High Water In A Shallow Lake

Lake Erie is the shallowest of the five Great Lakes.  This spring, however, the constant rains have raised the level of the Lake by almost three feet.  In some places, like Sandusky, the water levels are the highest that have ever been recorded.

The high water levels are doing some real damage, too.  Some docks and parts of shorelines have become submerged, and increased erosion caused by the high waters is eating away the Lake Erie coastline.  From the North Coast communities of Mentor to Vermilion to Sandusky, officials are dealing with the impact of high water taking down trees, rendering docks inaccessible, and leaving low-lying areas underwater, and homeowners along the lake also are dealing with flooding issues.   The water levels in Sandusky are so high that the normal outfalls from Sandusky Bay to Lake Erie have been reversed, and water from the lake is now raising the water levels in the bay — causing officials to take drastic actions to try to pump the excess water out.  And the impact of the rain and high water has been compounded by a persistent wind from the north that is pushing the Lake Erie waters against the Ohio coast of the lake, increasing the damage.

The conditions pose special peril for boaters, in ways you might not expect.  The high waters will affect bridge clearances over lagoons and access rivers and is submerging some break walls that would otherwise be visible.  And, with increased erosion and trees collapsing into the lake, there is increased risk of debris messing with motors and propellers — all of which means that boaters had better watch it when they are close to shore.  And any experienced Lake Erie boater will tell you that the lake is legendary for its sudden storms that can appear in the blink of an eye, whip the water into a frenzy, and, in some instances, put boaters at risk of losing their boat — and their life.  The high waters won’t help in that category, either.

One lesson that you learn from reading about the impact of high water levels — there’s not much human beings can do about it, short term.  What the communities around Lake Erie need right now is a break in the constant rains and a period of sunshine and warm temperatures to allow evaporation to play its intended role and reduce lake levels back to normal.  In short, we need Mother Nature to show us a little mercy.

Vermilion’s Moment In The Sun

Kish hails from Vermilion, Ohio.  It’s a town located right on Lake Erie, about halfway between Cleveland and Toledo.  By virtue of its location, it’s got strong ties to water and boating — there’s a yacht club, the local water tower has an anchor painted on it, and the high school team name is the Sailors, for example — but I’ve always thought of it just as Kish’s home town, and not as a coastal tourist destination.

Recently, Vermilion got some nice national recognition.  It’s been named one of the 10 best coastal small towns in America by the USA Today Reader’s Choice Awards.

Vermilion placed fourth after evaluation by experts — which makes me wonder how you become an “expert” on cool coastal towns, and how I can sign up for that gig — and readers.  The text on Vermilion says: “Vermilion, located on the south shore of Lake Erie, feels more like a New England seaport, complete with a historic lighthouse and rich nautical heritage. Popular in the warm summer months, Vermilion’s walkable streets feature small boutique shops, art galleries, ice cream parlors and local restaurants, and summer evenings often involve concerts on the green.”

I’ve been visiting Vermilion since the ’70s, and I’ve always thought it was a nice place.  But, like most of the laid-back, reserved Midwest, Vermilion doesn’t really blow its own horn.  It’s got that nice “boats on the waterfront” feel, but without the alcohol-fueled craziness that you find in Put-in-Bay and other waterfront locations.  The downtown area. which is a short walk from the Lake Erie shoreline, has a vintage Americana vibe, and there are good places to eat, too.

Kish still has family in Vermilion, and I know from our recent visits that the people up there are working hard to make their nice little town even better.  I’m glad to see that their efforts have been rewarded.  If you’re in the Midwest and want to check out a cool coastal town, Vermilion is worth a visit.

In Linwood Park

On our one-day visit to Vermilion for the VHS Class of ’75 reunion, we spent the night in rooms in Linwood Park.  It’s the first time I’ve been to Linwood Park, or even heard of it, and I’ve been going to Vermilion for about 40 years.

Linwood Park describes itself as a “family park,” but it really reminds you of an old-fashioned American summer colony.  Located right on the shores of Lake Erie, it is a quiet enclave of white wooden cottages with lots of kids playing outside on the wide, shaded lawns, a nice beach, a small store, a candy store/grill/ice cream shop, and a tabernacle.  We stayed in rooms above the ice cream shop and treated ourselves to the beach before and after the reunion.

Visiting Linwood Park is like taking a throwback journey to an earlier, more relaxed, pre-cell phone and social media America, when riding bikes and playing on a playground and treating yourself to some penny candy was all a kid wanted on a fine summer’s day.  It’s hard to believe it’s still here — but it is, just like it’s been for more than 100 years.  It’s worth a visit.

Bonfire Ready

We’re up in the Vermilion area for Kish’s high school reunion.  When’re staying in Linwood, a long-standing community that has a great beach by Lake Erie standards.  Some thoughtful soul has already assembled a pile of driftwood for the bonfire later tonight.

Stone Story

We were walking around Vermilion Saturday morning.  When we got down to the Main Street beach and were looking for a place to sit, I noticed a bunch of brightly painted stones with inspirational messages on one of the benches.  I groaned and thought that some vendor had decided to use a public seating area as a display table.  Pretty bogus!

But I was wrong.  In fact, the stones weren’t for sale.  They were free to whoever wanted to take one.  There was a laminated sign that explained the back story, and a battered notebook where people who took a stone could leave a note of their own.

The sign, signed “Me” with a heart symbol, said:

“Been thinking of someone lately??  of course you have!  and don’t forget #1

YOU!!

please take a rock (or two . . . or three) they are free!!

use them to brighten your day or someone else’s!

Please Remember:

Be Kind

Love Freely

Pay It Forward”

A number of people who had taken stones and appreciated the gesture had written messages in the battered notebook; I assume that “Me” came by at night to gather the notebook and the stones and came back early in the morning to set them out again.

I didn’t take a stone because I didn’t think I needed one.  Why not leave them for people who really need a boost in their lives, and need an affirmation that a complete stranger is willing to take the time to find and paint rocks that just might brighten their day?  For all of the negativity in the world right now, there is still some simple goodness out there, too.  It’s nice to see tangible evidence of it now and then.

Erie Setting (III)

A beautiful Lake Erie sunset from Vermilion’s Main Street beach.

Farmers’ Fantasy

It’s high season for farmers’ markets in Ohio.  At the Vermilion market, a Mennonite family was offering loads of tomatoes, peaches, cucumbers, peppers, sweet corn, jelly, and just about anything else that comes out of the ground with a little hard work.

Oh, and a wheelbarrow full of watermelons and cantaloupes, too.

I don’t eat most of the offerings, but I like the colors and the smells.

34

On April 3, 1982, 34 years ago, Kish and I got married in Vermilion, Ohio.  It was her father’s birthday, and the weather then was just like the weather is today.  It had been nice and sunny a day or two earlier, but the clouds rolled in and the wind blew and on our wedding day it was brutally cold with snow squalls.

It’s about 6:30 a.m. as I write this.  By that time 34 years ago, I had been up for at least an hour already, after tossing and turning for most of the night.  I was filled with adrenalin, excited and nervous.  I knew I was making the right decision, but I was worried about screwing something up during the ceremony or the reception afterward.  So I got up and, in those pre-internet days, sat in my room and tried to read a book and then walked the halls for a while to deal with the burst of jittery energy.

Fortunately, Kish and I had decided to keep the wedding ceremony itself short.  We had stripped out pretty much everything but the bare minimum required of a service in her family church.  To this day, dozens of weddings later, our own wedding is the shortest wedding ceremony I’ve ever attended.  I needed to walk out to my position in front of the altar without tripping, hold Kish’s hand after she and her Dad had walked down the aisle, say I do a few minutes later, put the ring on without dropping it, and then walk out with my lovely bride.  I thought I could handle it, and later that day I did.  Seeing Kish looking beautiful in her wedding gown helped a lot.

The whole ceremony took about 15 minutes, but they were momentous minutes indeed. More than three decades later, the memories are still vivid, and the decision remains the best decision I ever made.  Happy anniversary, Skipper!

Wally The Walleye

At one of the corners of the main intersection in Vermilion, Ohio, you will find Wally The Walleye. Wally is a good-sized metal sculpture that appears to be anatomically accurate –he’s even got a lure in his mouth — but rather than standard scales he’s got fish representations on his shiny skin.

Wally is part of the “Follow The Fish” Art and Adventure Trail along Lake Erie. He was sponsored by the Greater Cleveland Aquarium. As is the case with so much public art, Wally adds a very nice and distinctive touch to his little corner of the world. The Follow The Fish Trail is a cool idea.

Home Of The Sailors

Kish and I are up in Vermilion, Ohio for a family bridal shower. Because I’d rather thrust rusty screwdrivers under my fingernails than participate in a bridal shower, I’m spending a soggy Saturday knocking around the downtown area of Kish’s home town.

Vermilion is a cool place. Located right on Lake Erie, about halfway between Cleveland and Toledo, it’s got a clear nautical orientation. The high school football team is the Sailors, there are boats pretty much everywhere you look, and there’s a well-stocked bait shop right in the center of town. It’s one of the best places in the world to get a Lake Erie perch dinner — and anyone who has had a fresh, hot, fried Lake Erie perch dinner knows that’s the best fish you can eat, period.

Lake Erie is vast — it is a Great Lake, after all — and choppy on a day like today. A landlubber like me is endlessly fascinated by anchors, and masts, and rigging, and large mooring pylons that look massive enough to hold a freighter hard against a pier. They can be found in Vermilion in abundance. With its quaint buildings, white wooden frame houses by the lake, and the ever-present sound of water slapping against docks, Vermilion is like Ohio’s special little slice of New England.

Cruising Vermilion’s Lagoons

We were in Vermilion today and had lunch at the Vermilion Boat Club.  It was a perfect, cloudless spring day, and the boaters were out enjoying the weather and water.  This photo was taken from the VBC docks looking northwest at the lagoon that leads out to Lake Erie.

30 Wonderful Years

Today is Kish’s and my 30th wedding anniversary.  They have been 30 wonderful years — but it’s still hard to believe it has been 30 years since that special day when we tied the knot.

It had been warm and in the 60s only a day or two before, but April weather in Ohio is notoriously unpredictable.  A cold front moved in, and when April 3, 1982 dawned in Vermilion, Ohio it was frigid, with snow falling and a brisk wind blowing.  We were married in Kish’s family church by a minister we really didn’t know.  He had insisted on counseling us about marriage; it’s always made me chuckle that he was divorced within a year or so while Kish and I have somehow muddled through and remained happily married for decades.  Perhaps he’s just an example of the old saying “those who can’t do, teach.”

We kept the ceremony as short as we could, consistent with the requirements of the church.  The entire service, from beginning to end, took about 12 minutes.  We planned it so that we didn’t have to light candles, read scriptures, or really do much of anything other than remain upright and repeat our vows.

I was glad the ceremony was short and simple, because I was nervous.  UJ, my best man, and I stayed in the baptismal tank until we were summoned into a full church.  I stood there, uncomfortable being the center of attention in my traditional black tuxedo, but felt a lot better when I saw Kish coming up the aisle, looking cool and beautiful and radiant in her lacy white wedding gown.  I knew that I was making a smart decision, and I was right.

The Vermilion Town Hall

The Vermilion Town Hall is found on one of the wooded town squares near the railroad tracks and the downtown area.  It was built in 1883, at a time when Ohio was booming and towns like Vermilion were interested in displaying their prosperity and success in tangible form.  Town halls were good ways to make that kind of statement in a civic-minded, yet unmistakable, way.

The Town Hall is an imposing brick structure with an eclectic architectural style that includes large circular windows, towers, and an odd bit of ornamental work over the doorway that looks like two swans yelling at each other.  I’m sure the distinctive architectural flourishes were the source of great pride when the Town Hall was built in the 1880s — but now, perhaps, the town government may look at them more as the subject of nagging, and ongoing, maintenance costs.

The Old Public School

On Route 60, on the outskirts of Vermilion, sits the decaying edifice of the Vermilion Public School.  It is a huge brick building with multiple floors – the kind of school that would not be built today, in our era of single floor facilities.

Although the building seems to be in significant disrepair, the lovely front entrance, with its graceful multiple arches, has escaped the ravages of time.  Looking at it today, it’s not hard to imagine the children of Vermilion streaming through that front door, books in hand, chattering with their classmates and ready for another day of school.