Last week my Cousin and I took our families on a journey into the wilds of the great north… Well, Hayward Wisconsin to be exact.
Lake Nelson, our home for the week, was just the sort of spot a bunch of third-rate adventurers, with children in tow, were looking for. There was an island, an abundance of wildlife, and a wise local or two. Truth be told, most old people seem wise to me. Even the drunk ones especially the drunk ones.
We relaxed and enjoyed ourselves, and we even learned a thing or two along the way.
STUFF WE LEARNED:
-Eagles are the Clint Eastwood of birds (evidenced by the photo below).
“Ever notice how sometimes you come across somebody you shouldn’t have fucked with? Well, I’m that bird.”
-We learned that turtles, when not mutated or trained in the arts of Ninjitsu, are pretty chill. Although, they do have a pee-on-you fetish, which is kind of weird. But hey, to each his own.
“I’m peeing on this guy’s hands.”
-We learned that six children under the age of 8, in a three bedroom cabin, is a surefire way to turn parents into alcoholics.
-I fell out of a kayak. Which taught me that kayaks are a tricky way to travel. Also, fuck kayaks.
-Cleaning a fish is more difficult than it’s portrayed on youtube.
-Bug spray is not sunblock. Sunblock is not bug spray.
-In Hayward, people with the strangest accents will comment on your accent.
-Spotted Cow is a delicious beer.
“I’d drink me. I’d drink me, hard.”
-Most importantly, I learned that mosquitos are amassing a tiny vampire army, and Wisconsin is ground zero.
“I’m going to poke holes in you and drink your essential fluids. Then you will be itchy and I will laugh at your discomfort.”
A TALE FROM THE HAYWARD WALMART:
My cousin and I stopped at the Walmart in Hayward to purchase much needed supplies. During our purchase, I asked the cashier if he knew of any places that we could pick up more firewood. He looked at me for a long moment.
“Let me think” he whispered.
The seconds ticked away slowly.
“It’s okay, I can—–”
“I’m thinking” said the man, cutting me off.
My cousin and I exchanged an unsure look. The seconds continued ticking away, much slower than before. The two of us watching on as the man thought long and hard. Finally, he sighed heavily and hung his head.
“I can’t think.” He whispered, an almost inaudible admission.
The Walmart checkout line had suddenly become some strange confessional.
“It’s okay, man.” Replied my cousin. He was the Robin Williams to this man’s inner Matt Damon.
The man looked up at us curiously.
“Are you German?” He asked.
I smiled politely at the man.
“No. No, we are not.”
He nodded at this, as if my response had reaffirmed something for him. Something important. We nodded back at the man warily, and then left.
Nik Was Here 