Growing
up, I didn’t appreciate Lake Wazeecha as I do now. I took advantage of growing
up next to the lake but never realized what a gem it really was. Back in the 60’s
my girlfriend and I couldn’t go to Red Sands unless one of our older siblings
would go too. I’m not sure of the significance
having them take us, they never kept an eye on us. Now that I think of it, I
don’t remember seeing them at the beach … where could they have been? I think
their biggest responsibility was to get us across 80th Street. Once
we crossed the (not so) busy highway, we were on our own. We pedaled our bikes
down South Park Road, turned into the woods between 2 trees and proceeded to
Red Sands. As we approached the beach, in one smooth move, we leaped off our
bikes, dropped our towels and plunged into the lake. We spend the afternoon
rolling down the hill, building sand castles and … wondering where our older
siblings disappeared to. By 4:00 our peanut butter and jelly sandwich was wore off and it was time to head home for supper and hose the red
sand from our … well, everything.
We "matured" into the age that we became
the regular kids hanging out on the raft executing our Olympic dives. When I say “Olympic dives” I mean playing “King of The
Raft”. We would hang on the buoys
surrounding the swimming area and would reluctantly get off after the lifeguard
would blow their whistle at us. From a distance we admired the “cool kids”
swinging from the rope around the corner out of view from the lifeguards. On
slow “cool kid” days, we made feeble attempts to swing from the rope and
usually ended up in about 6” of water or slamming back onto land.
When
our teen years began, we discovered the other end of the lake … White
Sands. Traveling to White Sands took us through the woods on a dirt path and
across the dam to a place that was mystical. Who were these other kids we had never
seen before? By now, I had my first job. I was babysitting every morning. I
would tuck those hard earned quarters into the front pocket of my cutoff jeans and
head to White Sands Miniature Golf. The days of building sandcastles had crumbled
and lying in the sun, playing miniature golf and riding our bikes was how the afternoon was spent. When we left our little country school and attended school in Rapids, we saw some of the kids we thought of as strangers. Wow, there is life outside of Kellner.
Entering high school and obtaining
our drivers license opened up new opportunities at the lake.
The beach scene was for taking naps and drinking “Jolly Good” after spending an
evening at Willow Run. We became brave enough to take a dip in the forbidden territory
of the dam. When the lake froze over and the snow began to fall, we could be found skating, sledding and warming up in an ice fishing shack or by a campfire on the lake. By our senior year, we owned the lake. The campground was full of
campers and coolers. The lifeguards and rafts were long gone.
We
left the lake for the next generation. It wasn’t as in good of shape as when we
used it. Years passed and the lake and its surrounding began to show its age. The
creeks were silting into the lake, the weeds began taking over and the buoys
for the swimming areas were gone. The lakeside picnic areas had missing seats
on the swings. There were rusted charcoal grills and picnic tables floating in
the lake.
Life
happens and years passed before I started using Lake Wazeecha again. During my
time away, the lake was dredged. The campground was given a family friendly
atmosphere and the picnic areas starting swinging again. All of this was
completed in time to start taking my family camping, swimming and boating. To
this day, although we only live a few miles from the lake, we camp there every
summer. A 4 mile walking/biking trail will have you crossing paths with all
ages and some of those friends from way back when ... when I saw you at Red Beach, first met you at White Beach or shared a bottle of TJ Swann with.
If
you haven’t done so lately, go catch a fish or a sunset on the lake.
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