Eight Point Lake, Pt. VII

 (contd.)

A not-at-all scenic shot of the lake in the morning hours.  Looks kinda Victorian London, honestly.

Ava and Alayna, killing time in the morning doing make-up in the sun room.

Later on in the morning, the sun came back and managed to burn off all the fog and clouds.  Abby had expressed interest in trying her hand at wakeboarding, so Bryan and Brian took her out to the Sandbar to help her learn how to stand up in the water with it.

Bryan was a really good coach throughout this whole process.  He started by yanking her up on the board with the rope himself until she learned how to thrust her body upright as she came out of the water.

Now Brian pulled her with a long length of rope to simulate what it would be like being pulled behind the boat.  They did this a dozen or so times until she had it down.

We were very grateful they took the time to walk her through this - there would have been no way I could have helped her figure this out (wakeboarding being considerably out of my skill wheelhouse.)

Putting the boat into the equation.  While in the depths right off the edge of the Sandbar, Brian would gun the boat and yank Abby out of the water while Bryan helped her up.

It took quite a few times before she managed to get it.

I've uploaded all the short video takes (Kris was on video while I handled the SLR) of her attempts, so I apologize if they're excessive in quantity - I'm lazy and didn't feel like screening every, single one.

Almost there. . .

Aaaaaaand. . . .

She finally got it.

She was pretty hesitant to stand all the way up at first, but she eventually got herself there.

On the struggle bus.

We probably spent an hour or so doing this, but she got the hang of it fast - everyone was impressed.

Eating it once again.  She hit the water hard quite a few times, but you couldn't keep this kid down.

After mastering the wakeboard, Abby decided to take a break and we all headed back over to the Sandbar to hang out for a bit and take it easy.

They attempted to play volleyball for awhile, but that didn't last too long.

The older girls weren't really feeling the water anymore.  We had to get back to Midland in the evening in order to get the girls ready for an upcoming Mission Trip with Kris' church (to scenic f***ing Cincinnati, Ohio.)  Meanwhile, Yours Truly was scheduled to resume Cabin Counselor duties at this year's Junior High Camp at the old Sanford Campground - something I haven't done in like three years.

The bored teenager ventures out to further bug her parents.

The always-popular Sandbar. . .

Ava and the Cannonball

Brian and Kris, not really playing volleyball.

Bradley and Bryan

Chelsey and Jill

After an hour or so at the Sandbar, the day was starting to get away from us, and - despite not wanting to leave the gorgeous lake and our family in the slightest - we had to head back and hit the road.  Definitely sucked having to leave the good times for boring-ass responsibilities like packing, house-cleaning, etc.

Leaving the Sandbar

We decided to squeeze one, last tubing venture in on our way back to the lakehouse - just long enough to beat the shit out of these three a few more times.

Down they go again.

And so concludes another weekend up at Eight Point Lake.  Not our last foray out there this summer - not by a long shot - but the last for a few weeks, to be sure.  We've got a few, big other events coming down the pipeline that we'll have to tackle first - our annual camping trip up to Jellystone with our infamous Midland Friend Group, Brocation 2022, etc.  Stay classy, America - we'll see ya next time.

- Brian

Lemonade from Lemons, Pt. II

(contd.)

Friday

July 22nd

"Fishing, Tubing, and Wrecking Boats"

Strangely enough, despite however late I end up going to bed, I'm still the first one up. Which means I get to have a cup of coffee and enjoy this while other people are still asleep.

Since Brian and Jill were back in Clare, I had promised the boys that I would take them fishing at the butt-crack of dawn.  Dad was going to go with us, but we had to wait for him to get up before we could set off. . . much to the dismay of my nephews.

We finally set sail (or whatever the motorboat equivalent is) after 7am, or, according to Bradley, "after all the good fishing is done."

 

Fishing with my nephews always fills me with anxiety, because I'm always convinced one of them is going to inevitably hook me with a fishing lure while casting their line. . . 

(I'm posing with this, but I didn't fish at all - not my thing.)

Gesturing towards the lily pads, where 'all the big fish are.'  According to 'reliable' sources.

Photobomb

Later on in the morning, we went back out to whip the nephews around the lake on the tube.  Submerging the tube as it's being towed behind a boat is a fan-favorite, but can't be good for the tube, I'm sure. . .

I try and break my telephoto lens out while spotting for Dad. . . but after awhile the movement of the boat while I'm looking through the camera makes me nauseous.

 

Following lunch, we forced the boys to enjoy some quieter, non-boatish activities.  Like so.

The girls had spent a leisurely morning about the cottage while Dad and I kept the nephews entertained.  Splashing around in the lake and getting the dog going is always a popular pastime.

I think this book is from the '40s. . .

Back on the lake.  Surprise, surprise.

We took the Sea Doo boat out for wakeboarding, since the line is attached to the boat's top bar and thereby higher up from the waterline.  I guess this makes it 'better for wakeboarding,' who knows.  Anyway, long story short, after Blake (shown here, sort of) fell one time, Dad drove the boat back around to pick him up and inadvertently drove over Blake's line, sucking it up into the boat's engine intake and causing the motor to seize up. We were stranded out on the lake - without phones or walkie talkies - for about a half an hour. . . 

. . . before this 'Bro' - who probably went by the name of 'Brock' or 'Brant' swung by and offered to tow us into port.  Thanks, Bro.

Kris and the girls paddle boating as Brock was pulling us into the Cottage.

We took advantage of the neighbors' boat launch (while they weren't there) so that we could load the Sea Doo onto the boat trailer.  Dad and Cindy were going to drop it off at the Boat Doctor's, located a couple miles down the road.  Fortunately, a few hours later, they were able to pick up the boat, undamaged (the line had been wrapped around the engine until the turbine couldn't turn any more, nothing else.)  To top it off, Blake even got his line handle back as a souvenir.

Making another run to Bev's

Hey look, here's my nephews watching Frozen.  How cute.

Afternoon at the Cottage

Kris is a big fan of this giant, inflatable beach ball.

Gossiping over snacks. . .?  I don't know.

Dad cleaning some mud splatter off his boat. . . because lake water won't do that.

Grilling up some dinner

(We ate the hell out of this.)

Following dinner, we took all the kids and dogs for a walk around the neighborhood. . .

Upon coming back to the Cottage, we broke out some kiddie fishing poles and let the girls try their hand at fishing (it's really an annual thing in this family.)

Abby's first fish of 2016

Her second one ended up being a perch.  What that means, exactly, I have no idea.

This fish had really hooked itself, so I had to wrestle with the damn thing to get the stupid hook out of its face. . .

(I straight-up loathe taking fish off hooks. . . and everything else there is about fishing in general, for that matter.)

The Cannonball's first fish stick.

Pink looks good on me.

The girls kept all of their fish in a bucket, to "keep as pets."  Of course.

You can see that wasn't about to happen on their heartless parents' watch. . .

Of course Bradley casually caught a bass.

Once the girls went to bed, we let the boys stay up late and watch another R-rated movie. . . because I'm a terrible, terrible uncle.

 - Brian