Redfish Lake

We're going to Redfish Lake! This makes for jumping up-and-down excited!

As long as I can remember, we've gone to Redfish Lake. My memory tells me that mother recounted that the family went to Alturus Lake before we acquired our Redfish passion. I do remember the two-seater outhouses at Alturus Lake.

Because of photos, I remember the summer of 1958 at Redfish Lake. We took Papa's (CL Luke) boat -- it had a motor. Mother didn't go out on the lake in the boat because she was pregnant with Bruce. What the connection between pregnancy and boating could be, I have no idea. When we took Papa's boat it was full to the brim with camping stuff on the way up and back. We must have not rented a trailer that year because I don't ever remember Dad pulling both a trailer and a boat.

My first real memory of Redfish is having a bonfire down by the lake. We were camping in one of the first campsites. And this was before changes were made to the campsites and road and in my mind the whole area looked very different than it does today. We connected with some people Mother and Dad knew and they joined us at the bonfire. We were sitting around the fire and could look out across the lake. They told us of a funny thing that had happened to them with some other friends.

While gathering around a campfire they started talking about the echo you could hear across the lake. Then someone offered to demonstrate it. He yelled out "hamburger". Then he did the echo sound, "hamburger". He waited then yelled "hotdog". Again, the echo "hotdog" was given. Then "Jim's a good guy". (Apparently there was a Jim in the group.) The echo heard back was "baloney". I thought that was so absolutely hilarious that I've never forgotten it. (It is one of three jokes I can actually remember. You don't want to know the other two.)

Okay, another memory is Bruce being about 5 and befriending a cute little girl. Bruce himself was cute and personable and I thought the two of them were darling going around the lake and playing together. He was wearing little shorts and his legs were nice and brown. And his hair was crew-cut short.

If you've never heard me recount the very memorable tale of Michael and the school coat, you've missed out on seeing me laugh so hard that I start snorting and have to hang on to something to keep myself from falling off my chair. I just remember it all in such vivid detail and find it so hilarious (sorry, Mike). Our big yearly family vacations usually consisted of camping for the three-day weekend over Labor Day. This was a BIG undertaking! Beginning about when Bruce was born we'd rent a small trailer. I remember this was what mother wanted and felt she needed. I think we would cram the trailer full of all the stuff needed for this large family to eat and sleep and play and keep warm for 3 days. Since school had either already started or was staring the next week, we had new school coats to keep us warm and the girls already had permed hair (mine at least was tight, brillo-pad type curls).

Okay, memory of the coat.

It is afternoon on Labor Day. The Armgas are crammed into their Chevrolet (Dad ALWAYS drove a Chevy) pulling their exhausted trailer behind them on their way back home. It has been a full, dirty and excellent-camping-breakfasts three days. Just after we get over Galena Summit (of course, pulling the full trailer this would have been alittle stressful for Dad), Mike leans over the back of the front seat and asks, "Did you pick up my coat from the beach?"

How long had Michael been thinking about the whereabouts of his coat? How brave did he have to be to pose that question? It was quickly determined that no, no one had picked up his coat from the beach. So I can imagine mother and dad quickly thinking through the choices. Would the coat still be on the beach? Was it worth driving the extra hour back to the lake to try and find it? And were they even sure it was left on the beach and wasn't buried someplace back in the trailer. I don't remember any discussion. I do remember dad very resolutely pulling off to the side of the road -- into one of the many pulloffs, parking the car and trailer, getting out, unhitching the trailer, getting back in and turning the car around. We made a flying trip back to Redfish Lake. No talking during the drive back. Stern look on Dad's face. We get to the beach and yes, the coat is there. We drive back to the trailer but this part of the trip isn't so fast and intense. We hook the trailer back up and head home. Mike's life is spared AND he has a warm new coat for school.

Last memory I'll recount here took place the summer that Brandon was one or two. We were camped in the upper level campgrounds on the side of the road away from the Lake. This meant we were flush up against the "mountain". We had a big curve of a parking/drive-way area. The Roths had their camper there. Lawrence was there. I was there. Mother and Dad and Bruce were there. I'm sure there were others of you there also. It wasn't unusual for there to be "Caution, Bears" signs posted in the area. We had a nice big campfire and it was getting late. I was in the camper changing Brandon's diaper. All of the sudden there was a loud crashing noise coming down the hillside. This terrifying sound was accentuated with growls and snorts. This is what I remember: Lawrence grabbed a hatchet and got into fight pose. My knees turned to rubber. I could NOT move and I thought I was going to pee my pants. It was like everyone FROZE, stood looking at where the sound was coming from and WAITED to see what would happen. Out of the dark came this huge man with a familiar face. He was a good friend from the ward who worked with Bruce in scouting. He had seen us earlier in the day and thought it would be fun to come and scare us. Scare us he did! I certainly thought it was a bear coming down the mountainside and I think others felt the same way. There was only one other time in my life when I was that scared, but that is another story.

What do you remember about Redfish Lake?