April 1: A Return to Happiness
For most people, April 1 is a day for pranks and foolish activities. For me, it has always been the start of camping season. A day when five months of winter blues can be shed into the muddy waters of Charles Mill Lake, awakening a happiness that can only be achieved by time in the sun, surrounded by nature.
I started camping when I was only a few months old, my parents waking up for midnight feedings in the comfort of a tiny travel trailer. Some of my first photos were taken in the arms of our camping family, around a roaring fire. The lake made its way into my soul and every fiber of my being and became a part of who I was, as if it played a hand in raising me.
Charles Mill Lake is where my dad taught me to ride a bike and I sat on his lap in the captain’s chair, driving a boat long before I ever got behind the wheel of a car. I made friends during the long days of summer, transcending the borders of lot numbers, running wild and free. I learned the language of the lake, learned the smell of the coming rain, the look of the clouds that meant to pull your awning in. I pedaled to the Marina with a few dollars in hand for Laffy Taffy, some bait or a cold pop, returning only when the lights at the bathroom blinked on, signaling the coming sunset that was sure to be spectacular.
Now that I’m grown, I see a different side of the park. It’s the same camp family, but everyone’s grown up a bit. I watch the children ride by on their bikes, just as I once did. The people who used to watch their kids at the playground, now do the same for their grandchildren. I wait for the golf cart parades in the evening, laughing at their exclamation of “This is what you do when you get old!”
When the spring rains cause the lake to come knocking at your door, everyone is there, loading firewood and saving your camper from a watery grave. When you see someone driving too fast, you join in a chorus of “SLOW DOWN!” You have a family, a motley crew brought together by the love of nature and s’mores.
Today, the lake still holds my childhood and gives it back every March, as I start to count down, like a kid in December. I allow the best parts of myself to come back to life as I throw open the doors and crank open the trailer windows on April 1st. I take the time to remember the days that I did this in a different camper, a different decade, a different time.
As the world wakes up and spring comes to Ohio, take a moment to drive to the east end of 430. Creep along the roads that hold the key to a life that has been lost to so many. But, take my word for it, even though it’s April 1st, don’t try and pull a prank on your dad as he backs the camper in, it’s not as funny as you think it will be and you will likely get grounded. Happy April 1st, Camper Family! See you on the lake!
- Lyndsi Hampton, Seasonal Camper, Charles Mill Lake
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