The Cabin

If you know me, you’ll also know that I love spending summer days at the lake. On the cold days we experience here up in Duluth, I like to picture myself being back near the warm water. In the city of Menomonie, Wisconsin there sits a series of lakes through which the Red Cedar River flows. Just fifteen miles east, in the township of Wheaton lies my house. My cabin is not far from home, but the perfect distance to get away from everyday life. When the weather is warm and I’m not working, the chances are you’ll be able to find me at the lake. On the smaller part of Lake Tainter, you’ll find a small gray cabin. It is home to so many different memories from everyone in my dad’s family.

The cabin, which is owned by my great-grandma has two small bedrooms, a bathroom, kitchen, and a dining/living space. There isn’t a lot of room, but it’s a comfortable place for the family to gather. There’s a garage out back where we store all of our kayaks, paddle boards, and other things we take out into the water. In the cold months, we store our pontoon there as well as a fishing boat. One last thing on the property there is the guest house. It’s really just one room with a couch, some chairs, a table and a bed. Whenever the cabin itself is crowded, my cousins and I will all go hang out there to get away from all of the hustle and bustle of a family get-together.

On weekends that I go and stay there, I’m typically with my parents, sister, grandparents, and my cousin. My grandparents will take a bedroom, and so will my parents. The three of us that remain have to fight over our sleeping arrangements. Usually my cousin and I will argue over who has to share with my sister. He’ll make an argument that because he’s the only “man” that he gets a couch to himself, and I get to share the tiny–and mildly uncomfortable–pullout couch with my sister. My argument is that I’m the oldest and obviously that means I get first pick. I always end up drawing the short end of the stick and have to share with my sister. No big deal I guess. None of that really matters though, especially when you wake up in the morning to the smell of fresh french toast, eggs, and bacon. It’s the moms that are up. A time for my mom to bond with her mother-in-law while also spilling the latest hot gossip from her job. My sister, cousin, and I have three things to do in the mornings. All of which allow us to avoid helping make breakfast. We’re either sleeping, listening to the gossip session while pretending to sleep, or silently playing games on our phones. Eventually, I’m the first to get up, and when I do I help set the table. My cousin will follow, and then my sister. After some time, the old guys get up from their slumbers and mosey out into the kitchen. Just in time for breakfast.

We all enjoy breakfast.

When we finish our meal, everyone either helps clean, or uses this time to change out of their pajamas for the day. On these mornings, I’ll usually help clean some dishes or clean the table from the sticky syrup, bacon grease, or spilled milk. Once that’s done, I’ll grab an outfit out of my thrown-together weekend bag and get ready for the day. I’ll then grab my hammock and a book before heading outside. There are two trees in particular between which I will always put my hammock. It gives me the perfect amount of shade, while also giving me the best look at the lake. I grab one strap and give the tree a big hug to wrap it around. I lift it up high enough to keep me off the ground before retreating to do it to the other tree. When I’m satisfied with my work, I grab the heavy-duty cloth of the hammock and clip it to each strap. Once I’m done with that, I’ll kick my sandals off and pull myself up and into a sitting position before ultimately laying back down again. At this point, I’m able to take a deep breath in and begin reading. Unless there’s a bunch of little kids running around or other distractions, I won’t listen to any music while I’m reading. Instead, I’ll listen to the sounds of boats in the distance, waves crashing against each other, and birds flying through the air. I enjoy the silence, even if I only get a good twenty minutes of it. Now I’m not completely antisocial, obviously I love spending time with my family. We spend sunny days at the cabin on the lake. Usually things will start out super chill. My sister and I will typically take out the paddle boards, while my cousin will take a kayak… or fish off the dock. My sister and I will goof off out on the water. We’ll have our own yoga class, tan, and even jump in and swim. We would stay out on the lake like that all day if we could. It’s so calm and peaceful, that is until large waves come by. Eventually, we’ll decide that it’s probably time to head back. When we tie off the boards on the dock, we’ll look to my dad to see if we can take the boat out and go tubing. With some slight persuasion, he takes the boat down off the lift while we go and grab the tube. We attach the tow rope to the back of the boat before we decide who gets to go first. Before anyone can come to a consensus, my sister hops onto the back of the tube before giving us a smirk. My cousin and I just get onto the boat and take our places at the front. If you don’t know my dad, he shows no mercy when it comes to driving the boat with a tuber. My sister will get going and ask to slow down, does my dad slow down? Absolutely not.

After falling off a few times, I allow my cousin to go next so I can mentally and physically prepare for the hell that my dad is going to put me through. My dad once again whips his nephew all across the lake, although he doesn’t fall off as much because he’s able to hold on. Eventually it’s my turn to look death in the face and accept my fate. I slowly walk to the side of the boat before jumping onto the tube. I get comfortable as my dad adds tension to the rope so he can begin my torture. I hold on tightly as he gasses it and goes flying across the lake. I don’t even have time to scream before a laugh erupts out of me. Pure adrenaline rushes through me as I take in the surroundings that pass by me at a million miles per hour. One particular hard turn sends me outside of the boat’s wake where the water is calm. Now this might sound like the best place to be, but let me tell you that if my dad is driving the boat it is the LAST place you want to be. He takes another quick turn which sends me back the other way across the wake where I inevitably flip over twice and off the tube. When I come up for air I can’t do anything but laugh and chatter my teeth in the cold water. One of the spotters on the boat alerts my dad that I have fallen off and he turns around for me to go again for round two. He comes by and we chat for a moment before I swim back to the tube and climb on again. I take a moment to situate myself on the tube once again before giving a thumbs up to signal that I’m ready to go. My dad takes that as a sign and begins his wrath of terror on his oldest child. I grip the handles until my knuckles go white. My wet hair is flying all over the place and water is splashing in my face. I can’t contain my smiles once again as I squint into the sunshine. Being at the lake is my favorite thing to do. I love it even more because I get to spend the time with my family. It’s moments like that which seem to freeze my time on the tube in the middle of the lake. I snap back to reality when I go over a few large waves. I can feel my whole body bouncing off of the tube and into the air. My parents didn’t raise a quitter so I hold on for dear life. I ultimately come out winning this battle over my dad. I don’t fall off once after that and I get towed back to the dock reigning victorious.

Weekends at the lake with my family are my favorite.