In discussions with M. and A. of my joining the G. clan's family reunion and being the sole interloper (I use that word in this context: that I was the only person who was not a G. by birth or by relationship or marriage), I certainly brought up the fact that I had a tent and if it was pretty we could camp. M. also thought that camping sounded like a good idea. It wasn't until I got up there that I learned that M. had never actually camped before. We decided that Friday, assuming the weather was nice, we would go out and sleep in a tent but we didn't know where that ultimate sleeping spot would be. W. recommended a lean-to on Streeter Lake (I'm not sure if I'm remembering the name correctly). She said that Streeter Lake was beautiful to look at and had a flock of loons, but that it also had leeches. So, no swimming there. The upside was that just a little further bit of a hike would bring you to Crystal Lake, whose waters were so very clear. We liked the sound of this quite a bit and got the driving instructions and map that would help us get there. This was no touristy camp area. This was wilderness-y. There was a single unpaved road that twisted its way into the Forest Preserve, some sections of which were so bumpy I feared for Duckie, Ambassador Iron Face's undercarriage. Eventually we arrived at relatively primitive campsites (a fire pit and outhouse, but no running water or electricity) and found three possible paths that would lead us to the lean-to and lake. While W. gave us a lot of landmarks to go by, the terrain and choices were not easily discerned. No trail colors on trees, no signs saying 'Crystal Lake: x miles--------------->', so it was a bit of process of elimination and 'if you don't succeed try, try and try again'. This was Streeter Lake, we parked the car by it.
It took us maybe an hour, maybe three miles, of being wrong before we finally found the lean-to. Once we found it, we returned to the car to get more provisions for spending an afternoon swimming and sitting by Crystal Lake. Then we proceeded to get even more confused by the path choices put in front of us that there were moments where it seemed like the lake and its pristine waters couldn't possibly exist.
All the while these frackin bugs were trying to attack our heads. I extreme bugsprayed myself, which did a pretty good job of repelling the suckers.
One of our wrong turns led to a very unexpected sight. In the midst of the woods there was a clearing, with a few rectangular plots of planted flowers, as well as a rock with a plaque and a large stone structure. So out of place.
The Shuler Family.
The day before, during our walk back from our swimming/sitting spot my foot got caught in a dip in the ground, which led me to fall over and into a fallen tree's stump. It hurt. This is the bruise that appeared the next day. It was taken right after M. and I, on the brink of turning back, finally found and swam in Crystal Lake.
The water was, I'm actually shaking my head with the pleasure of this memory, really, really, really clear. Swimming pool clear, no. It was more like a less vibrant version of Caribbean waters...you know what I mean, when you can see the bottom long after you can touch it. And the bottom was sandy not mucky mucky. The water was bracingly cold but you could adapt; I enjoyed it after the walk.
After swimming we sat down for a snack that included left over smoked salmon, rosemary Triscuts, tuna fish and mayonnaise, and artichoke hearts. I believe there was chocolate for dessert...though that may not be true when I think about it for a second.
One part of the walk to the lean-to and lakes was very different than the others. This was another, far more natural, clearing with lots and lots of moss. It was really beautiful.
I think this is the same kind of moss that grows on the rock in Sewanee.
I also saw these deep red wildflowers. I have no good excuse for why I didn't take a picture, especially since I kept asking M. what they were...and she kept on not knowing:)
The turn into the one-lane road had a really dilapidated house and car on the corner. I wonder what would happen if you called that number.
It took us maybe an hour, maybe three miles, of being wrong before we finally found the lean-to. Once we found it, we returned to the car to get more provisions for spending an afternoon swimming and sitting by Crystal Lake. Then we proceeded to get even more confused by the path choices put in front of us that there were moments where it seemed like the lake and its pristine waters couldn't possibly exist.
All the while these frackin bugs were trying to attack our heads. I extreme bugsprayed myself, which did a pretty good job of repelling the suckers.
One of our wrong turns led to a very unexpected sight. In the midst of the woods there was a clearing, with a few rectangular plots of planted flowers, as well as a rock with a plaque and a large stone structure. So out of place.
The Shuler Family.
The day before, during our walk back from our swimming/sitting spot my foot got caught in a dip in the ground, which led me to fall over and into a fallen tree's stump. It hurt. This is the bruise that appeared the next day. It was taken right after M. and I, on the brink of turning back, finally found and swam in Crystal Lake.
The water was, I'm actually shaking my head with the pleasure of this memory, really, really, really clear. Swimming pool clear, no. It was more like a less vibrant version of Caribbean waters...you know what I mean, when you can see the bottom long after you can touch it. And the bottom was sandy not mucky mucky. The water was bracingly cold but you could adapt; I enjoyed it after the walk.
After swimming we sat down for a snack that included left over smoked salmon, rosemary Triscuts, tuna fish and mayonnaise, and artichoke hearts. I believe there was chocolate for dessert...though that may not be true when I think about it for a second.
One part of the walk to the lean-to and lakes was very different than the others. This was another, far more natural, clearing with lots and lots of moss. It was really beautiful.
I think this is the same kind of moss that grows on the rock in Sewanee.
I also saw these deep red wildflowers. I have no good excuse for why I didn't take a picture, especially since I kept asking M. what they were...and she kept on not knowing:)
The turn into the one-lane road had a really dilapidated house and car on the corner. I wonder what would happen if you called that number.
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