Memories of Lake Sherwood

There is a slice of my life that I haven’t written about in our weekly writings. I was married for the first time at the ripe old age of 18.  My husband’s name was Clayton and he loved to explore Wisconsin. We spent weekends visiting forts and locating historical markers. Often, we invited my mom to ride along. She loved being included.

On one of our many adventures, we happened upon Lake Sherwood in Northern Wisconsin. It was a man-made lake formed in the shape of a boomerang. There was a beautiful log building at the apex of the boomerang. Initially, it was used as a sales office and eventually turned over to the landowners. 

The rules said that if you owned a parcel, you could camp on it for the first five years. We took advantage of this time to bring our boat up and spend time boating and water skiing. I loved to water ski. The lake was almost always calm and mirror-like. I spent many hours perfecting my slalom skiing and relaxing on the water. 

Clayton had many talents and he loved sketching designs for the cabin that we would someday build on our land. We started with A-frame designs and eventually moved into chalet designs instead. The chalet style had more wall space and offered an opportunity to use the square footage more efficiently. 

We spent two summers camping on our land and enjoying the water. We would invite Sandy and Art to join us. They brought up their canoe and we spent great times together, on the water. The canoe was perfect for sightseeing and checking the fronts of other cottages on the lake. 

Sadly, Clayton and I separated in the fall of 1969. I think we had married too young and our differences took the joy out of our marriage. We were divorced in June of 1970. 

Many years later, Sandy and I went exploring and visited Lake Sherwood. We found the section that we had owned and on further hunting, we found the exact lot. There was a stone wall that we had built surrounding a small sand beach. We used to ski in from the boat and land on the beach stepping quickly out of our skis. When we visited, the stone wall still stood but the sand beach had eroded. 

There was a cabin on the lot. Clayton no longer owned the property but the cabin showed the designs he had sketched many years ago. It was a sad and sweet day. It reminded me that even though the marriage didn’t survive, the happy summer memories will always be a part of that special time.

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