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Dirty 30's Camping at Atton's Lake

This true story happened many years ago, around the early 1930's. After having worked hard, one summer during the drought and depression years, we asked our Dad, Oscar Foisy, for three days of camping at Atton's Lake. So, the four brothers, Joseph, Noel, Eugene and I, Florent, all decided to hitch up a team of horses on the wagon that had the grain box on it. We had no tent to sleep in, but the grain box would become our sleeping quarters. Our Mom gave us some old blankets and pillows, but certainly no mattress; so instead, we used some hay for padding in the bottom of the grain wagon.

Mom also supplied us with enough home-baked bread, a large smoked ham, some oven-baked beans, carrots, apples, etc., and a lot of home-made cookies for survival. We had taken along some saw dust with a good chunk of ice in a wooden box to keep our ham and beans cool. We also had four old worn out binder canvasses that we used to create a kind of roof over the grain box, in case of rain during our stay.

Dad gave all four of us only what he could afford, which was a beautiful $2.00 bill. During these depression and drought years, that was a lot of pocket money. So away we went early Friday morning, knowing we had to be back by Sunday evening. We lived 1½ miles West of Wilbert, or 8½ miles West of Cut Knife. From Cut Knife, we then had to reach Atton's Lake. Travelling at the horses' pace took a long time on the road, therefore dampening our camping enthusiasm considerably. We were not sure where we would set up camp once there; also we were afraid to be noticed and be chased away, as we had no business using private land without permission. We nearly had to act as outlaws and sneak about in secrecy.

We found a favourable spot, away from the scattered cottages (probably where the Lake's golf course is now) since we had no money to pay for space to set up our camp. So we picked an area where there was a small aspen bluff surrounding a tiny dried-up slough, making it perfect for a hideout. That way, probably no one would ever notice us and the aspen bluff would prevent any noise, made by us or the horses, from being heard outside of our hiding spot. We were scared to be spotted and were hoping to be in total seclusion. Once there, we had to unload the hay and oats that we had taken along to feed the horses, as we didn't dare turning them loose to graze in the open spaces. We were camping as illegal squatters.

After setting up camp inside the aspen bluff, we wanted to try fishing from the shoreline of the Lake. We had brought along a binder whip (used during the horse-drawn binder era) as a fishing rod and some black and gray fishing lines, and Dad had given us a trolling spoon. In no time, we caught 8 to 10 pikes, but we released them because we did not want to make a fire to cook them as this would have been like an Indian smoke signal. We caught them only for our own pleasure. Then, by foot, before the evening meal, we went to investigate the surroundings and the summer places of Atton's Lake, just to get oriented.

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Florent Foisy
2007



Credits:
Foisy, Florent

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On Saturday, we did nothing at all and plainly relaxed; but during the evening, we wanted to go and see what was going on at the Lake's dance hall. Of course, the four of us left the camp on foot and found that dance hall easily. At that time, we were too young to get in, but at least, we could sneak a peek inside through the many large openings. To our great satisfaction, we saw and heard a real orchestra playing that night. We sure enjoyed such music and we were glad to see them in person. It was unique for us to have that opportunity, as there was no TV in these old days to see live shows, of course.

At the end of that evening, there came lightning and loud claps of thunder. Then a deluge came down on Atton's Lake by about 11:00pm. We could not get inside (too young for that), so after an hour of this storm, we were all soaking wet. That heavy rain storm sure came down hard and never seemed to come to an end. Since we were wet to the bones, the only alternative was to go back to the grain wagon, which was also our camp, hoping that the binder canvasses had held up in the storm, which luckily they had. But getting from the dance hall to our wagon and hideout in pitch black darkness was no fun as you can imagine. There were only rough prairie trails then, and two ruts of that trail to follow back to our spot. It was so dark with absolutely no lights on that road, that the only way not to get lost was to bend down and walk on all fours in the ruts full of mud. Well, we did finally manage to get there, tired, nervous and exhausted…

No need to say that we could not get into dry clothing as we had no extra clothes to change into. What a miserable night it was! All wet, we struggled and managed to wrap ourselves into whatever we could find and waited for the morning to come. That happened to be a very long night for the four of us. To top it all off, our dried-up slough had nearly filled up with that torrential deluge and had soaked everything that we had left there.

The next day, Sunday morning, a beautiful sun was shining and we soaked ourselves in its warm, strong rays to dry up a bit. Sadly, that Sunday afternoon, an accident happened at the Lake. Someone had drowned and many volunteers tried to rescue the victim, but without success. What a weekend it had been for us boys. We could have spent our three days at home and enjoyed full relaxation, but we wanted to get out and see the outside world.

So camping had ended and the horses were hitched up to the grain wagon by 4:00pm on Sunday for the trek back home to Wilbert. The camping was a total failure and a great disappointment. Yet, we still had the $2.00 that Dad had given us, as we apparently did not know how to spend it. Money meant so much for our family during those drought and depression years! But we all lived through them and these episodes now remain forever engraved in history books and among our numerous souvenirs.