Vacationing at the Cabin on the Lake

Eventually Steve started working as a teller at his mother's bank. He was working the day Rhonda walked in with a ski-mask and a shotgun. He had to have known it was her. I suspect that's why the robbery was news to me when Steve's mom called about Rhonda's arrest.

Anyway, having joined the world of work Steve wanted us to take a vacation together. Of course I agreed. We decided a cabin on a lake somewhere fairly close would be nice and started our research.

We ended up selecting a fishing camp on Lake Cumberland. I don't remember how we found it but recall the price was something like $100, in advance, for the entire week. Perfect!

The cabin was rustic if not downright primitive. It featured a screened-in porch, a living room/kitchen combo, a bathroom with no tub or shower, and two sleeping rooms. There was a small refrigerator/freezer, a gas stove, and a giant sink in the kitchen. Fancy.

We brought our swim suits, inflatable rafts for the lake, a couple of decks of cards for Canasta, an early version of a boom box, a refrigerator full of booze, and no fishing gear. I don't remember what we did for food.

To get to the lake you hiked to the end of the gravel road the cabins were on, down a rocky trail to long, steep, stairs descending to a small wooden dock. It wasn't a hike you wanted to make any more often than absolutely necessary.

The distance and the climb made carrying anything a challenge, especially on the return trip. We didn't even try to take the cooler. Wrestling with the rafts was hard enough. By the third day, between too much sun and the effort involved, we quit going to the lake at all.

We sat on the screened-in porch listening to the radio, playing Canasta, and drinking...all day. I kicked his butt over and over because he was just learning a game I'd played for years. Steve didn't like to lose.

It was dark when finally, after yet another defeat, Steve threw his hand across the room and declared our vacation was over. Pack the car up. We're leaving. Now.

It was a long drive back to Lexington. Steve dropped me off at my apartment and returned to Martin. I didn't see him again until after he moved to Atlanta, a year or two later.