Lake Superior Hockey

When I was a kid living in Munising, MI Lake Superior was part of our playground. In the winter the city crews used to come around town and flood a few vacant fields in various part of the city for a skating rink. However, the big skating rink lay a quarter mile north, it was approximately 2.5 miles by 2.5 miles. Much of the time Munising Bay was covered with ice that had a snow cover on it. I lived on what was known as the West End of Munising and we had easy access to the woods on the west end and the bay to the north of us. So we kids would take a couple of shovels and our skates and head down to the bay and the ice. Shoveling an area we could get down to the ice layer, then if we chopped a hole in the ice water would come up the hole and flood the area giving us a nice rink. We would play hockey out on the bay day after day until the next snow storm then we'd be back to shoveling.

One year we encountered a cold snap with strong northwesterly winds. The wind was so strong it scoured the ice until the snow layer was gone and we were left with miles of clear ice. The "Westenders" had never seen such a thing. Down to the bay, on with the skates and we could skate anyplace we wanted to. It didn't take too long to figure out that if you got a bed sheet you could fashion your own personal sail and use the wind to propel yourself for long distances. I got a sheet and sailed from out by Brown's Addition to the city dock, that is a distance of over a mile. It was tough skating back into the wind, but the ride was worth it.

One problem I ran into at that age was weak ankles. I had hockey skates but I couldn't stand on the edges. My ankles would flop down like a drugged pigeon's wings. I actually started wearing out the leather sides of the skates from scrapping the edges on the ice. It was a problem I was never able to overcome as a young man. Of course you don't play hockey in figure skates which probably would've provided me with sufficient support for my ankles. Oh well, Gordy Howe I'm not.

So those days were in the 1950's and it was a great place to play winter sports. Nature provided us with spectacular amphitheaters. We were not limited by artificial structures, but often could ski or skate with complete abandon. What a way to grow up.

The In's are Ahead of the Out's.

I think of my Dad quite often. He grew up in an era two generations removed from me, he was 43 years of age when I was born. Children and people amused each other instead of being amused by things like TV and the radio. It seems to me that wit, and creative humor are slowly disappearing from our human scene. With the advent of indoor/outdoor thermometers the game of Ins vs Outs was born. Ins being the temperature of the dwelling, Outs being the ambient temperature outside. So, Dad would solemnly announce to those about that the Ins were ahead of the Outs during the winter, and of course in the summer the reverse was often true where the Outs were ahead of the Ins.

It was a simple play on words. I am sure to many today it would be "corny." I have decided that "corny" is also a definition for something silly, for a thought process that exists outside of the box. It seems to me we don't have enough silliness in our lives today. I like talking with my sisters, they have a sharp wit and a highly creative imagination. In the wake of yet another killing spree on a college campus it seems to me that perhaps we should take a little refuge from time to time in whether or not the Ins or the Outs are ahead.

Once upon a fishing trip!

Years ago, I don't know how many now, but many, perhaps 30+ years. My first wife, Bonnie, and I took a fishing trip with her Mother (Glady) and her Father (Tom) on the Forest Lake Reservoir south of Munising, MI. It was one of those beautiful summer days, we had two boats, Bonnie and I in one and Glady and Tom in the other.

We fished the weed beds, the shallow, the old river bed. We cast, we drift fished, we fished with worms, minnows, and artificial lures. I don't even remember if we caught many fish, but we must've caught some.

We saw numerous Sandhill Cranes. Sandhill Cranes were an endangered species at the time and it was magnificent to see so many. They are a huge bird with a six or eight foot wingspan. When excited they make some God awful noise. We saw them wading in the shallows as we fished the shore, we saw them take off and land flying with long slow wing strokes moving quietly on the summer air.

We had a shore lunch and walked the small sand island we landed on looking at empty clam shells gathered on the shoreline. We watched large long-range SAC bombers flying out of Sawyer Air Force Base near Gwinn, MI. The takeoff and landing routes often took these large aircraft over the dense woods of the central Upper Peninsula, much to the consternation of the wildlife.

It was a grand day to be alive in the native out doors of my home land. I was with people I cared deeply about, and found comfort and assurance in there presence. Nothing was wrong with the world, and everything was right. It was a glorious day.