Silver Lake Sojourn

Silver Lake Sojourn

Between Shawn ‘Bubba’ Wilson and I, we made the trek up to the Eastern Sierras, the June Loop, thirty five years straight, we drank, laughed and caught a lot of fish, large and small, but this particular trip really stood out. We decided to take our daughters up one year to camp, in tents, at the Silver Lake Resort, and I use the term Resort, very loosely.

I don’t remember exactly why, but we took my falling apart, hoped to make it, piece of shit old car and she performed about how we expected. We got to Victorville when the transmission decided to take a shit, an $1100 shit, an expensive shit for a cheap car, to say the least. Our daughters Candace and my Kelly were probably about seven and neither of us had ‘extra’ funds so I had to make the call. “Hey dad” I started and after cursing at me a bit, telling me I was a moron, which of course morons all over the planet took offense to, he agreed to foot the bill and I would have to pay him back.

So he spoke to the mechanic that assured him he’d get it working and we had twenty four hours in ‘Picturesque’ Victorville to entertain our daughters. We got ourselves a hotel room, took them to a bowling alley and got them ice cream and waited not so patiently, but the car, as promised, was ready the next morning. We got back on the road and made another two hundred miles or so when the tranny went again. The car was taking so many shits I thought it had diarrhea.

This time we had two calls to make, my dad again, that wasn’t pleasant, and our old friend Dennis Ballard. Dennis was driving big rigs full time by then, and he was in Sparks, Nevada, the Reno area. It was at least a four hour trip for him, so we left the smoking pile of Rubble, known as my car, that neither Fred Flintstone or Barney Rubble would have driven, on the side of the road and Dennis rescued us.

Being Dennis he used our breakdown as an excuse, and on the way to us, he stopped off at the Silver lake camp site, dropped off his wife and sons in their trailer and worked his way to us. By early that afternoon he had us camping in tents along side his family and I don’t know who was more relieved, Bubba and I, or our daughters.

We decided to take the girls fishing the next morning but that evening, Dennis’s wife Sharon was kind enough to watch all of the kids and we three got busy pounding beers. As the sun faded and the moon came on duty, Bubba and I put our daughters in their tent, they wanted to sleep in the same room, so why not. That meant I had to share a three person tent with Bubba, it was a tight fit.

We drank until Sharon called Dennis in and Bubba and I soon retired to our quarters. In the middle of the night I heard the big guy groaning, apparently a spasm had hit his hamstring. He tried gallantly to get out of the tent, but between his size and the small tent door he got stuck halfway through the flap. He was screaming in pain and asked me, neigh begged me, to punch him rapidly in the hamstring. That sound reverberated around the campground and if anyone walked by I’m sure the thought something else kinky was afoot. He was on all fours, halfway out the tent getting slammed from behind, you can’t make this shit up.

We woke up laughing at what that scene must of looked like, made a quick breakfast and got the girls up to fish. Kelly was dinky so I casted for her, she knew how to reel and within minutes got a bite. As she was reeling it in a coot looked like it was following her catch in, nope, the coot had been hooked by my girl, and she brought this angry, angry bird to my feet. I was laughing so hard I nearly peed myself and cut her line. The coot hissed at us as he flew away.

Early that evening the girls were bored and of course the three of us were drinking again, it had to be beer thirty somewhere, and Kelly and Candace asked permission to use the fishing net. I questioned Kelly and she told us that we’re going to go catch a squirrel. I hid my laugh, figured that might keep them busy for awhile and agreed quickly with a nod. We were giggling when we sent them off, but within five minutes they returned with a squirrel in the net, a very pissed off squirrel. Once again I was laughing and somewhat scared as I had to go dump the maddened squirrel off down at the end of the campground. My lesson was when it came to animals of any kind, don’t underestimate Kelly. She’s a professional dog trainer now but she could teach a wild monkey to fetch her a beer or pour her a glass of wine.

Dennis again came through as he headed back to Sparks, grabbed his flat bed trailer, picked us up, drove us to the car then to the mechanics. The mechanic was not happy, but when my dad heard the tranny blew again, I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that call. Dennis then drive us all home, and a few days later John O’Keefe drove me back to Victorville to pick up the car.

When life hits you hardest it’s great friends, a loving family and the faith in God that gets you through, I’m convinced by that statement. I hope you all had a memorable Christmas and 2020 is soon coming to an end, so we all have that to look forward to.

Crack Egg Out