Really enjoy the old pictures of the Turtle Flambeau. I started going up in 1982, after my Mom met my Step-Dad. He started coming up with his Mom and Dad and continued to do so throughout his life (in fact, he now lives in Butternut and just called to ask me to take him fishing!)

Anyway, we would come up for two weeks every summer-the last week in July and the first week in August. We'd camp over at Hiawatha, sometimes in tents, sometimes in campers, and sometimes in a cabin. I remember Rene well (Jack and Bob's mother) as well as their dog "Doc", an old collie that could be a bit grouchy. Early mornings meant bacon and eggs and then early A.M. fishing. My step Dad always fished with Pfluger reels, old steel rods, and braided Dacron line. A white, double tailed Mr Twister was his lure of choice. Northern's and the occasional walleye were caught. Of course, he couldn't go without a shirt pocket full of "Swisher Sweets" a cooler full of Pabst, and his pearl-handled .22 pistol.

Afternoon would roll around and anyone that had been fishing would now be back at the cabin / campsite. Lunch was had and then maybe a nap. In the heat of the day was when we'd go swimming at Hiawatha's beach (close to the bridge of the "honeymoon island". The sound of kids in the water would usually be enough to trigger the step Dad to hook up the water ski rope and away we'd go. For the most part, we'd stick to the Lake Bastine basin as there were still a lot of floaters on the flowage but I can say for sure, at least once, I ski'd all the way down to the dam and back (yes, could have been Darwinism at work!)

Round' about supper time, we'd cook steaks or burgers on the grill. Then the whole crew would head off to the lodge for a few drinks (well, sometimes a whole lot more than a few) with Jack and Bob. Those of us in the younger generation were told to put our soda's "on the tab" and never paid for a thing for those two weeks. The quarters were deep in our pockets and we'd stay out as late as the adults playing Donkey Kong, Centeped, or whatever other video games they had in the lodge at the time. I recall fondly how just about every night, a bat would fly out from the rafters and make a few laps around the bar, causing a drunken commotion. The bat would then crawl back into a dark spot and smart talk, dirty jokes, and adult foolishness continued. Rarely did our crew leave before 2:00 A.M. Then, it was to bed and back up at 6:00 to start it all over again. After all, you can sleep at home- WE were on VACATION!

Other things we did for fun- the step Dad had a 200cc Honda motorcycle. All of us kids learned how to drive by the age of 12 and we'd make "laps" from Hiawatha, through the Flambeau Highlands, to Lake Bastine, then down Turtle Dam Rd to Koshak Rd and Robinson's Landing. At Robinson's you'd turn back, swing through Fort Flambeau and Donner's Bay before heading up the hill in front of Hiawatha with chest puffed out like I was leading a motorcycle gang. Then, I'd hand off the motorcycle to the next kid. Pretty awesome stuff for a 12 year old!

Then there were night's we'd load up the cars and the whole family (I mean extended family- Grandmothers, aunts, uncles, cousin's, etc) and head over to the dump on hy F just north of Thomeks Bar (now Camp 1) We'd disembark and open up our trunks, pulling out firearms like we were on an episode of "Doomsday Preppers" We'd shoot for an hour or so and then climb back into the cars and go visit Earl. I recall the adults talking about cheap beer, and I recall having to only pay a dime to play the barroom bowling game they had in front of the window. After a few drinks and just before sunset, we'd drive back to the dump, stopping short and walking in to watch the bears come out to eat. This was a huge thrill for a kid.


Eventually, my Mom and step-Dad purchased a little piece of land up north with an old trailer home on it. The two of them split up and Mom kept the place. She retired and moved up there with her new husband. They have now "gotten up there" in age and have moved back down south to be closer to medical care and to escape the harsh northern Wisconsin winters. The baton has been passed to my sister and I who have taken over the place. My brother bought the neighbors place and it appears that my family's presence in the the Turtle-Flambeau area has been secured for another generation....

Hope you don't mind my ramblings.

Rich