My buddy Roger and I went up to our cabin alone when we had our driver licenses and parental trust. There was only one resort on Upper South Long. Like its name, the lake is stretched from East to West and narrow from South to North. The resort was at the East end. There was a live bait and bread, milk and egg type store with a well stocked candy case, ice cream and soft drinks. We had a deal with the resort owner. In the store he had a bulletin board. It was filled with campers holding large bass, Northern pike or full stringer of panfish. Roger and caught most of the fish. The owner would get a guest to volunteer for the picture. The bulletin board was one form of marketing. In return for supplying fish for the photos, we enjoyed complimentary ice cream or a soda.
The resort rented about a dozen cabins, had a nice picnic area with a table and a badminton/volley ball net. You could rent a fishing boat, launch your own or buy gas for your outboard motor.
Roger and I always had the same argument.
“We’ll it’s my cabin,” was my argument claim.
“We got here in my car,” was Roger’s counter.
The argument was a draw, so we’d usually flip a coin or grant the argument win to the winner of paper, rock, scissors.
The reason for a claim was our “Surefire way to meet some girls,” scheme.
We had used the scheme many times, It was yet to be successful, but we couldn’t think up another.
We had a small speedboat with a 25 hp motor. It wasn’t terribly fast but had a power prop and great torque for pulling a skier. Both Roger and I, skiing wasn’t any more difficult than walking. Either of us could Salome all day and not wear out. I could even ski on a canoe paddle. I’d be on a Salome ski, holding the paddle in my hand. I’d ease the paddle down, get my weight on it and drop the ski. I could only fit one foot on the paddle, and standing on one leg took it’s toll. I could only ski that way for about 5 minutes.
Whenever I won the argument, Roger would pull me skiing on the paddle, back and forth in front of the resort so I could show off to the girls sunbathing on the resort beach.
When Roger won the argument, he wouldn’t do the paddle, he would Salome wickedly carving his turn, with his shoulder skimming the water.
That day when we argued who would ski and who would drive the boat, Roger won. He would impress the ladies. I’d pilot the boat.
Our plan had a couple other important parts, so we thought. We’d dump all but a quarter or half gallon of gas out of the outboard tank. After impressing the sunbathers with our skiing ability, we’d tie the boat up at the dock and gas it up as we checked out the girls. When we paid for the fuel, we’d casually ask about the female guests, get an ice cream cone and head for the beach. In the plan, we chat up the girls, offer a boat ride or pull them skiing. From there it would be the drive-in theater in town. From there to… you get the idea.
We thought our plan was terrific even though it had never worked. We knew it was just a matter of patience and repetition.
As I said that day Roger won. We took out the extra gas. At full speed, I headed for the resort and Roger kicked up a wall of spray.
At the resort I stayed int front, , zig-zagging, skimming close. Now was time for the grand exit. I steered straight at the shore. My turn was as sharp as the speedboat could endure. I sped away from the sand, Roger dug, tilting his ski, showering water higher than a house. At the last second, he dropped the tow rope. He must have been moving more than 30 miles an hour. Normally, not that fast we’d hit the sand at about one mile per hour, pop out of the ski and scamper across the sand.
This time, Roger hit the beach nearly full speed. When the ski hit sand, it stopped. Being quick and athletic, roger ran. He leaned forward at more than a 45 degree angle. His feet trying to catch up with his head.
The sand ended at the driveway and fresh mowed grass marked the picnic area. Roger raced across the road. His uncontrolled run took him to a family eating a lunch at the picnic table. Without stopping roger leaped over the table’s bench, stepped in a bowl of potato salad and cleared another bench. Slower now, he hooked his arm around the trunk of a slender birch tree. He spun and slumped to the grass.
I sped to the dock and turned the boat around. Roger stood and sprinted to the ski, floating at the shoreline. Girls on the beach pointed and laughed. A man from the picnics table pointed and cursed. Roger pointed and yelled, “Keep it running!”
Without breaking stride, he raced to the dock and jumped for the boat. I pushed the throttle to full. The bow rose up and the boat was about to plane out and speed away. Instead, the motor groaned, sputtered and stopped, out of gas.
Roger and I both looked back at the sunbathers. They were still pointing and still laughing. The picnic dad was on the dock.
We didn’t have oars, so I grabbed the canoe paddle and Roger used the ski. I took us half an hour to reach the cabin. With sore arms, we slumped into lawn chairs. Neither of us spoke for a bit.
“It’s my cabin,” I said. “Next time you drive the boat.”
“Paper, rock, scissors,” Roger said then laughed.
Major Dundee
Surprisingly, the plan did actually work that time. Well, sort of.
We finished our hot dog lunch and had changed out of our swimming suits. I wore shorts. Roger wore his jockey briefs. He had skied in cutoff jeans he now had drying on the clothes line.
“Hi guys,”
We both spun around.
Two girls our age stood in the doorway.
“Um…Hi,” I said. “Come on in.
Roger grabbed a towel and wrapped around his waist.
“These must be yours.” Both girls smiled. One held Roger’s cutoffs up in the air. “They’re dry.” She tossed them at Roger. He let go of the towel and grabbed for the jeans. He bobbled the catch. Both the shorts and tower landed on the cabin floor. Roger snatched his jeans and quickly pulled them on.
Both the girls and I chuckled when Roger turned away from us and zipped them up.
“You’re from the resort. I saw you there,” I said. “That’s Roger. I’m Mike.”
“Susan,” the taller of the two girls said.
“Sharon,” said the other. “Ya, we saw you guys too.” She looked at Roger. “Your landing needs a little work,” she said.
Three of us laughed. One of us blushed.
Later, Roger and I decided we needed to add a six-pack of beer to our plan. For now, we offered the girls soft drinks. The four of us sat outside in the sun. They were both from Burnsville, MN and graduated from high school there. WE had a nice time laughing and joking. We promised to take the girls skiing the next day.
Roger and I were a little shocked but pleased. The girls invited us to go dancing at a place called Little Point.
Roger said that sounded like fun. We had heard that Little Point was where all the resort workers and camp counselors hug out. but weren’t sure exactly where it was.
“Excuse us for a second,” Roger said and motioned me inside. “I know the girls aren’t beauty queens, but they’ll show us where Little Point is. If we meet some real lookers, maybe we can ditch these two or arrange to meet the new girls tomorrow or something.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Ditching them wouldn’t be too nice. Even if it’s not a date, is it?” It’s not really a date.”
Back outside, the girls said they had talked it over.
“What did you decide?”” Roger asked.
“This could work out great,“ Susan said. “To keep things clear, it’s not a date. It’s four friends out on the town. We’re taking one car and expect to have a fin night.”
“Sounds good,” Roger said, agreeing with the girls.
The four of us walked down the steps to the dock.”
”Pick us up about 8:00,” Sharon said. My parents will want to meet you . She pulled the starter cord and let the engine idle. “Later she said and shifted into gear.
Susan waved goodbye.
“So now what?” I asked Roger. “What do we need to do? You know I haven’t dated that much.”
“You haven’t dated at all,” Roger said. “We just need to clean up a little. You know, like take a swim.”
We both laughed and struggled, trying to throw each other in the lake. We both ended up in the water and took turns with a bar of soap.
Gentlemen? Not So Much
At 8:00 Roger and I, both in the front seat, drove to the resort. We parked in the drive. The girls stood waiting by the bait shop door.
“What now?” I asked Roger. “Am I supposed to get in the back seat? And, if I do, which girl is going to sit with me? I’d rather have Sharon than Suson. Remember it’s my cabin.”
“My car,” Roger said. “Hop out. Both of us can hold a car door open. They get in the back. We get back in the front.”
“Brilliant,” I said softly and got out of the car.
We held the doors. The girls looked at each other then climbed in.
It was about five miles of gravel until we got to the black top main road. We stopped at the stop sign. Roger looked over his shoulder. “Left or right?”” he asked.
“We don’t know, the girls said in unison. “We thought you guys knew.” Susan added.
“Ha,” I laughed. “We thought at least one of you did? Take a right, Roger. A couple miles that away is a dairy store. We can ask for directions.”
We drove another five miles. The store was dark. “Closed,” Roger said.
“Ok,” I said. “Keep going. There’s a gas station that should be open.”
The gas station was open. An elderly gentleman scratched his chin. “Little Point,” he said and scratched some more. “That’s back on the far side of Brainard, I believe. Back the way you came, about… hm… about thirty miles maybe? Not too sure.”
Any suggestions? Roger asked as we held the car doors again.
I dangled my arm over the back of my seat. “We could drive around all night and end up doing nothing. We, at least I, don’t have a fake ID to get into a bar or club. We’re almost to the drive-in theater. It’s just about three more miles. The movie might have already started. If not, it will soon.”
Sharon and Susan looked at each other. “Drive-in? Sharon said. Susan nodded. Let’s go,” Shaaron said.
Popcorn Anyone?
At the drive-in ticked office, Roger stopped the car. Roger cleared his throat to break the awkward silence and held his hand out.
I tried to stifle my sigh and pulled out my wallet. I handed some bills to Roger who paid admission for four.
I cleared my throat and held out my hand. Roger said, “Oh,” and gave me the change.
We found a good palace to park. It wasn’t totally dark. The main show, ‘Major Dundee,’ hadn’t begun. The theater ran a few cartoons as we waited.
“Anyone want popcorn? I asked. “My treat. Again.”
The girls said they’d like some. Susan offered me some money, but I declined. “My treat,” I said. “Roger, do you want to help carry?”
Together, we walked to the concession stand up by the projection shack.
“It’s not going so bad,” I said. “Dundee’s a good movie. I’ve seen it before.”
“I suppose,” Roger said.
We purchased popcorn and sodas. When we got back close to the car we froze.
“My car Roger said.
“My cabin,” I countered.
In Roger’s car, Sharon sat in the front seat. Susan sat in the back.
“Okay,” I muttered in surrender. “Your car.”
Roger took two bags of popcorn and two drinks. I took the other two and slid into the back.
I was enjoying the show, when a movement caught my eye. I looked to my left. Susan was halfway between me and her door. A scene or two later another movement. Susan was closer. It only took her five minutes, to close the distance between us.
The back was a bench seat. The front had buckets. Roger was as close to Sharon as his seat would let him move. Sharon rested her arm on the backs of her and Rogers seats. She put her palm on Roger’s shoulder to hold him at bay.
When she raised her arm, I smelled something that wasn’t popcorn. It was a faint smell of body odor.
I didn’t want to embarrass anyone, but I had to slowly roll down my window. I got it down about an inch before I heard buzzing and a slap. Roger had swatted a mosquito. He swatted again and asked me to roll my window up.
Susan rolled her window down about two inches. “Slide over against me she said and gave me a coquettish smile.
“I’m good,” I said. She closed her window and slid to me. When I turned my head to say something, she grabbed both sides of my face and kissed me. Sharon may have had BO, but Susan won a prize for bad breath.
Embarrassed, I pulled away. “That was nice (I lied,) but I’m kind ah not ready for that. I mean you’re great and all that but…”
Susan gave a loud sniff, folded her arms and leaned against her door.
Lucky for probably all of us, intermission time came.
The girls headed for the ladies room. I moved to the front seat. “This has not been a good day,” I said.
“The movie’s good,” Roger said and laughed.
The girls came back, and both sat in the back seat. We made it to the end of the movie. I seemed to be the only one who felt like talking but had trouble thinking of what to say. Back at the resort, we said goodnight to the girls.
For the rest of that week, we went to town for gas and ice-cream.
