Gun Lake: Serene and Lovely
Even during the years Al Capone had a hideout here
It’s our final morning after a couple days of lounging, talking, walking, canoeing, reading, puzzling, and cooking at our friends’ lake house on Gun Lake. It’s pouring outside after a night of crashing thunder, and we’re planning to get on the road after breakfast.
I’ve always loved driving up to Michigan in summer. It can be verdant and beautiful once you get past the ugly refineries, miles of signs lining the highway, and Indiana tollbooths with thirty-car backups because of a guy who tries to go through the IPass-only lane without having an IPass. It happened getting on and getting off.
During one Google Maps detour, we passed a house with a large, handmade sign in its front yard that said, “Biden is a Dumbass.” That sixth-grade insult sure makes me want to consider supporting the incivility, duplicity, and rabid bombast of those who support a convicted felon whose party has written plans to consolidate power to a supreme leader, give the government control of women’s reproductive health, and promote Christian Nationalism (see Project 2025).
I climbed into the bow and David took the stern of our canoe, and from the moment we pulled off the dock, I tried to stop worrying about my children and grandchildren, climate change, the Jihadi war against Israel, the hostages still in Gaza, the poor Gazans being sacrificed by Hamas, an impending Iranian attack, the upcoming election, and everything else that keeps me up at night.
The weekenders were gone, and the lake was still. We glided through lily pads and willowy grasses past lake houses, some modest and others massive, on the surrounding banks. We slid across an expanse of sometimes dark, sometimes clear waters and ducked through a culvert, sweeping our hands against spiderweb crusted metal walls to propel forward.
Our friend, Rob talks about the depth of the muck, how it’s comprised of hundreds of years of sediment. He’s behind us in a kayak, and guesses that if one of us tried to step out in a shallow part of the lake, we’d be sucked down six feet under. That, of course, makes me think of dead bodies, and I ask if any have been found. Rob tells us about Al Capone’s purported hideout, located at Gun Lake’s highest spot so that his henchmen were able to keep an eye out for cars coming from all directions.
The second, connected lake had only two houses, both close to the road that’s over the tunnel. The rest of the lake is a stunning landscape of green. I had to keep switching to the left because my right side will always be weaker from surgery that required cutting through my pectoral muscle and removing most of my lymph nodes. Still, I’ve been doing strength training and yoga for years, and I never stopped rowing.
I suppose puzzling is the closest I come to doing something that doesn’t lead to anything these days — everything else has a purpose. Even my morning walks have underlying health benefits, and I’m aware of how far I go, how fast I move. Canoeing felt like pure fun.
Maybe because David was doing most of the work. Hard to say.
