Ahh, a day at the lake. Pristine, clear, crisp. Sunlight shimmers in a thousand reflections on the minor ripples, a light breeze saunters toward the shore. Pines, firs, and maples appear twice on the lake edges, connecting with their reflections at the trunk. It’s a day of rest and play. Sounds nice, huh? Well, let me share about our day at the lake.

Some background. The rains in South Dakota have been somewhat relentless this year. The winter season was even a bit harsh. As a result, low valleys, sloughs, and small wetlands have filled in, becoming decent-sized bodies of water- I’ll call them lakes for the humor of it. Some of these lakes have formed on pastures and even some crops and roads, rendering them useless.

A lake has formed and expanded on a corner of a pasture where 30 cows needed to be relocated as soon as possible. The water has risen above the fence-posts, which means the cows would inevitably consider the pasture open-ended and swim across to freedom on the other side unless a new barrier is put in place. The best option is to create something Dean calls a floating fence. To put up the floating fence, at least two people need to get in the water and push a boat while one sits in the boat, helping unravel metal wire and install floating jugs every so often. The floating jugs resemble fence posts to the cows, creating the illusion of a sturdy barrier, even though it’s really just a thin metal wire running through empty plastic jugs (Don’t tell the cows I told you so). One of those two people pushing the boat was me, Dean the other. Jessie sat on the boat, handling much of the fence construction.

The word lake may conjure up an image much like the one that opened this blog, especially if you’re from the Pacific Northwest. What we had to tread through was the size of a lake, the depth of a pond and the muckiness of a slough. Indeed, this is a deep, mucky wetland that goes on and on.

Dean warned me there might be leeches. I’ve never had to deal with leeches, and I hope I never do. If any of you have seen the movie Stand By Me, then you know my entirely legitimate concern, which involves leeches and unmentionables. I was about to face some phobias.

Facing phobias has a way of feeling like facing imminent death. I’m sure imminent death is far more frightening than facing a phobia, but I think phobias offer a tutorial of the experience. I don’t know about you, the idea of entering mucky wetland water where leeches have the potential to exist is a phobia, to say the least. In fact, the lunch I had before I entered the water felt a little ceremonial, like I was fattening up one last time before the slaughter.

When entering the water’s edge, the first event that took place was the desperate flee of several hundred small frogs, hopping in all directions, sloshing the water around Dean’s and my feet (phobia number one). As we descended into the murky depths (phobia number two), water-filled into the boots, then made its way up to my waist region, declaring open season for a Stand By Me moment (phobia number three). Finally, it reached just below my armpits. For Dean, that meant the water was lapping against his chin.

To protect myself, I wrapped the ends of my pant legs with duct tape to keep my jeans around my boots. I also sealed up some important openings and tried to close the small entry points at the top of my jeans. I’d say, pretty sharp.

All the duct tape fell off in about five minutes.

When you’re that deep in the water, it’s already quite difficult to move forward. Add to that resistance hundreds of weeds surrounding you like a dress and the rusty spin of a metal wire. We were trudging at best.

Eventually, the water became too deep to cross, and we ran out of plastic jugs. Dean and I had to head back to the farm to get poles to push the boat and more jugs, leaving Jessie alone on the boat for roughly 45 minutes. Here’s a video to demonstrate Jessie’s experience while we were away.

When we returned, we were able to push ourselves across and complete the floating fence. I can gladly report that no leeches were found on either of us! A couple snails made it into my pants pocket, and four ticks managed to climb up Jessie’s and my legs. A minor offense.

All of this was part of the final touch so that this could happen…

The next day, Dean greeted us with “good” news and bad news. The bad news was that the electric fence on the other end of the pasture was not functioning. He wanted us to clear plants and brush along the wire and see if there were any apparent problems with the connections. Part of this task included entering another “lake” that was about belly-deep. The good news: the cows hadn’t escaped yet! Sure enough, part of the wire was underwater, and it was my job to fix it. What are we doing here, again? Now we’re really hoping the rains subside because we’re quickly growing weary of days at the lake.

Unfortunately, more thunderstorms are in the forecast for the week ahead- a challenging time for farmers in the Midwest. I wonder what surprises will be scratching at our door this week.