I’ve stood on a shipwreck.


            I’ve stood on a shipwreck. I probably shouldn’t have because standing on rusty metal isn’t usually recommended, but I did it anyway. The wreck was mostly sunken into the sand underneath about ten feet of water but the scale of it was still visible. The thing was massive. It was a freight ship, one of those ones that seem nonsensically big, and I stood on top of the remains of it like some idiotic adventurer who doesn’t fully understand what he has found. Where was this shipwreck? Some popular tourist destination along an ocean coast? My favorite place in the world is Lake Huron.
            Every summer for as long as I can remember my family and I have traveled to visit our friends who own a small cottage on the edge of Lake Huron. I, an exceptionally introverted human, absolutely love the place because it is completely secluded. Relatively few people go on vacation to the moderately chilly beaches along the coast of Lake Huron, and, to top it all off, the entire section of beach surrounding the cottage is completely privately owned. The cottage was built about 100 feet from the lake and about a mile from the nearest road. Having a mile-long driveway can be great (except for trick or treaters) but usually, we can’t find our way there.
We have a GPS (not a phone, a little box that was specifically built to find our way) but the most recent maps it has are from 2007. As it turns out roads change in ten years and last summer we had to guess our way through the last ten minutes of the drive. Arriving at the cottage is always amazing. It is a nine-hour drive up from Champaign and doing it all in one day can be slightly tedious with six people in the car. Stepping out from the car into the sound of waves on a beach is truly incredible. Just the sight of the cottage brings back memories.
One year we threw a set of shelves off the roof. I’m not entirely sure why we did it, but it provided incredible kindling for the fire we started that night. The cottage brings freedom for whoever is there. The upright and proper father in their family who is a professor of some intensely academic topic decided to throw a set of shelves off the roof for no reason other than to do it. Sitting on the beach watching shooting stars that night after the shelf fire had calmed down was magical.
To pass the time when we weren’t out and about we played games. My brother and I played two games in particular. Every time we played Othello he won by a landslide. Every time we played a weird form of 3D Connect Four I completely dominated. This mutually beneficial relationship was perfect for us. We could both win at our respective games and still be happy enough after losing the games we knew we were going to lose. I remember so much from those days.
The cottage creates memories; the freedom to do whatever you want, away from the turmoil of the internet and the outside world. Because of this, I did things I would never imagine myself doing in a normal school year life. I caught fish with my bare hands, I let a crawfish pincer onto my nose, I ran with a train that followed a track on the coast. I lost contact with everything that I had cared so deeply about during the school year and I escaped the society that I grew up in. Standing on a shipwreck, feeling like a king without a care in the world, I was truly free. This is why Lake Huron is my favorite place in the world.

Comments

  1. Elizabeth SingerMay 4, 2018 at 11:14 PM

    Your tone and word choice both lead to a very whimsical vibe that I love. I would love to read some more reflection and how this place has impacted who you are now, not just when you are there.

    ReplyDelete

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