Week 28

Think fast … what is the 28th week of the year? It is just past the halfway mark on the way to December 31st, falling during the second week in July. I know this for several reasons: because Janet’s side of the family has gathered annually at Pend Oreille Shores Resort (POS) in Hope, ID since the early 1990s, and my birthday (7/10) always coincides with the beginning of the week that we use the lakeside condominiums. There have been a number of times over the years when I didn’t make the trip, but, all in all, we have been fairly consistent about undertaking the 10-hour trek from Eugene to Hope (via Sandpoint). The reunion is still going strong, and we hope our kids and their kids will continue to enjoy this special time with family, the beauty of Pend Oreille Lake, the watersports, and the visits with cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents for many years to come.

Traditions like “Week 28” do not materialize out of thin air. Although Janet’s parents Al and Jean could not have known that they were planting an acorn that would grow into a splendid, shade-giving oak when they purchased their first timeshare unit at POS decades ago, they did hope to establish an annual reunion for their children in a place near and dear to their hearts. Al began his forestry career working at Priest Lake, another northern Idaho gem. Janet was born in Sandpoint, ID (the big town) during this time. Even though the family eventually moved to Burns, OR and then to Walla Walla, WA, the lakes and mountains of Idaho’s northern panhandle retained an element of home—if only a vacation home.

The Skoglund Family gathering (ironically, there is only one remaining family member with the Skoglund last name … Janet’s sister Jennifer) gained traction over the years, and it brought their children, their grandchildren and now great grandchildren to Hope, ID every July for a week of fun in the sun, fishing with Grandpa, boating, tubing, shared meals and lots of lake time. Over the years, plastic inflatables (some immense like the “Big Kahuna”) have given way to paddle boards, and the ten cousins (the children of Al’s four daughters ages 51 to 67), now ranging in ages from 29 to 41, compete with their own children, another fifteen second cousins, ages eight months to 12 years old, for time on the boat and in the tube.

Once an annual experience like this repeats over years and even decades, a reservoir of memories is created and the bonds between family members who do not see each other but once a year start to build. You start to anticipate every aspect of a week that changes just enough to keep things from seeming like a time loop. One of the main reasons for this is that all the kids are a year older and their lake activities graduate from shore hugging to feet dipping, tube riding, boat steering, jet ski excursions to long-distance paddle boarding. New achievements are unlocked, celebrated and recorded in the family annals. Adults are barely needed except to drive the boat, prepare food, hand out snacks, spectate and monitor for life vest use. Here then are some of the time-honored traditions that contribute to a constant sense of deja-vue during our vacation at the lake:

• Arrival: check-in at the resort is supposed to begin around 4:00 p.m. on Friday. The previous week’s crowd cleared their units by 10:00 a.m., making way for a feverish scramble to clean, restock linens and run the dishwasher. We usually roll in around 3:00 p.m., blasting traditional arrival anthems (i.e., Beautiful Day/U2, Soak up the Sun/Sheryl Crow, While You See a Chance/Steve Winwood). As Highway 200 out of Sandpoint comes around the northeast edge of the massive lake, and drops down over the water into Hope, ID, the view expands to include Ellisport Bay tucked into the crook of the jutting peninsula, the Warren, Cottage and Pearl islands floating on the sun dappled water and the towering Green Monarchs in the distance. A feeling of nostalgia, majesty, and coming home enfolds you as another week on Lake Pend Oreille beckons.
• Check-in: over the years, we have accumulated three timeshare units (2 one-bedrooms and 1 two-bedroom). These accommodate our family nicely, but check-in always throws us a few curve balls. Between getting multiple keys for multiple units, parking passes, athletic club entry fobs and signing off on the various paperwork, I always relax just a bit more when the process is complete. That just leaves the hauling of stuff. SOP for us has always been to cram the car with so much stuff that it is necessary to make the ten hour drive without being able to see anything out of the rear window. All of the suitcases, coolers, boxes of food and drinks, assorted water toys, craft supplies, lawn chairs and sun umbrella must be lugged from the car to the condos (two of which occupy the upstairs level). Even though I know that pain is fleeting and all will be duly stashed soon enough, this last hurdle to a week of enjoyment and relaxation puts an exclamation mark of exhaustion on top of the long drive.
• Smoothies: the resort has always maintained and staffed a snack bar on premises. Over the years it has evolved into a branded coffee shop serving light meals for breakfast and lunch. I tried the Sausage Roll this year and can vouch for its greasy deliciousness. By far and away, at least for our extended family, the “go-to” purchase is still the Strawberry Delight smoothie, a 16 oz concoction of strawberry and banana served in a disposable, plastic cup topped with whipped cream, a lid and completed with a wide straw. These treats now cost $8.00, so once, twice and sometimes thrice orders by multiple children on a daily basis can add up quickly. The policy of allowing the smoothie addicts to charge the drinks to their family units is another factor in driving up the costs!
• Frog-A-Rama: the weekend at the resort passes in relatively blissful peace. The water bugs spend Saturday tubing until they are sunburnt and exhausted, resulting in the inevitable Sunday crash requiring mandatory rest time, intensive hydration and the slathering on of aloe-based creams. By Monday, everyone is ready for the daily scheduled activities overseen by Valerie, a decades-long employee who has now dealt with the antics of two generations of Skoglund clan members. A staunch adherent to tradition, the weekly line-up has not changed since the dawn of lake time and includes a lakefront puzzle game called Pirates of Pend D’Oreille, the well attended Bingo sessions, the making of tye-dyed t-shirts and the highlight of the week: Frog-A-Rama. Nearly everyone staying at the resort gathers on the lawn down by the boat dock. Self-selected, two-person teams are called out to where ancient yellow paddle boats are moored, and participants climb in the relics. Adults need to pretzel their frames into the small, rigid seats, finding their knees bent up into their faces. Each person is given a tiny net for scooping. Valerie tosses 30 to 40 green frogs into the lake where they bob and drift off according to the current. A bullhorn blast sends the teams into chaos, thrashing and pedaling towards the floating croakers. Typically, the person who is not trying to pedal and steer the impossibly unreactive water craft leans far over the side attempting to scoop up as many frogs as possible. The paddle boats collide, helplessly turning in futile circles, and persist until all the amphibians are rounded up. Only then do they return to the dock where volunteers count the quantity captured and give each team a laminated card with their number of trophies. The teams return to the cheering fans while another set of frog hunters gather to take their turns. Cards can be exchanged for generously sized candy bars or boxes of various sour, gelatinous candy. The grand celebration takes place once everyone has taken their turn and the team with the most frogs is crowned champion for the year. These lucky individuals are awarded t-shirts customized with their individual and team names—tokens of celebrity that are worn with pride throughout the rest of the week.
• Pizza night: during the years when Janet’s mother, Jean, was still alive and present to preside over the week, all the family units took turns preparing an evening meal for the entire group. This entailed sharing menus, coordinating purchases and setting aside an afternoon to cook for the masses. At the appointed time, everyone would squeeze into one of the condos to load up a plate, find a place to perch and yak until the kids demanded adults to supervise evening pool time at the Athletic Club. When Jean, and then Al, passed away, this tradition fell by the wayside, but it has been replaced by an extended family pizza night. Ten large pizzas from The Old Ice House Pizzeria in Hope, ID will feed the crowd (with leftover galore), and the boxes can be arranged on a picnic table down by the water. Everyone brings a lawn chair, and the grazing commences.
• The Float House: a yearly Watson-family tradition involves dining at the restaurant that floats on the lake adjacent to the Resort. We make a reservation for the nine of us and troop next door for a nice meal on the outdoor deck. Parker and I always celebrate our respective birthdays during the week at the lake, so the dinner doubles as an occasion for age-related merriment (e.g., this year “6-7”).
• The View: perhaps the most enduring and iconic feature of a week at the lake is the view looking west across the water toward Sand Point, ID. The Selkirk mountains rise in the distance, and the Schweitzer Mountain Resort and Ski Area is visible from afar as the pattern of ski runs creates streaks of lighter colored areas stamped on the otherwise dark background. The view is especially breathtaking in the evening as the sun sets over these same peaks. Reflected in the smooth water, now placid as the afternoon winds have died down, the orange and red glow looks like a lantern set on the water to gradually sink into murky depths. Gigabytes of digital photos have captured this glorious display of natural beauty that is burned into my mind and memory for all time.

It makes my heart extremely glad and grateful that we have the privilege of reenacting these moments every July. Years into decades have etched this idyllic week, embued with natural wonder and the strength of family ties, into my spirit. Pend D’Oreille is part of me and I part of it. And the best part is that my children and grandchildren all get to experience this love too!