and Scott came down for their regular early attempt to catch the big ones. (Actually, they're happy just to be on the water getting their lines set; they're absolutely ecstatic when they snatch a fish from its homey confines of Portage Lake.) Today, Rod caught one, but since it was only one, he compassionately threw the fair sized rock bass back into the cool clear waters of the lake. The day proceeded nicely from there. I rode for an hour. The girls worked puzzles. We snacked, ate lunch, snacked some more, and generally did as we pleased. The second fishing attempt came up empty: skunked they call it. Later, Kel took a crowd out for an afternoon  joy cruise in the boat. The juxtapositional ironies began  when we drove to Manistee for dinner. Manistee is another small coastal town which serves as a deep water port for boats to find refuge in bad weather. It is also a summer tourist stop. Downtown has charm, several shops, quite a few good eateries, and a nice friendly feel. We walked by a shop that had racks of t-shirts for sale. The front of one shirt read: "Why in the hell do I have to press #1 for English?" Given the national dilemma on immigration, and given my position that we should still be welcoming the huddled masses albeit in legal fashion, I'm still taken aback by the harsh isolationist attitude the sentiment on this shirt represents. But no matter. I noticed it. I commented on it, and that was it. Dinner was excellent, our waiter was friendly and efficient, and I didn't think twice about disparaging his choice to tattoo nearly his entire body, including quite a bit of ink up his neck. I consider this land a place where freedom in its best form dictates a live and let live policy. My shivering whiplash happened when we stopped at the city park in Onekama for a free concert. The group playing was a tribute band honoring the songs of Peter, Paul, and Mary who rose to prominence as a powerful voice during the flower power era prior to the rebellion over the Vietnam War. They were a group that sang about the hopes and wishes of a generation to stop the hate, stop the war, love one another and that kind of thing. The crowd in front of them, who were enjoying themselves immensely, are now largely republican. I just couldn't help wondering how we've gotten ourselves all the way from peace and love to contempt and exclusion. It left we shivering, but since I appreciate each day I'm given, I'll go to sleep believing that life is good, especially today.

The boys were reeling and a rocking, but...

 No fish today.

 We learned a new card game called Eucre today. When a team is one point from winning, they're said to be "In the Barn". Tradition has it that one partner has to put cards beside his ears, fan his finger down like teats so that the other partners can say "squeeze, squeeze." Ridiculous camp fun from less complicated times.

 The Peter, Paul, and Mary group were quite good. They're all professionals with other careers. They play the music for the love and sentiment of a bye gone era.

 We were all teenagers in Peter, Paul, and Mary's hey day, so naturally we could sing right along.

 Downtown Manistee. Very quaint.

Sisters, enjoying themselves after dinner.

A Little Eden Camp tradition is to have a bit of ice cream before bed. Who would know that these three had just come from the cabin after each eating a healthy slice of almond cake topped with fresh strawberries and smothered with a generous dollop of whipped cream?