By Madison Karakis
I have put a lot of time into thinking about what to say in
this post. I am not going to lie; this has been the hardest year for me yet. My
blogs have been inconsistent, and I am working towards bringing back the
realness I had shared with you all in the beginning. Yes, you will get the
information about the fishing, but I want to share with you my journey, my
experiences, my Wine Lake. Get ready, this will be a long one.
Late April/ Early May have been a time of excitement for the
past few years. It is a time when dad and I are running around, gathering odds
and ends, and packing for our next journey together. Typically, he leaves, and
I giddily follow shortly behind. Typically, I am packed and ready a month in
advance. Typically, I am excited when dad leaves because I know it means I will
be heading to camp soon as well. Not this year. When the time came for him to
leave, my heart hurt.
Now I have had some mixed feelings about this season. In the
fall, I had taken a job that would allow me to come spend the time in camp that
I had in the past. The thought weighed heavy on my heart, but I had accepted that.
In the end, the job did not work well with school, so I had to quit. No work
means Wine Lake and a happy ending…right? Well not exactly. The experience got
me thinking about how I am set to graduate in December 2019. Graduation means
it is time to move into the grownup world, find a grownup job, and less time to
spend at Wine Lake.
This year I started packing my bags around 4 pm the day
before I left. There was no excitement, only stress and worry. I remember
thinking at 6 am the next morning, as I drove away with just me and my dog as I
made the journey by myself for the first time, “no one ever said goodbye would
be easy, but they also never said it would be this hard.” The truth is, when I
left that morning, I was not just saying goodbye to my family and my friends. I
was saying goodbye to my last summer before graduation. Goodbye to spending
time with my dad while he lives his dream. Leaving on this journey was like
walking through a door for the last time before you have to close it for good.
Like coming to the last chapter of a book you don’t want to end. Now that does
not mean there are not more books in the series, or other doors to be opened,
just that all good things must come to an end. With that being said, this is
probably the last time I will be up here for an extended period of time. I have
also made the decision to cut the time short so I can spend some time at home
as well.
I love you all dearly, and I am sorry to be a bummer. I am
going to switch up the mood a little as I give you the beginning of my final
chapter.
The final chapter. Sounds quite melodramatic, doesn’t it?
What can I say, I like drama. This year has not only been hard on me, this is
the hardest year we have had for opening camp. I am always writing about how we
constantly run into something new. I probably sound like a broken record. I am
still surprised when we encounter a new problem though. I mean as we are going
into our fourth season, you would think we would have to be running out of
surprises by now. Nope. Not even in the slightest. I strongly believe, that
until my dad is physically unable to run this camp anymore there will still
always be something new to learn, a new challenge, or new obstacle to overcome.
Why? Because nature never rests.
We thought ice out was late last year. By golly were we ever
wrong. We fought our way into camp on Saturday May 11th. We made it
in by the afternoon. Our full team was not in camp until the afternoon of
Monday May 13th. That left us three full days until our first guests
arrived. Talk about a mad dash. Well, that is what we did. Somehow, we did it,
well sort of. Mistakes were made, and things were overlooked.
If you remember, we were short on help by the end of last
year. For the last month the camp was run entirely by Justin, and my father.
While I love them both dearly, boy did I want to hit them over the head. Not
only were we out of cleaning supplies, but nearly EVERY SINGLE blanket,
comforter, linen, rag, and ovenmitt, you name it, it was at the Eagle’s Nest.
Basically, if it was made of fabric it was not in camp. I won’t lie, there may
have been a teeny-tiny meltdown. You can’t trust men to do anything.
I have to give them credit though, they did the best they
could with the hand they were dealt. They were dog tired by the end last year.
It just meant we had our work cut out for us, and a very short amount of time
to do it. Everyone rose to the challenge though. We are open, we have guests,
and we can finally start to relax a little. It was a rough start, but we made
it through. The water is up from the end of last year already. I have decided
to enjoy the remaining few weeks I have here and am excited for what awaits.
