Fat Ladies Race By DICK WILDS My mother was truly different. Other women, when they became quite heavy, were ashamed of their weight and took great pains in concealing their double chins and bulges. But my mother didn't try to hide her weight. Indeed, she was proud of her one hundred and seventy-six pounds. She was different from other women in another way, too. Unlike most mothers, she permitted her three sons to call her by her nickname, "Dot." I never knew how she acquired that nickname. It seems to be a strange one for a person whose real name is Catharine. But, just the same, people called her "Dot" and she liked it. Dot liked outdoor life. She loved to camp, hike and fish. But she really wasn't a good fisherman. She never made any big catches, but that didn't discourage her. It was still great fun. One summer Dot took my brothers and me to my Uncle Joe and Aunt Cora's cabin near East Towers, Michigan. The cabin was nestled among the tall pines on the shore of Lake Huron. It was a beautiful spot. When we arrived at the cabin we were greeted by Uncle Joe and Aunt Cora. Cora looked a lot like mother, except her hair was a lighter blonde than Dot's, and she outweighed my nother by approximately five or six pounds. We spent the first day getting things organized in prepara-ion for our vacation. The next morning we were all up early for a cool plunge n the lake. Aunt Cora couldn't come with us because she didn't have a bathing suit that would fit her. But Dot had her swimming suit and she was eager to make use of it. She raced us to the beach, but we were much too fast for her. When she finally arrived at the beach, she was exhausted, and had to rest a few minutes on a log before going into the water. After we had finished swimming, we went back to the cabin for a nice hot breakfast that had been prepared by Aunt Cora. While we were eating, Dot and Cora became engaged in a friendly argument. The argument resulted in a bet between Cora and Dot. Five dollars was to be paid to the heavier of the two women on the last day of vacation. Our meals for the remaining two weeks were accompanied by a great deal of joking and laughter. The two women ate like lumberjacks and made frequent trips to the bathroom scales. Aunt Cora had to go into town to buy several larger dresses, and Dot could no longer go swimming with us. She had become too fat for her bathing suit. When the vacation finally ended, Aunt Cora weighed one hundred ninety-two pounds and Dot weighed one hundred and eighty-three pounds. Since my mother had lost, she paid her part of the bet by taking us all out for a big dinner. As we drove home I remember hearing my little brother say, "Dot, do you know why I love you so much?" "No, dear, I don't," she replied. "Well, I love you so much . . . because there's so much of you to love." FLIES, FLAPJACKS, AND A FOUR-WHEEL COLLEGE (Continued from page 18) Twenty-seven of the group were students. One teacher from the U. S. A. C. and two persons from Dayton, Ohio, who had heard about the College on Wheels, also made the trip. Mr. Buss has a few dream trips for the College to take as soon as the cost can be cut down enough for the average student to make the trip. A few of these dream trips are, to Alaska, the Gulf of St. Lawrence, Hawaii, and another trip to a different part of Mexico when a new highway is completed. Geodicipulus, a geology club at Weber College, last summer made an outstanding tour of the Northwest, headed by its president, Hubert C. Lambert. From Ogden the club members headed north through Idaho up to the Leonard mines at Butte, Montana, then on to Glacier National Park, Waterton Lakes National Park and Alberta, Canada. At Leduc oil fields near Edmonton, the travelers watched the drilling operations, then went on to Jasper National Park, a wilderness area. Here the wild life such as deer, moose, elk, bear, antelope and beaver was easily observed. The trout fishing was excellent. Members of the club also climbed Angel Glacier and visited the Columbia Ice Fields, largest ice area in the Canadian Rockies. Here, over 150 square miles of glaciers are spilling out in all directions. According to Mr. Lambert, "The Canadian Rockies are one of the most scenic, rugged and primitive areas left on North America." Rugged peaks reach far into the sky. At the foot of many are icy lakes teeming with trout. On the way back home the members saw Lake Louise, which is a Canadian glacial lake, and the Columbia river and Grand Coulee dam in Washington. In northern Idaho they saw beautiful Lake Coeur d'Alene and near Boise they saw a forest fire. The trip lasted for fourteen days. Members traveled over 3200 miles. Transportation was provided by three cars and a truck for carrying equipment. Geodicipulus club members had a great time and the best of luck on their trip. They had only one short rainstorm and only two flat tires during the entire trip. Everyone hated to come back home and all the members want to go back again. Mr. Lambert stated that the club members were good sports and a lot of fun. Page 20 Winter Fishing By DICK WILDS One sport that the people of most states are deprived of is winter fishing. This type of fishing is truly a great and interesting sport. In the Upper Peninsula of Michigan the sport is legal and the people there look forward to this colder fishing season with as much enthusiasm as they do the summer fishing season. In the latter part of the fall the fisherman builds his fishing shack. It is not necessary to build a new shack every year, but if the one used during the previous year has been destroyed, a new one must be built. The frame for the little shack is built of lathe and covered with thick sheets of tarpaper. The floor is made of pine boards. A hole about one foot in width and two feet in length is left in the floor. The whole shack is usually about six feet high and six by eight feet at the base. As winter descends upon the land, the rivers and lakes freeze over with two or more feet of ice. As soon as the ice is thick enough to support an automobile or a team of horses, the fisherman loads his little shed upon a sled and hauls it out onto the ice with horses or whatever means are available. Selecting a location for the fishing shack is an important factor. Usually, the fisherman places his shanty near the shore where the water is just a little more than six feet deep. Most winter fishing is done on the St. Mary's river in the Upper Peninsula. This river is from one to six miles wide in many places. It is fairly easy to imagine the fate of any fisherman who is out in the middle of the river when the ice begins to crack and flow downstream. It is best to play safe by putting your shack close to shore. When a location has been decided upon, the fisherman sweeps away the layer of snow that covers the ice. He proceeds to chop a hole in the hard ice. When he has chopped the hole all the way through, he finishes it by sawing it to the same dimensions as the hole that was left in the floor of his shack. The shack is then placed over the hole so that the hole in the floor of the shack is directly over the hole in the ice. Furnishings for the shack are few. They include a small pot-bellied stove, a pile of firewood, a stool, a kerosene lantern and a coffee pot or pan in which the fisherman may make some coffee or warm some soup to keep himself warm during the night. Winter fishermen fish for pike, trout, bass, perch, and herring. Usually the herring attract more attention than the other species. The big herring run usually begins in the late fall. They swim downstream in large schools that would raise the sporting spirit of any fisherman. The sportsmen, therefore, often begin fishing on the first night after their shacks have been placed upon the ice. People in the Upper Peninsula prefer to do their fishing on a very dark night. They believe that the herring do not run when the moon is bright. And, strangely enough, that is a fact. Herring are very skimpy on bright, moonlit nights. The sportsman brings an extra lantern, a spear and a decoy with him to the shack on the night when he begins fishing. The decoy is an imitation of a fish. It may be homemade or it can be an ordinary fishing plug. The spear is from five to seven feet long and about the same thickness as a broomstick. The spearhead has from five to ten sharp prongs on it. The prongs are arranged in a fashion similar to the tines on a table fork. Each one is equal in length, about four inches, with a small barb on the end of it. On the opposite end of the spear is attached a piece of rope about three or four feet long. When the man arrives at his shack, he sweeps a spot of the ice until it is clean. He lights the extra lantern, places it on the clear spot and covers it with a bushel basket. This is done to attract the fish. They swim toward the light and in doing so they pass the hole under the shack or they may be attracted to that hole where the fisherman is waiting with poised spear. The man waits inside the shack with his spear in one hand, and with his other hand he manipulates the decoy. The rope from the spear is wound around his wrist and is tied securely. At the edge of the hole is a lantern. Quietly, patiently, he waits until some unsuspecting fish sees the light and is lured toward the hole. As the fish nears the hole, the fisherman maneuvers his decoy in such a manner as to coax it into a more convenient position for spearing. He carefully aims his spear so that it will hit the fish just behind the gills, thus preventing total destruction of the edible parts. When he is sure of his aim, he quickly thrusts the spear toward its objective. The spear strikes the fish and sinks toward the river bottom. The man then pulls it back up as quickly as possible and removes the fish from the prongs. That is the first catch. It is truly a worthwhile and exciting sport. Try it sometime. A PARABLE IN POETRY A rose twig gazed upon the lattice-work And scornfully flounced her leaves, "My hack is strong And I'm not bending to a stick of wood," She cried. The months slipped by and 'twasn't long Before the winds grew much too hard for her And then she grasped the trellis with full shame And once the deed was done, 'twas fun, she found, To blend yourself to meet another's aim. Ann Crary Page 21