Chatting Around the Campfire: Lake Ozette II

By Duane Miles

Beginning with this episode, there will be an occasional informational bulletin attached to the column. Each time this bulletin appears, it will be preceded by the words “Catch Up” (Chatting Around the Campfire Hiatus - Update Posting)
Let’s begin with the following somewhat current news.

Western Washington
early archery hunting
for elk ended Sept. 5.
I now will relate why hunting success was not achieved on opening day.
My hunting partner, Bill White, laid out a plan to approach a rendezvous point from two separate departure positions. Along our separate paths, I saw nothing to elevate my excitement level.
He had.
While relishing a meal together at about 10:30, I convinced Bill that a bull elk “in the hand was better than two in the bush.”
Let me explain.
His route to the rendevous point had revealed stimulating evidence of recent inaction between a sizeable herd of elk and a deadly wild creature.
As a consequence, the elk had left the area in a terrifying flight from certain death. I felt that this day old occurence might lead to possible hunting success, while Bill thought an examination of previously rewarding territory in the opposite direction was his preferred course of action.
Read how this day turns out next week.

Now, back to Lake Ozette.
My family owned a 16-foot cabin cruiser. The cabin was just a small pilot house.
I believe the La Chappelle family had a similar boat.
By the way, La Chapelle is pronounced La, as in “Jaw,” Cha, as in “shove,” and ppelle, as in “belle.”
It is very likely the two boats were launched at Deer Bay for the short run around Deer Point into Umbrella Bay.
Here, the two pilots found a safe place to unload passengers and cargo.
We set up our separate camps not far from something which held the greatest fascination to me of that entire camping experience.
Read what that was next week.
In the meantime, here’s another glance at my forthcoming book, “Thus Far.”
One chapter will be devoted to information surrounding the various Forks residences — six of them rentals — my parents have resided in.
In addition to these, we also lived briefly at two non-Forks locations.
During the Forks fire of 1951 (but not because of that fire — see book) my mother and two brothers and I lived in a cabin at my grandmother’s farm in Brinnon on Hood Canal.
Dad remained at his job in Forks during the entire school year of 1950-1951, and then some.
Finally locating a rental in Tyee (now Beaver), my dad moved us back to the West End to a cabin which was located near Chuck Klepp’s “territory” at a place called Rouse Court.
But back to that stay in Brinnon, here is a tale about when I told the most colossal lie of my young life. Not even my mother has heard this story. Please don’t tell her, for it was she who was the victim of my deception.
When you read the rest of this tale, perhaps you’ll sympathize with my dilemma back then at the tender age of eight.

To be continued …

May light for your feet guide you on the path of life until we meet again.
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