Sundays at Mitchell Lake

Mitchell Lake Public Beach

My parents shared a special bond with Ed and Izabelle, a friendship that blossomed over years of shared experiences and mutual support. Their relationship extended far beyond mere acquaintanceship; they were inseparable allies at school sporting events, passionately cheering from the sidelines and rejoicing together in every triumph. These occasions nurtured a strong sense of fellowship and belonging, united by their enthusiasm for the Ethan Rustlers. Away from the thrill of the games, they often gathered in the evenings around the table for spirited card games, filled with laughter and good-natured rivalry. These delightful times forged enduring memories, making the Erpenbach family an essential part of my parents’ world.

Throughout the warm and sunlit summers, our Sundays were almost invariably spent with the Erpenbachs at Mitchell Lake. This weekly ritual quickly became the highlight of our summer weekends, combining the tranquil beauty of the lake with the comfort of close friendship. As the soft breeze whispered through the trees and the sunlight danced on the water’s surface, I would joyfully splash along the shore while the adults enjoyed boat rides with Ed and the older children practiced water skiing. These sun-soaked Sundays felt like brief vacations, transforming ordinary afternoons into treasured moments of happiness and togetherness.

Every Sunday, Mom and Izzie would prepare an abundant picnic to feed our two families during our day at the lake. Their baskets and coolers brimmed with homemade sandwiches, vibrant salads loaded with fresh veggies, juicy slices of watermelon, and a variety of baked treats. They also filled water coolers with ice-cold lemonade and water to keep everyone hydrated under the blazing sun. Upon arriving at the lake, they set up a long metal table beneath the shade of nearby trees. Throughout the day, they brought out a rotating selection of snacks—chips, fruit, or cookies—for us to munch on. When lunchtime came, they laid out the sandwiches, fried chicken, and salads they had made the previous day. Hunger was never an issue during our beach visits.

After eating, they always required us kids to stay out of the water for an hour to allow our food to settle, a rule that in my younger years seemed puzzling and sometimes frustrating. This piece of old wisdom, handed down through generations, was deeply respected by the elders, who warned of cramps, stomach pain, or worse—the dreaded risk of drowning if we swam too soon after a meal. Although contemporary science debunks this theory, the custom provided a special pause in the day—a chance to relax, chat, and enjoy the sun’s gentle warmth. This waiting period became a moment filled with anticipation, making the eventual dive into the refreshing water all the more satisfying.

Being the youngest of the children in our families often meant I was at the center of many unforgettable adventures, especially with my two older brothers and the Erpenbach boys. Those summer afternoons spent beside the lake were alive with constant laughter and spirited antics, with the boys—strong, fearless swimmers—darting and splashing around me in the water. Being smaller and less skilled, I was their target for playful teasing, as they would swim beneath me and mischievously drag me underwater, their good-natured pranks challenging my bravery and endurance. Though these surprises sparked brief moments of alarm, their water games made me feel part of the group, and deep down, I relished the attention.

While playing in the shallow water, I eagerly anticipated my turn to speed across the water while riding the tube attached to Ed’s boat, my heart racing with a blend of excitement and nervous anticipation. The blazing sun shone above, casting sparkling reflections on the lake’s surface, accompanied by the thunderous hum of the boat’s engine. I watched as Ed expertly maneuvered away from the shore, the tube bouncing gently through the waves. Clutching the handles tightly, I waited with bated breath for him to accelerate and launch me across the water at a breathtaking pace. The adrenaline rush, the splash of cool water against my face, and the sheer exhilaration of defying gravity atop the tube created an unforgettable experience that left me yearning for yet another ride.

Although I never mastered skiing myself, I have a clear memory of the excitement I felt while riding the boat across the glistening lake, intently watching the older kids and adults as they smoothly skied over the water. The steady sound of their splashes and the spray trailing behind them created an image of freedom and exhilaration that captivated me. Holding onto the boat’s edge, with the wind rushing through my hair, I experienced a blend of wonder and eager anticipation, imagining the sensation of balancing on those narrow skis and speeding across the lake’s surface. Even though I never experienced skiing firsthand, those bright afternoons spent observing instilled in me a lasting admiration and fascination for the sport.

After a sun-soaked day by the lake, we would load the car with sandy towels and exhausted smiles, our skin prickling from predictable sunburns. The journey home featured drowsy conversations and the glare of sunlight streaming through the windows, intensifying the sensitivity of our reddened shoulders. Yet, regardless of how worn out or sunburnt we were, we always made a treasured pit stop along the way – A&W. Pulling into the familiar lot, Mom would order a gallon of root beer to take back with us. At home, she would scoop creamy ice cream into mugs and pour the sweet root beer over it. This rich root beer float served as the perfect treat after a sun-filled day, instantly refreshing us while we waited for our turn to shower.

At last, when our turn came to shower, the soothing sensation of cool water was pure relief. As we lathered up a washcloth with Zest to wash away the sweat and lake grime, we could already feel some comfort from the sting of our sunburns. After stepping out, Mom tenderly applied Noxzema to our inflamed shoulders and arms; its menthol freshness and calming cream quickly soothed the irritated skin. The blend of the ointment’s familiar medicinal aroma with the citrusy-piney aroma of the soap created a strangely comforting ambiance. Afterwards, we shuffled quietly to bed, the slight ache from the sun’s rays a reminder of the day’s adventures.

As sleep claimed me that night, the memories of the day played softly in my mind – the laughter, the splashing water, the thrilling tube ride, and the shared experiences that deepened our bonds. Root beer floats and the subtle fragrance of Noxzema became enduring symbols of summers brimming with affection, friendship, and the simple pleasures of youth. Though the seasons changed and years slipped by, the enchantment of those Sundays spent at Mitchell Lake remained forever engraved in my heart, a lasting testament to the warmth nurtured by cherished moments with loved ones.

The Erpenbachs had a boat, so the older kids plus adults spent the day skiing.