When I was a little girl, my dad and uncle owned a 22 foot Catalina sailboat together. They kept it at the majestic and very large Lake Pend Oreille in Northern Idaho–which felt like the longest drive in the world as a kid. I don’t think I was quite ten–probably more like 8. My sister Julie and my cousin David would sit with me in the backseat as we cruised out to the gigantic, mysterious lake in our 1975 white, Impala station wagon. (This old beater later became my car in high school as well as my said cousin’s car as well.)
Once onboard, the three littles would put our orange, and extremely uncomfortable, lifejackets on. We’d set out on our what seemed to be cross Atlantic journey. (Lake Pend Oreille is 148 square miles, and it’s the 5th deepest like in the USA!) Because the lake is so large, the wind can be quite wicked and hence a very good sailing lake. But, the three of us, David, Julie and myself, would shrink down below and basically fear for our lives. We’d scream our heads off as we for sure thought we were going to tip. Oh, we were so scared!
Some trips were better than others–like the ones when we’d go camping on Buttonhook Bay. There’s this cute little island near land, so it feels quite adventurous yet safe all at the same time. I remember we’d take a bridge to mainland with our flashlights at night to use the campground facilities. Oh those were scary but fun times! We had such neat experiences going with just our father; he protected us while showing us an appreciation for both nature and adventure.
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