June was a month for swimming at the racquet club and catching blue-bellied skinks up behind the junior high, but more importantly June was the month for opening our cabin at Bear Lake. The cabin really wasn't ours at all; it belonged to my Grandpa Mac, but he let us use it anytime we wanted, and the deed was in my mom's name, so I felt like it was ours. Washington Elementary, where I went to school, had let out a few weeks before, so I knew the trip would be coming up. It was a Friday when we finally left. After we had loaded up the car, a Pontiac station wagon that Mom called Nelly, we were on our way. Dad sat in the front, driving. We usually went to the cabin three or four times a summer, but there was always something about the first visit, something almost mystical.
Inscape: Vol. 5:
1, Article 3.
Available at: https://scholarsarchive.byu.edu/inscape/vol5/iss1/3