Small Stuff

I kept suggesting to Dad things to do today. Since he is a history buff I suggested a military museum at Sacket Harbor. No bites. The weather was overcast and although the forecast said little chance of a thunderstorms it sure as hell looked like rain would break out any second. It never materialized and ten minutes to noon Dad suggested we rent a boat.  I was sort of game despite the wind, there are parts of Chaumont Bay that are sheltered.  The state wanted $50 for the boat, $10 for gas and of course tax. Credit cards work, but they also wanted a $100 in cash as a deposit. Between the two of us we had $80.  Since we are so far from anywhere there might be a bank, much less an ATM, we nixed the plan, had a sandwich and took a little stroll to the end of the point where the park sits.

Dad’s been amazed about all the flat rocks. This brought up a little geology. I suspected sedimentary under glacial pressure and ta-da, I was sort of right when I Googled it. But I also learned that Ontario once flowed out toward Syracuse down the Mohawk, Hudson and to the Atlantic. It was also once part of the Atlantic. After the 6500 foot thick glaciers thawed and reopened the St Lawrence the lake emptied out where we know it today. All this from memory so if you want to challenge it, look it up.

I suggested we flush out the water tank in the RV. It was mid-afternoon when we finished. Instead of returning to our site I thought we should explore the peninsula.  What a discovery found at the end of the spit. The village of Peninsula Point.  Full-time residents I’m guessing ten. Summer residents, not too many more. Town has three buildings- the store, the restaurant and the church.  So many buildings on this one lane road I kind of got lost in quaintness. Heck the restaurant’s named Shangri-la.  

Dad and I entered the old store, a clapboard building with wooden floors. Unpainted, weather gray, it sat squeezed between the narrow road and the bay. Behind the store were the remains of a boat dock destroyed by the lake’s thick ice. Government designed, government built and according to two of the ten residents the government is supposed to rebuild it this fall. It’s jumbled concrete slabs that look like got struck by an earthquake hit.

Tom, who was hired yesterday and started today, greeted us like old lost friends. He sat at a large round table at the front of the store reading a newspaper. I told him I was lost. Looking for ice cream actually. “Well, we don’t have any, but across the way they might. I’ve seen sprinkles in there. That’s a good sign of ice cream.”  Tom was so friendly he even showed us where they put his pace maker in. Well, maybe that was too much too soon. 

The restaurant was a revamped bar, restaurant, pool and game room, and headquarters for the campground up the hill.  Ice cream consisted of a rather large choice of ice cream bars. I selected a peanut butter crunch and Dad had the same. We sat at a booth, listening to a ball game and reading the menu.  Dad asked if I wanted a drink and I suggested we get it from the store.  We strolled back across the street.

Three teenage boys were now hanging out with Tom. Topic: fishing. Perch which can go for $15 a pound. Tom pays his bills and keeps out of trouble by fishing. I wondered how much trouble a man with a pace maker can get into. There was a warm sweet smell in the air. The boys and Tom had a loaf of fresh baked coconut bread. He invited us to have some.  A special delivery from another resident named Ruth. So there we sat in the old Gas, Beer, Ice, Food and Bait shop eating coconut bread, and sipping soda with three teenagers from Peninsula Point and Tom, a not-yet-so-middle- aged man who had spent his summers on the Point with his granddad. Feeling right at home, down home and lost in Shangri-La.