Do you hear the bullfrogs?

This is the Valsetz lake I grew up next to. The lake has since been drained. This picture reminds me of fishing for trout or bass knowing I needed to get home before to long. If you listen real close you can hear the bullfrogs calling to each other; Muuuhmmmph, muuuhmmph, muuuhmmph.

This lake was home to not only some of my memories but creatures like salamaders which we called, "Water Dogs". On occasions you could catch otters at play, spook a variety of ducks and find a beaver or two hard at work.

Closer to the mill where most of the men worked in our town, there were several abandoned log rafts that had been left to rot over the years. The logs would be bordered by a circle of logs bound together to hold the others in place. It was customary for the adventurous types like myself to get out on those logs and run across them. It was dangerous sport; skipping logs.

As you ran across the logs they would turn and buck and sink, so you had to be quick-footed and have the ability to truly think on your feet. If you were looking for a little more danger you would run across a field of "lillypads". The type of lillypads I'm talking about are log ends not the plant type. They required a lot more foot work then the logs.

Our folks always warned us about skipping logs because you could fall betwen the logs and drown. At ten or twelve drowning was the furthest thing from my mind. I actually never knew of anyone that had drowned skipping logs but I had a few close encounters as I remember.

The worst was when Phil and I were out skipping logs one day and I looked toward the bank and saw my mom standing next to our red and white VW bus. I could see from that distance she wasn't all too happy. I turned toward home and sprinted across logs, lillypads and I think water, ran down the tracks and up the gravel road. As I got into the drive way of our home my mom was pulling up in front of the house.

I think she was a little worried of me drowning so she beat my butt with a spatula. I am reminded of that day every time I flip an egg.