Fish roasts at the lake
There is nothing tastier than a small new potato, peas, carrots or greens harvested just before the meal. With the garden maturing so to is the season, September long weekend is around the corner several campers have already vacated and Ministikwan Lake is getting quieter. A good number of years back towards the end of the season Robert and I had set up a fish roast where you wrap your fish in wet newspaper then cook them under the coals. During this time my wife had relatives here from Wisconsin. They were here to visit Donna’s parents, who operated the Fowler Lake location and other relatives in the area. These folks were already older and still opted to camp at Ministikwan Lake rather than Fowler Lake with her parents. Friday evening the fire was crackling the fish, where cooking campers were gathered around. That weekend some regular campers, a family from Saskatoon who were also a family band, entertained everyone with a few Elvis tunes until the fish was ready. After the fish some people retired for the evening while others stoked the fire and poured another sociable. Donna’s relative, Bob, hung with us while his wife packed it in. We sat out enjoying the night and the company, before we knew it daylight was showing on the horizon. I suggested to Bob that since we were up we may as well fish. Without hesitation he was all about it, so we gathered up rods, tackle and launched the boat. It was an absolutely awesome fishing trip. We caught our limit of fish, watched the sun lift the fog off the lake and we were back in camp by 9 a.m., ready for breakfast. Unfortunately, not for Bob. As soon as he stepped off from the boat his wife swarmed him like bees on the run, the poor fellow was given no chance to open his mouth. She had even drug him back to the campsite by his ear. You definitely knew she was not a happy camper; what did he think he was doing staying out all night (enjoying himself). I headed for the house and explained to Donna that Bob’s wife was a little perturbed, but really what can you do about that. At any rate by 9:30 a.m., that trailer was packed up and left the yard, we just assumed they headed for Fowler Lake. That was not the case. East to Wisconsin was their destination. They just left. No good-byes, see you again - nothing. Just dust in their tracks. I attempted to contact Bob several times, but he never wrote back. One could only wonder as to what really happened. That was it, we never heard from those folks again. See what happens when you show your relatives a good time while camping at Ministikwan Lake. |
