Watervale Withdrawl Disorder

I was running an errand early Friday evening when right in front of me appeared a beautiful sunset. The setting sun, unencumbered by clouds, was filling the clear blue sky with red and orange afterglow. It was stunning. Not Watervale stunning, but nice for Chicago.

My favorite Watervale 2010 Sunset picture. Nothing in Chicago compares.

As I continued to marvel at the beauty of nature, my body broke out in a cold sweat and I started to shake. My heart began to race. I started to hyperventilate.

You may be thinking that I was having a heart attack or having a seizure, but I assure you this was nothing new. This happens each time I return home from Watervale and it has a clinical name: Watervale Withdrawl Disorder™ (WWD). Anyone who's been to Watervale at least once knows what I'm talking about.

Watervale is an addiction and a heck of a habit to break.

What is Watervale Withdrawl Disorder™?

It's the whiff of fresh bread baking in the Inn as you walk through your kitchen, even though you've been home a week and haven't used the oven. It's the sight of Crème Brûlée on a restaurant menu and knowing it won't live up to Watervale Crème Brûlée (and that you don't have an awesome waiter named Pat who held one aside just for you for dessert, even though they ran out in the 6:00 dinner seating).

Not actual Watervale Crème Brûlée, although it looks very similar.

It's the feeling of sand between your toes, even though you live in a concrete jungle and never walk barefoot.

Toes in the Watervale sand. Easter Weekend 2010. Believe me, this doesn't happen in Chicago. The "sand" we have here doesn't feel as good under your toes. I don't know what it is, but it's not fine like the sand I'm used to.

It's the realization that not only do doors have locks, but you best use them. It's the phantom sound of waves lapping on the dock even though the only body of water you see is in your morning shower.

It's the throbbing and burning you get in the back of your calves when you're on the Stairmaster from Hell without the reward of the view from the top of Baldy to make the pain go away better than any pain management drug known to man.

Lake Michigan (left) and Lower Herring Lake (right) from the top of Baldy taken in April 2010. When you see this sight, suddenly you forget the burn in your calves and you can't wait to make the hike again. It's kind of like how I hear your body forgets the pain of childbirth so you'll do it again.

It's the tears that run down your face when you realize you can't go back for 11 1/2 months AND you have to make it through another Chicago winter first.

Chicago Winter, 1967. From the Chicago Tribune.

It's finding a rock that has the telltale signs of a Petosky Stone, licking it and realizing it's just a regular dirty rock.

The Petosky Stone Dave found on the face of Baldy and gave me. It's between the size of a golf ball and a baseball.

It's walking outside around midnight to stargaze and realizing that not only is Cassiopeia (aka the Watervale W™) not visible in the northeast sky, you can barely see the moon.

Cassiopeia, also known as the Watervale W™, for obvious reasons.

It's being confused when a friend invites you to go to the Outlet and you grab your bathing suit because you think you're going to the Outlet (and are pissed when you realize you're only going shopping for last season's discount clothes).

Nebraska Crossing Outlets in Nebraska (pic from Wikipedia) are definitely not . . .

. . . The Outlet.
Taken by Shari Noble, Aug. 28, 2010. Click here for another of my favorite Outlet pictures. It truly illustrates how the Outlet links Lower Herring Lake and Lake Michigan. If you look closely, you can see Lower Herring Lake peaking out between the trees in the right half of the picture.

Unfortunately, Watervale Withdrawl Disorder™ is not curable. Of course, it's not terminal either, so there is some good news. I have found a few ways to deal with WWD including staying in close contact with Watervale friends via Facebook and in person, writing about Watervale on Little Merry Sunshine, drinking Michigan wines whenever possible, telling Watervale stories to anyone who will listen, curling up in my Watervale sweatshirts, displaying the collection of rocks I've found on the Big Beach, filling hurricane vases with Watervale sand (that I often run my fingers through) and a candle, wearing my charm bracelet filled with charms I've bought in Northern Michigan, and flipping through old scrapbooks.

Of course, the best cure for Watervale Withdrawl Disorder™ is to return to Watervale as soon as possible, which I've been trying to do a couple times a year since Dave now lives there permanently.

How do you cope with Watervale Withdrawl Disorder™?

Watervale - All Summer Long

As I was driving home late last night, I heard a new song that immediately sent me back to the summers of youth at Watervale. In less than 4 minutes, the song perfectly captured every moment from my early teen years through my college summers and I was convinced that it must be written or sung by a new artist that coincidentally I'd grown up with at Watervale.

I also knew immediately I had to share the song with Dave because he lived it too. Hell, he's STILL living it and I'm just a wee bit jealous!

As a guest, Watervale has been part of my life since 1977 (and we still migrate there every August - just 69 days from today!!!!!), but I spent the summer of 1990 there on staff and it took on a whole new meaning for me. That summer can best be summed up with the slogan from the back of our staff t-shirts: "We died every morning, survived every afternoon, and lived every night!"

My cumulative years at Watervale are filled with many firsts:

• My first kiss
• My first alcoholic drink
• I first went to a beach fire at Watervale
• The first time I went skinny dipping
• I learned how to drive a stick-shift car at Watervale
• The first time I was offered pot (I just said no)
• I first saw the Northern Lights at late one night on the beach at Watervale
• I learned how to sail at Watervale
• The Bulls started their six-peat as NBA champs during my summer on staff at Watervale
• My first weekend road trip alone was to Watervale
• I really learned to cook at Watervale - I baked bread daily and creme brulee weekly, in addition to my regular salad making responsibilities
• My first and best drive-in experiences happened at Watervale
• And so many more . . .

Watervale is about the simple things in life. The rooms don't have phones or tv's. In fact, there is 1 public phone in the whole resort and there are no televisions! My cell phone barely gets reception. There are no street lights polluting the beauty of the night sky. Meals are simple and amazing with everything being homemade from scratch with many ingredients coming from the herb garden and many more locally grown fruits and vegetables.

Watervale has been part of my family's summer for probably close to 60 years and loved by 4 generations of Gardner's.

So at long last, here is the song that started this wonderful trip down memory lane . . . Oh, and it turns out that it's not by a friend from Watervale. It's "All Summer Long" by Kid Rock.

It's Official: I'm Not Going to Watervale

A classic Watervale sunset over Lower Herring Lake.

I've been procrastinating officially making this announcement, but it simply can't wait any longer because I'm supposed to be headed to Watervale in less than 18 hours.

For a variety of reasons, I'm not going to Watervale this summer.

Yes, I know. I've spent at least part of every summer at Watervale for three-quarters of my life. That's right, I've been going to Watervale for 30 years. And I'm not going this year.

This summer has flown by and although I haven't been able to get away, I have had quite a bit of fun. An awesome Cubs game rooftop party on Memorial Day. A great dinner cruise on Lake Michigan on my birthday. Colbie Caillat and Gavin DeGraw concert at Ravinia. Kenny Loggins concert and fireworks in Lake Forest for the 4 of July. The Blues Brothers movie at Wrigley Field. An amazing evening at Place de la Musique where I even rode the carousel! James Taylor concert at Ravinia. Fabulous lunches, dinners, and movies with friends. This weekend I'm going to the Roy Lichtenstein exhibit at the Art Institute and next weekend I'm hoping to see Tony Bennett at Ravinia.

It's been a good summer. But it won't feel complete because it lacks Watervale. Watervale is my touchstone. It brings me back to me. I arrive stressed out and leave rejuvenated. I sleep. I read. I write. I swim. I hike. I play in the surf of Lake Michigan. I lay on the beach and let sand run through my fingers. I drink wine with friends. I watch sunsets. I kayak. I stay up late hoping to see the Northern Lights. I count the meteors I see each night during the Perseids Meteor Shower. I swing on the swings. I eat good food.

So why am I saying all of this tonight? Am I complaining? No. I'll take a vacation later this fall, but it won't be the same as going to Watervale in August.

I'm writing this tonight because I need your help.

How can you help? I'm glad you asked.

You can . . .

• hike Baldy
• watch the sunset
• swim to BooHoo
• kayak daily
• play in the surf
• see a movie at the Cherry Bowl Drive-In or at the Garden Theater
• savor the creme brûlée
• read, sleep, write
• drink wine
• lay on the beach
• stay up in hopes of seeing the Northern Lights or the Perseids Meteor Shower
• enjoy an extra piece of John Hultman's Honey Oatmeal Bread for me (preferably toasted with cherry jam and no butter)
• hug your Watervale friends and family for me
• tell ghost stories about the Watervale Woman
• visit Sleeping Bear Dunes

You can also do one more thing for me . . . send me some Watervale Mail.  That's right. Fill my snail mail box with Watervale postcards. Need my address? Ask my dad for it or send me a message on Facebook and I'll send it to you.

Above all else, savor your time at Watervale for all the poor souls (like me) who can't be there this year or who have never experienced it for themselves.

Watervale All Summer Long

It's this time of the year more than any other time that I get homesick, or maybe vacation-sick is more accurate, for Watervale.

I actually start counting the days until I can just go lay on the beach uninterrupted save for the sounds of the waves, seagulls, and my thoughts. For as extroverted as I am, I need that time to just go and be. To read books, sleep, lay on the beach, kayak, drink wine, hike, star gaze, and talk only when I absolutely must. I leave my watch at home. I have no alarm clock. I get no cell phone reception. There is no tv or wi-fi. It's Heaven.

I didn't get to Watervale last year because I had to go back to Florida, so it's been close to 2 years since I last saw a Watervale Sunset™.

Dave and I were talking tonight and I felt especially vacation-sick for Watervale, so I decided I needed a photo album of Watervale memories. Enjoy.

Oh, and for the record, there are 163 days left until Watervale.



I'm also including the video of James Taylor's Carolina In My Mind, which always reminds me of Watervale. The audio and video are a little off, but I love this live version for than any other version. I especially love the backstory. Again, it reminds me of Watervale.


On further thought (after hitting publish), All Summer Long by Kid Rock reminds me of Watervale even more. Kid Rock really nailed the essence of Watervale in my teens and 20s. In fact, the first time I heard it, I was driving home from getting a massage one night and I was convinced that the singer was someone intimatelyl familiar with Watervale. I couldn't believe it was Kid Rock until I remembered he was from Michigan. I called Dave on my cell phone after the song was over and all excitedly asked if he'd ever heard this song and was it someone from Watervale singing. Once he got over being woken up, he laughed at me and said it was Kid Rock, All Summer long was all over the Northern Michigan radio stations, and frankly, he was a bit sick of it and it was only March. I never tire of this song and video, which is also almost exactly what Watervale looks like.

So I changed the title of my blog post.

Watervale Mail!

You'll never guess what I received yesterday from my friend Shari! Watervale Mail!!! Yay!

Okay, okay. I suppose the title of this post did give it away. Trust me, just because the title gave it away does not diminish the value of Watervale Mail.

You'll recall that a little over a week ago, I posted about how I couldn't go to Watervale this year and made a plea for my friends and family to not only have an extra great time for me (I even gave them a custom Watervale To Do List), but I also requested Watervale Mail in an effort to ease my pain.

Shari came through. She sent me the best letter I've received in ages and it sounds like she had an incredible time.

This is the card Shari sent me. It's a picture of the Outlet looking North to Frankfort.

During Shari's three weeks at Watervale, she hiked Baldy, watched the sunset, canoed to BooHoo and swam from the Point to the Millsite, water skied a couple of times each week, played in the surf, savored the creme brûlée, read, slept, wrote, drank wine, laid on the beach, stayed up to watch the Perseids, enjoyed Honey Oatmeal bread at dinner and toast with blackberry jam at breakfast, hugged many family members and friends, told ghost stories about the Farmhouse, visited Sleeping Bear Dunes. I think she also biked the Betsie Trail to Beulah and around Upper Herring Lake, had a beach fire and at s'mores, hung out at the Outlet (that's not a mall for the uninitiated), climbed BooHoo, hiked Green Point Dunes, and visited the Upper Herring Nature Preserve.

She was busy. No wonder she needs 3 weeks. Maybe I can do some of that when I do the Lake Michigan Circle Tour in October.

Even though I was at home, I had a great week too.

It started with a mani-pedi on Friday. Sunday shifted into high gear when I spent an awesome day with my friend Vincent at the Art Institute's Roy Lichtenstein exhibit, lunched at the Park Grill, had my breath taken away with one of the best secret views of the city, and enjoyed a day full of phenomenal conversation about many topics, including his new play, Venus Envy. Monday evening I attended my condo association board meeting. It was 2 1/2 hours. In the middle of it, my dad sent me a text message saying he was watching a Watervale sunset and my brother called to rub it in. They obviously love me. My work week was filled with alumni events and work lunches. On Thursday, my department enjoyed a summer outing to Arlington Park and I stopped to visit my mom. Finally, last night, I was seranaded by Tony Bennett at Ravinia with my friend Robert and a few thousand of our closest friends. The Chicago Tribune and I agree that he nailed it.

Take a look at my week. I think you'll agree it was terrific.

All in all, a solid week, although to paraphrase myself, the worst week at Watervale still beats the best week at home. At least I've got Watervale Mail to help get me through the next few months. Thanks Shari!

Watervale Was on the Today Show!

The Inn at Watervale, from the internet.

In case you missed it, Watervale was on the Today Show on Friday.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

I think they did a pretty good job (although I don't think I've ever seen anyone rowboating - I'm just saying), but missed most of the highlights about what makes Watervale so amazing for me.

When you're at Watervale, you can enjoy:

• bike riding (bring your bikes);
• hiking for every fitness level through beautiful woods, up Baldy and BooHoo, and along the beach;
• swimming in Lower Herring Lake (small lake without undertow or waves - great for kids) or Lake Michigan;
• kayaking (you can rent kayaks or bring your own);
• sailing (you can rent sailboats or bring your own);
• beautiful sunsets you won't even see in Hawaii (yes, I've been to Hawaii and I believe Watervale sunsets are far superior);
• playing in the sand dunes;
• reading (I typically go through 6-7 books in a week, but if you have kids you probably won't);
  
• tennis (bring your rackets and tennis balls);
• shuffle board;
• volleyball;
• Bingo (on Thursdays, if I remember correctly);
• Hayrides (on Wednesdays after the BBQ);
• card games (there's almost always a game of Hearts or Pinochle going on in the Inn);
• board games (my family has an annual Trivial Pursuit tournament - guess who has the most trivial knowledge?);
  
• peace and quiet (There are no TVs, no WiFi, and only 1 landline phone in the entire resort. You can certainly bring your cell phone, but you'll probably have poor reception.);
• some of the best star gazing and meteor shower watching (if you're there in early August, you can't help but see the Perseid Meteor Showers) anywhere (there's no need for a telescope, but if you have one, it will only enhance your experience);
• actual darkness at night because of the lack of city lights;
• naps; and
  
• a few other things, but this is a family blog, so I'll stop now.
  

To be honest, there is no need to leave Watervale, but if you must, here are some of my other favorite things to do:

• Sleeping Bear National Dunes;
  
• wonderful public golf courses;
• antiquing;
• Traverse City or the Leelanau Peninsula;
  
• Putt-putt golfing;
  
• Cherry Bowl Drive-In that always shows kid-friendly movies;
• movies at the Garden Theater in Frankfort;
  
• lunch at The Cherry Hut, The Fushion or Dinghy's;
• dancing at The Cabbage Shed or Big Apple;
  
• shopping at Gwen Frostic's, C&M Rock Shop, Myers Granary, Olsen-Sayles, or the Book Store;
• a concert at Interlochen; and
• ice cream at The Cool Spot

To paraphrase one of my favorite lines from Field of Dreams, "Is this Heaven? No, it's Watervale."

Watervale Reads 2008

A large part of Watervale for me is reading. Without the distractions of home and work, I almost read more in 7 days than I do the entire rest of the year. I always bring a huge stack of books – usually 7-10. And I read them all cover to cover. Mostly political, historical, and current events books. I don’t really do the “beach read” type books. They just aren’t my style. I prefer something more along the lines of House of Bush, House of Saud (a book I read at Watervale 4 summers ago). I spend most of the summer carefully selecting my Watervale Reads and eagerly anticipate that moment when I can crack open the spine of the first book.

This year was different, however. Despite having my books pre-selected as always, I left home with only two of them - the third and fourth books from The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series. Knowing I would run out of books by Tuesday, I went to the tiny bookstore in Frankfort, conveniently called The Book Store, (there is no Borders or Barnes and Nobles anywhere around), where I had a difficult time finding just the right political tomes for my Watervale Reads. In fact, I could only find one I hadn’t read, Dreams From My Father, which is how I ended up with American House. The good news is I’ve already got my Watervale Books 2009 picked out and ready to go.

This is the final list of Watervale Reads 2008.

Girls in Pants – The Third Summer of the Sisterhood by Ann Brashares
Forever in Blue: The Fourth Summer of the Sisterhood by Ann Brashares
American House by Deryl D. Holmes
Dreams From My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance by Barack Obama

The Sisterhood books are part of a charming series of books written for today's young women. They focus on the lifelong friendships of 4 girls during their high school and early college years. The girls think of themselves as sisters and face the challenge of their first summer apart, in the first novel. Despite the 20 year difference between me and the main characters, I found myself reminiscing about my own friendships and the friends I have thought of as my sisters. Now I'm ready to see the movie.

American House is the first effort by Deryl D. Holmes and tells the fictional story of American House Hotel in South Frankfort, Michigan. Part of what I thoroughly enjoyed about this book was how much the author incorporated the real history of the Frankfort, Michigan area. Today, South Frankfort is known as Elberta, Michigan. Unfortunately, this book can't be found on Amazon or anywhere on the web.

Dreams From My Father was originally published in 1995, shortly after Barack Obama graduated from Harvard Law School. During his years at Harvard, he was elected the first African-American editor of the Harvard Law Review, which garnered him a great deal of press interest and a publisher asked him to write a book. Dreams From My Father is that book. Although I drank the Barack Obama Kool-Aid long before there was any to drink, I had never read Dreams From My Father and I am surprised at how much new insight I have gained into our next President.

Adventures in Kayaking

Somewhere along the lines, I developed an odd fear of the water. I say it's an odd fear because I was born in Florida and to hear my mom tell it, I could swim before I could walk. I loved swimming in the Gulf of Mexico or Lower Herring Lake or Lake Michigan at Watervale or the pool or the Atlantic Ocean while in the Bahamas. I had no fears at all back then. Water above my head? No problem. Dive into the deep end of the pool? Easy. Nothing bothered me. Just stick me in the water and I was a happy child.

But at some point, that stopped. I still loved swimming in pools, but I suddenly wanted nothing to do with the ocean or lakes at Watervale. And so I didn't. I don't know if it started when I started having problems seeing and needed glasses as a teenager, except I know the summer I worked at Watervale I spent a great deal of free time in the lakes. I just don't know.

So yesterday morning, when Dave suggested at breakfast that we go kayaking since it was my last day at Watervale, my initial answer was a firm no. Part of my resistance I'm certain came from my belief that I couldn't do it. Dave is super athletic and I'm not. And although I used to be a very strong swimmer, I'm not anymore. But Dave continued to pester me about it.

Finally, I asked "Will I end up in the lake?" thinking this would get him off my back because the obvious answer was "of course!" and that would be the end of it. But Dave, knowing when it's better to simply tell me what I want to hear, said "No, of course not. You'll be fine." And off we went.

All settled into my kayak with a life jacket secure around me, we were off to the Boo-Hoo sand dune and then to the Outlet and maybe Lake Michigan. About 1/3 of the way to Boo-Hoo, I lost my balance in the kayak and flipped into the water. At that point, the lake is about 25 feet deep and all I cared about was not losing my sunglasses, contacts, or the oar. I swallowed a bunch of water and came up coughing and struggling to catch my breath. Dave was within inches of me in his kayak and I had my life preserver on, so I was pretty safe, despite my flailing around as though I was drowning.

Once I calmed down and caught my breath, I realized my oar was less than 6 inches away from me and it floats and my sunglasses had remained on my face. I wasn't so certain about my contacts, however, as one seemed to be missing. I asked Dave if he would hop in the lake and find it, but he said no. Luckily, it had simply moved in my eye and quickly rearranged itself so I could see.

After about 5 minutes of futile attempts at getting back in the kayak that only resulted in numerous bruises all over my calves, Dave agreed to tow me back to shore, where I could easily get back in my kayak because I could stand.

Without further incident, we made it to Boo Hoo and then around to the Outlet, where I discovered a dam I had long ago forgotten. Dave soared right over the dam with ease and with his instruction, I was certain I could too. Recalling that the water rides at Great America were my favorite (and only ones I would go on), I figured this would be no more difficult.

I centered my kayak to aim for the deepest point of the dam, but ended up beached just to one side. Dave walked out and helped me get unstuck and realigned, and over the dam I went. Except that my kayak and I separated and I ended up back in the water. But I was determined.

I dragged my kayak to shore, walked it around the dam, got back in, centered myself for the deepest point and off I went. This time, I wound up stuck just to the left, but with Dave's help, I was easily realigned. Over the dam I went and again flipped my kayak. Take three. This time, Dave is laughing hysterically as I again got lined up and again flipped the kayak. But I was insistent that I would not return to Watervale until I had conquered this dam, which was all of about an 18 inch drop.

Dave had a different idea. He suggested that I give it a rest and we head out to Lake Michigan, kayak there for a little while and upon our return, I give the dam another try. So off we went.

We got about 20 feet out into Lake Michigan, when we discovered, much to our surprise, the air temperature on Lake Michigan was easily 15 degrees cooler than on Lower Herring and the water was probably in the low 50s. Dave suggested we head back (before I end up in the water) because it was too cold. As we arrived back at the Lake Michigan shore, I got caught in a wave and got dumped in the water. Luckily, the water was only about 6 inches deep, but the ground was very rocky and as I was standing up, I got pushed over by another wave and bloodied up my knees.

We made our way back through the Outlet toward the dam, which I was hell-bent on defeating. On my 4th and final try, I made it over successfully and then we kayaked back to Watervale where I laid in the sun for a couple of hours. Unfortunately, once I walked my kayak back around the dam and got in on Lower Herring Lake, rather than sitting in the seat, my butt landed on the side of the kayak and I now have a huge bruise on my ass.

I've never thought of myself as a rough and tumble girl because I've always been very girly and feminine. But I'm proud of all my bruises and scrapes. I wear them with honor. I also learned that kayaking is a blast, not nearly as difficult as I'd imagined, and the worst that can happen is I get a little wet. Once I was acclimated to the water, it actually felt good to be a fish again. Maybe I should start swimming laps at my local pool. I only wish I'd discovered all this earlier in the week. The good news is there's only 52 more weeks until Watervale 2009 and I will kayak everyday next year.

The Watervale Man

Watervale guests are known for their creativity and devotion to Watervale, so it was truly a matter of time before someone wrote a song. A friend of mine posted this video to Facebook a few weeks ago and I thought I'd wait to post it to LMS until I was at Watervale.

This song and video really do give you a good idea of what Watervale is all about and why I love it so much, so make sure you watch the video. Honestly, if you're reading this via email and the video didn't come through, visit LMS to watch it.

Watervale Easter 2010

It's been almost 2 years since I was last at Watervale. I didn't go last summer because it was right after Nana died and I needed to spend some time with my mom, so I went back to Florida instead. For some unknown reason, I haven't even taken any long weekends at Watervale, which seems crazy since Dave lives there. Knowing that I needed to get away for a few days, Dave suggested I come up a couple weeks ago. Unfortunately, I got sick that weekend, so I postponed until Easter weekend. That turned out to be the right move since it was about 80 the first two days I was there! It was glorious, to say the least. (Read earlier posts about the weekend here and here).

While there, I finished Eat Pray Love and read Sarah's Key. I spent hours simply sitting in silence, thinking about nothing. I napped. I listened to NPR. I relaxed with a girlfriend getting pedicures. I drank wine. I slept in peace and quiet for 8 solid hours. I tried to count the stars, but settled for marveling in awe at their splendor. I hiked Baldy. Thanks to Netflix, I watched 30 Rock and The Office, both of which I've never seen.

Dave and I spent Easter dinner with about 50 friends from Watervale, both agreeing it was the nicest Easter we've ever had. Monday night, we enjoyed a quiet dinner with 3 friends and participated in their Monday evening ritual of watching 24. Why have I never seen this show?

It was the perfect long weekend and exactly what I needed. Even though I've been home for two days now, all I want to do is go back. August can't get here fast enough.

Note to anyone planning a trip to Watervale this summer: Remember to pack the bug spray. The mosquitos were already out in force.

Watervale To Do List

Someone asked me today what I do while I'm at Watervale, so I rattled off my Watervale To Do List and thought I'd give you a peek too:

1. Read. I'm taking 5 books: The Help by Kathryn Stockett, True Compass: A Memoir by Ted Kennedy, Best Friends by Martha Moody, Conservatives Without Conscience by John Dean, and The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin.
2. Swim. I'm going to swim from the dock at the Inn to BooHoo (a very large sand dune, although not as high as Baldy). It's only 325 yards (0.18 miles), but it's in water where I can neither see the bottom nor touch the bottom. I'll probably swim back. I may also climb BooHoo while I'm there.
3. Kayak. I'm going to kayak from the dock at the Inn to the Outlet like I did in 2008.
4. Hike Baldy. Click here for the most recent Baldy hike story and pictures.
5. Sleep on the beach.
6. Watch sunsets.
7. Watch the Perseid Meteor Showers.
8. Hopefully see the Northern Lights.
9. Hang out with friends and family.
10. Drink some wine.

As you can see, it will be a very busy week. Before I can begin to really think about my Watervale To Do List, I have to get through this week's to do list, which is far longer.

I've got some blog posts in the works, but it may be a couple of days. Don't go anywhere.

Bucket List Item #61: Swim to BooHoo!

First, let me say that we need t-shirts for those of us who swim to BooHoo*. You know, like the t-shirts people have that say "I Survived the Bush Administration 2001-2009." Well, okay, not exactly like that. Swimming to BooHoo is a good thing, but you get the idea. Swimming to BooHoo is also hard work; don't listen to the folks who say it isn't. They lie.

You may recall that in my Watervale To Do List, item number 2 on my list was "swim from the dock at the Inn to BooHoo." It's also item number 61 on my Bucket List. From my very safe seat in my kitchen, this seemed like an easy and fun idea. When I arrived at Watervale and looked across the lake, however, I began to question my sanity (please keep your comments on this matter to yourself, thank you). It was much further than I remembered it and certainly appeared to be much further than the 328 yards (0.18 miles) I had heard it was. In fact, it looked to be about 10 miles. Depending on where you plan to arrive, it's actually about 1/4 mile to The Point and more than that (but less than 1/2 mile) to BooHoo. I asked Jennie and she'd know, so those numbers are as close to official as you can get.

The Point. About 1/4 mile from the dock.
(Taken from the dock with the zoom lens).

See that little sand peeking out from the trees? That's the bottom of BooHoo. Between 1/4 and 1/2 mile from the dock.
(Taken from the dock with the zoom lens).

I'm standing on the beach looking at The Point and at BooHoo. See, it's really really far - probably about 10 miles.

By Wednesday, I had worked up some of the nerve to attempt my swim and Dave agreed to spot me in the kayak, but I still wasn't sure. I had been a pretty strong swimmer as a kid, but somewhere along the way, I developed a slight fear of water that was not chlorinated or see-through and more than 12 feet deep. Lower Herring Lake definitely does not fit into that category and is 50 feet deep where I planned to swim. But I'd been talking up my swim all day, had tweeted about it and had told all of you I'd be swimming to BooHoo, so I felt some obligation to at least give it a shot. If I died or quit midway there, at least I would have tried.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared. I was. I wasn't convinced I could make it without Dave pulling me a good part of the way and, of course, I had a small worry that I'd drown. About an hour before my scheduled departure time, my dad suddenly announced he didn't think I could swim across the lake. My already fragile confidence took a nose dive, especially since he said it in front of friends who'd been trying to build me up. Continuing his monologue about why I shouldn't even attempt to swim across the lake because I wasn't my brother (the super athlete), I finally turned to my dad and said "How would you know? You never let me play sports when I was a kid. I have to do this. I'm tired of living life on the sidelines and in Dave's shadow." It felt good to stand up to my father, something I rarely do.

This swim was about so much more than just swimming. It was about me overcoming fears, stepping outside of my comfort zone, proving I could achieve my goal, discovering that maybe I do have untapped athletic ability and living life fully.

I got in the water and after about 10 minutes of hemming and hawing, I was off. Most of my friends make this swim in far less than 30 minutes. It took me an hour. I'd swim awhile and then need to stop and rest. I'm not really sure how much resting I did though since I tread water the entire time. I did hold onto Dave's kayak a few times, but he never towed me. I'd just tread water and we'd talk about whatever popped into my mind. Then after a few minutes, I'd start swimming again.

The funniest part of the swim came when a woman on a paddle board almost took my head off. I was treading water, chatting with Dave, when all the sudden this paddle board ran into me. We all laughed as I darted out of the way, but Dave said he had seen it coming for a few minutes. . . the two slowest things in the lake were drawn together like magnets.

Finally, I arrived at BooHoo on my own power (as opposed to being towed in by Dave). About 50 feet from shore I had a slight panic when I developed a cramp in my chest. I stopped swimming and breathed through it until I could swim again and then I finished. The important thing is that I made it without drowning or being decapitated. I heard the song Gonna Fly Now in my head as I emerged victorious from the lake. I think I even may have imitated Rocky on the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, but I can't be sure because it's still a little fuzzy. All I know for certain is that the grin on my face and pride in my accomplishment hasn't yet been wiped off my face.

Below is a self-drawn picture of my swim. As you can see, my internal GPS was a bit faulty and I swam way out of my way. But I did it. I wish I could say I swam back, but I didn't. I took Dave's kayak and suggested he walk or swim. He chose to walk. Next year my goal is to swim both ways in under an hour.

Click on the picture to be taken to a clearer and larger version.
Yes, I'm a natural artist. Thank you for noticing.

*BooHoo is a sand dune just across the Lower Herring Lake from the Inn at Watervale and on the way to the Outlet (the Outlet being the place where Lower Herring Lake feeds into Lake Michigan). I believe that it's officially part of Watervale property, but I'm not 100% certain. It's my understanding that BooHoo got its name from Vera Noble who, as a child would climb the face of the dune and would cry as she climbed from the sand burning her feet. Although from the dock, BooHoo is difficult to see because of the trees that have grown around it, here's a picture of what it looks like from White Owl Road.

Special thanks for believing in my ability to swim to BooHoo goes out to one of my Forever Friends who sent me a text telling me that he believed in me and knew I could swim to BooHoo. His words stayed in my head for the entire swim and kept me going when I wanted to quit or thought I was about to drown.

I'm Back

Watervale was spectacular. I relaxed and enjoyed just being for a few days. I tried to stay out of touch, but I couldn't. I even managed to do 9 of the 10 things on my Watervale To Do List and the one thing I didn't do was entirely out of my control. Frankly, I'm surprised I couldn't get the Universe to cooperate and give me some Northern Lights, but I couldn't. I also didn't see the Perseid Meteor Showers, but I did sit up and watch the stars a couple of night, so that counts.

I'll write about my trip in the next couple of days. Believe me, I've got quite the tale of personal triumph to tell.

So stay tuned and tighten your seatbelt. I'm going to have quite the adventure on Sunday and I can't wait to share it with you!

In the meantime, go read the posts I wrote while I was gone . . . Breaking Boy News: A Review, Watervale 2010 Soundtrack, and The House That Built My Mom.

Pure Michigan...Sand

On my way to the vet with Betsey tonight, I heard a Pure Michigan ad on the radio and, as they almost always do, it brought tears to my eyes. I don't know if I'm just overly tired from working late 2 nights, Birthapalooza celebrated over 3 nights, and a Lake Forest College alumni Architectural Boat Cruise last night or if I'm just missing Watervale, but as soon as they said those magic words "Pure Michigan," I got all teary.

A little while later, as I was waiting on the doctor to bring Betsey back to me after performing various tests, I was checking Facebook on my phone and discovered that my friend Christie from Watervale had placed this amazing Pure Michigan "Sand" ad on her Facebook page.

Just what I needed in that moment.

The beach and the sand and the water bring me peace. Digging my toes in the sand, listening to the waves crash, and feeling the sun beat down on my skin is better than any form of therapy I could possibly find. Watching the ad, I was instantly taken to Watervale. Even if it was only for 30 seconds, those were the most peaceful 30 seconds of my day.

Enjoy.



Because I love you, here's another brilliant Pure Michigan ad, Perfect Summer.

Runners Get "Runners High," But What Do Swimmers Get?

Whatever the swimming equivalent is to "Runner's High," I experienced for the very first time today in the pool.

It was kind of strange really. You'd think I might have experienced it last week when I was at Watervale and swimming across Lower Herring Lake. You remember the saga from last year. Last year, I struggled physically and in my head to swim from the dock to BooHoo. It took me an hour just to get there and then I had to kayak back. Last year, I couldn't swim a straight line to save my life. Rather than swim from Points A to B, I swam it via points Q, R, and S. That is to say, I swam completely out of my way...multiple times. Although Dave didn't have to pull me in the kayak, I did have to stop a lot and hold onto the kayak while I caught my breath and tread water.

This year, I swam to BooHoo like a champ. Rather than taking an hour to get there, I swam round trip in an hour. Round. Trip. In other words, I swam each way in 30 minutes or half the time it took last year! Swimming round trip to BooHoo in under an hour was a goal I'd set last year and I did it. And then I did it again two days later. On the first swim to BooHoo, I did have to stop and hang onto the kayak twice, but those times were only to de-fog my goggles. Thank goodness for my Watervale swimmer friend Craig who clued me in about licking the inside of my goggles to prevent fog. That man is brilliant. How no one else told me that previously is beyond me, but I digress. I didn't have to hold onto the kayak on the way home or on the second trip two days later.

Back to tonight. I hopped into the pool, licked my goggles, which, as it turned out, were full of Watervale sand and headed out. Let me just say that swimming in a lap pool no deeper than 5 feet, where I can see the bottom of the crystal clear, chlorinated water, and with stripes on the bottom and lane markers on either side felt like I was swimming with training wheels in comparison to the treacherous waters of Lower Herring Lake.

In the wild open waters of Lower Herring Lake, I bravely fought off speed boats, survived strong currents, huge waves, 50+ foot depths, an internal GPS that worked sometimes and was on the fritz the other times, the voices inside my head (and a rather unpleasant conversation with Dave once when I needed a break), the Lower Herring Lake Monster, and very uneven water temps. I even got cramps once. But I swam it. Round trip. Twice.

Tonight I powered through my swim with a new-found vigor. I swam with power and strength I didn't know I had. I even had speed that I've never had before. I cut 30% off my best time. The voices telling me I couldn't do it, that I'm weak and slow were gone. Instead, they were replaced with "How much faster/further can I go?" and "I'm done? Oh crap. I could go another 15 minutes or so. Too bad there's a bunch of people waiting." I ran into the wall a couple of times not because I wasn't paying attention, but because I thought the length of the pool was a whole lot longer than it actually is. In short, I felt exhilarated.

I can't wait to get in the pool tomorrow. And next year? I'm gonna swim round-trip to BooHoo each day in less than 45 minutes.

I Wish I May, I Wish I Might, Have the Wish I Wish Tonight

Picture from Telegraph.co.uk

Star Light Star bright,
The first star I see tonight,
I wish I may, I wish I might,
Have the wish I wish tonight.

Do you remember this Mother Goose Nursery Rhyme from when you were a kid? Do you remember wishing on falling stars?

I do. And I still make wishes upon stars. Maybe that sounds silly, but I do.

Usually, I wish upon the first star I see nightly at Watervale as I'm walking back from watching the sunset on the beach. Later at night, I have even more opportunities because I'm always there during the annual Perseid Meteor Showers. They usually run for about a month and seem to peak when I'm sitting on the dock or the beach at Watervale. This year, they peak tonight and tomorrow and although the moon is expected to be bright in most areas, National Geographic predicts that from anywhere in the world (!) you'll be able to see 80 meteors per hour during the peak hours (late tonight into the wee hours of Wednesday morning).

Unfortunately, I'm not at Watervale tonight, but I'll still be outside laying in the grass and watching these miracles of nature. It's truly one of my favorite events of the summer. And, of course, I'll be making some wishes. I have a long list waiting for a night like tonight.

Here's a timelapse video of the Perseid Meteor Showers. Watch closely. The quick flashes of light across the screen are the meteors.



And just in case you don't remember how to make a wish upon a star, here are some helpful tips:

1. Find the first star. As any child can tell you, it's not the brightest or best star you must wish on, it's the first one visible in the sky. Go outside at dusk and stare at the heavens. Stars appear quickly, so start your wish as soon as you see one--even if you suspect it might be a 747.
2. Stare intently at the wishing star. There's no need to feel embarrassed. Remember, you already know how to make a wish come true. Say the magic words we all learned as children aloud: "Star light, Star bright, the first Star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, Have the wish I wish tonight."
3. Close your eyes tightly as soon as you're done and silently make your wish as fast as you can. You must finish making your wish before any other stars appear in the sky. When you open your eyes, look for any other stars that may have appeared. If there aren't any, your wish is in the clear.
4. BELIEVE in your wish. When you wish upon a star, the star knows whether or not your wish is genuine. If you feel sheepish, or make a half-hearted wish, no one will hear it. Simply put, if you don't deserve your wish, it will never come true.

35 Days to Manifest My Dream

It took me just 35 days. Thirty-five days from the day I said I was going to climb Baldy again this summer to turn that dream/goal into reality.

You may recall my blog post on March 1st called "The Power of the Dream" in which I listed some of my personal dreams and goals. One of those goals was to climb Baldy again in August when I am at Watervale. Climbing Baldy is a feat and one that I don't undertake very often. For a variety of reasons, I hadn't climbed it since 2004, and to be honest, I wasn't sure I was in good enough physical shape to do it. So I had a plan to 2-3 miles a day or more from the beginning of March until I arrived at Watervale in August and that would give me the strength I needed to climb those last two hills and survive.

What I didn't count on was being at Watervale over Easter and Dave deciding that Easter morning would be as good of a time as any to tackle this goal. I can't tell you that I enthusiastically jumped on the idea on Sunday morning. Saturday had been spent in a slug-like manner involving NPR, beer, and a nap, followed by a relatively easy and short walk, a glorious sunset, and a fantastic Thai dinner at The Fusion, where we ate way too much. In fact, my initial response was something along the lines of "Hell no! Are you out of your mind?" He assured me he was dead serious and we were leaving momentarily, so I'd better find some clothes or I'd be going in my slippers and pj's.

We set off on our hike of death, which I'm fairly certain involved a plot to kill me so he could avoid paying me back for the trip to Costco, and all was fine as long as the ground was flat. Once the hills arrived, however, I became convinced this was no longer fun, in spite of the beauty of seeing nature come back to life after a long winter.

This is the sort of first big hill I hiked. But you can see how gentle the slope was, which made it pretty easy. I'd say this reflects about the first 2/3 of the hike.
This was the first major obstacle. Notice the incline. What made it tolerable, though, was the fact that it was pretty solid dirt covered with leaves, so my feet weren't sinking into anything.
Dave pretty much ran to the top, while I took my time, coughing my way to the top (I'm still recovering from a cold last week) and not sure my lungs, still filled with cold-ick, would hold out. Once I reached the top, I knew it was all uphill from here, with just a couple level places allowing me to catch my breath before the final two hills.

Before we get to those hills, I thought this tree was cool.
At this point, Dave assured me we're pretty close to the top and I was doing great, as I grew more convinced that he just remembered that I have life insurance and he's the beneficiary.

Not one to recoil from a challenge once I've committed to it, I stared down the 2nd to the last hill determined to show it who's boss (that'd be me . . . I hoped). You'll notice it's all sand at this point. You're probably thinking that it looks easy, but I assure you that looks are deceiving. This hill actually has about a 35 degree incline, according to Dave. You also don't really see how it curves to the left. What's tricky about this is the sand and how my feet were constantly sinking. That and there's really not much to grab onto for leverage.
When I was almost at the top, I turned around to document how far I'd come. I think you have a better appreciation of the challenge I faced.
But look at what I still had ahead of me. It's almost a vertical climb. I pondered how best to do this - in the summer, I'd take off my shoes and do it barefoot, but the sand is still cold and a bit damp, so that seems unlikely. The other question was would I be able to remain vertical and not climb using my hands.
Dave was patiently waiting at the top with the bottles of water and Gatorade, so I had no choice but to take a deep breath and get up that hill.

I'm proud to tell you that I did remain upright, although I did grab hold of the tree you see on the left to keep my balance. Now, at this point, you'd think you'd be finished. That you'd reached the top. And you'd be wrong.

I always forget about what comes next: the last hill, which entirely sand without the benefit of trees or roots in the sand to give you footing. To say it is hellish is an understatement. This hill makes my calves and thighs burn like nothing I've ever experienced. Actually, I liken it to what I've heard childbirth is like - more painful than anything in the world, but you miraculously forget the pain so you do it again.
The good news is that you do have about 50 yards to catch your breath before you tackle the last hill. As you see above, there are actually two paths. We always take the one on the left. It takes you to the top of Baldy. The one on the right takes you around it. Dave offered me the option, but since I don't back down from a fight, I said I was going to tough it out and take the path on the left. I handed Dave my camera so that if I lost my balance, I wouldn't ruin it and he sprinted to the top leaving me to fend for myself. I wouldn't have it any other way.

I'm proud to tell you that I survived. And not only did I survive, but I conquered. I made it about 3/4 the way up the last hill, which is about 50 feet tall with at least a 35 degree incline, on my feet and without using my hands. I finally gave in and used my hands to assist me in the climb until my feet gave out and I literally crawled the last 7-8 feet on my hands and knees.
When I reached the top, I will tell you I had tears in my eyes. I really didn't think I could climb this dune, but I did. I accomplished, what I believed to be the impossible. I'll never run the Chicago Marathon, but I'm really proud to have conquered this challenge. Climbing Baldy always reminds me that I can do anything I set my mind to and that if I just pace myself and keep putting one foot in front of the other, I'll get there eventually. Climbing Baldy isn't about competing with anyone else or caring what anyone else thinks. It's about me and pushing myself beyond what I think I can do.

And here was my reward. That's Lower Herring Lake on the right and Lake Michigan on the left. In my humble opinion, it's the best view in all of Michigan.
Oh, and as for the pain and huffing and puffing involved in hiking Baldy, it's all forgotten the instant I turn around and see this view. You can bet I'll be back up Baldy in August. And in the meantime, I'll be walking a lot so it hurts less. I almost forgot, it turns out that Dave wasn't trying to kill me after all. He just has more faith in me than I have sometimes. And for that, I'm grateful beyond words.

I wonder what else I can manifest in just 35 short days . . .

Next Year's Watervale Goal: Climb Baldy at Night

The view from the top of Baldy would be 1000 times better than this.

Over the last few years, as I am planning my Watervale trip, I have developed the habit of challenging myself physically. In 2004, I climbed Baldy for the first time in almost 15 years. In 2008, I learned to kayak and kayaked from Lower Herring Lake through the Outlet and over the dam to Lake Michigan and back. This year, I climbed Baldy and swam to BooHoo. Accomplishing each of these goals makes me truly proud and confident in myself.

And now, thanks to my friend Benny Jay*, who I have known for close to 20 years because he and his family have the great sense to vacation at Watervale, I know what I'm going to do next summer . . . I'm going to climb Baldy at night.

Benny Jay's daughters climbed Baldy one night while we were there. (Go read about their adventure here). Now, I will grant you, these amazing women are half my age and they run Baldy everyday, but I can do this too.

I've always wanted to climb Baldy at night, but never really let myself entertain the thought for more than a few fleeting moments because I didn't think I could. But that's the benefit of making the decision to do it now: I've got 11 months to get into shape for it and all the exercise will help me in my plan to lose weight before I turn 40 (see Bucket List Item #22).

I can only imagine the sight of a sky with a full 360 degree view of stars without the glare of lights or trees blocking the way. Maybe I'll see some shooting stars or even the Northern Lights.

Plus, I think that climbing Baldy at night may be a terrific way to celebrate my 40th birthday.

*Benny Jay is the best writer in Chicago. Seriously. He keeps all the politicians on their toes with his work for The Reader and his exposure of Mayor Daley's favorite slush fund: TIFs. In his spare time writes for the second best blog in the city, The Third City. If you're not already doing so, you should read Benny Jay's work every day.

A Friend Died

I'm headed to Watervale in the morning. I was supposed to be there today, but I spent the day following up on all the leads I got at The Mane Event last night. Although I hated missing a day of vacation, I will benefit from the work I did today for years to come.

Watervale is a place where time has stood still. There is one phone in the entire resort. No internet access. No tv. Cell phone service is sketchy. Heck, the rooms don't even have keys to the doors. There is nothing to do, unless you can entertain yourself and survive without all the modern conveniences. Families spend time hiking, biking, canoeing, playing tennis, fishing, and hanging out on the beach during the day. Nights are filled with board games, cards, reading, the drive-in, beach fires, staying up late hoping to see the Northern Lights and watching the Perseids Meteor Showers. The only air conditioning is provided by Mother Nature.

The thing about this trip is that I spend the week with the same families I've been seeing this week for as long as I can remember and although we are vacation friends I keep in touch with some of them all year long.

My dad called an hour ago to find out my estimated time of departure and in the course of our conversation told me that my friend Julia died. I was stopped in my tracks. She was 24 or 25 and I've known her most of her life. Her family is one of my favorites and and she was a newlywed, having gotten married last year in Israel. She was a shining light of a young woman.

I don't know all the details, but my dad said she went to the hospital with a non-life threatening illness, developed an infection that spread to her lungs and she died.

Watervale won't be the same without her and I will miss her.

Summer 2009: The Summer of Our Discontent

I love Summer. It is my favorite season. I love going to outdoor concerts, packing a picnic lunch and eating in the park, long walks, the sand between my toes at Watervale, starry nights, sleeping with the windows open, BBQs with friends, and the overall relaxed atmosphere of Summer.

But somehow, Summer 2009 has come and gone faster than the blink of an eye. Yesterday was Memorial Day; today is the 4th of July; and tomorrow is Labor Day. Except I know that we've had a little over 3 months since Memorial Day.

The weather has been unusual with August nights in the 40s when we should have been experiencing the Dog Days of Summer. We've had more rain and clouds than I can remember. I think I've turned the air conditioning on for a total of one week and I even seriously contemplated turning on the heat one night last week. Heck, I never even got my garden planted.

Yes, this summer has been most unusual. Immediately after Memorial Day, Mom called with the news that Nana wasn't expected to live through the night and I walked on eggshells every moment for the next month until the final call came saying Nana was with God.

So I guess I understand why this summer has been non-existent for me. I've been to Florida three times since July and skipped Watervale. I've worked in spurts when I could, but constantly feel like I'm starting and stopping. I've been physically present for my Chamber and LFC Board meetings and conference calls, although I don't think that I've contributed anything. I can't really remember the last fun thing I did, except I have this vague recollection that there were some truly wonderful moments around my birthday and in the midst of all my sadness and stress. I feel utterly detached from life.

The truly crazy thing about the Summer of 2009 though is that I'm not the only one for whom this has been a crazy upside down and inside out Summer. It seems that every time I turn around many of my friends are experiencing their own personal crises, whether its relationships ending, family members dying, losing a job, finding out they have cancer or some other illness, or one of a number of other traumas. There's something in the air this Summer that has rocked all of our worlds to the core.

My hope and prayer is that with the impending change of seasons, we can officially all bid farewell to the tragedies and pain that has afflicted our lives this summer and find the opportunities that lie before us. May the Summer of our Discontent be over and may Fall bring with it peace, contentment, and joy for each one of us.