I couldn’t help it. As a walked along what was just two days ago a “lake bed”, in my mind I kept hearing bits of Monty Python’s Parrort sketch. . .

“E’s not pinin’! ‘E’s passed on! This parrot is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of life, ‘e rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed ‘im to the perch ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-PARROT!!”

Now from a kayaker’s perspective Lake Delton is (was) not a paddlers paradise. It was in fact one of those million dollar resort encased lakes where beer fuelled tourists raced bow to stern in high octane, blue clouded mayhem. The bits in between were filled with jet skis, WWII DUCKS, and human bodies being towed at insane speeds through the water or dangling from para sails. Chances are there are no paddlers feeling like they lost their little bit of paradise.

Economically however Lake Delton is (was) a major part of the tourism industry in Wisconsin Dells. Those high priced resorts & opulent condos have been spreading along the shoreline like cattails the last few years. Million dollar investments cannot of course afford any down time in a short summer season. Now the mad rush is on to present the good face and keep the tourists coming. It strikes me as something akin to the good Mayer Vaughn shouting that the beaches are still open. . . “After all, Amity Means Friendship.”

There is another side as well. Small family owned motels that sat on the lake shore long before water was reserved for the rich. These little 10 or 20 room motels plugged along. Many of them owned by couples or families that just survived season by season still catering to young couples and families without the means to afford all the brass & tinted bay windows. Some of these folks will not survive the season. Some have called in their chips already, while others are holding on hoping that they will keep enough business to survive the winter.

The upside of all the money placed around this little lake is that the state governor was immediately working to get the lake filled, no questions asked. Even if there may be some legitimate questions to ask, they won’t be. This lake must return and fast. . . and it will.

So while I was walking along the lake bed taking note of the hundreds of dead fish, the child’s sled, the axe hewn old bridge that had once crossed the stream that fed this lake, I was also thinking about what must be going on in some room somewhere downtown, where the city fathers sit listen to the engineers and Natural Resources officials. I was imagining one guy somewhere in the back of the room with a construction company hat on dragging his fingernails across a white board. (yeah, it’s not the same is it??). . .

“And we gotta do it quick, that’ll bring back your tourists, put all your businesses on a payin’ basis. But it’s not gonna be pleasant. I value my neck a lot more than three thousand bucks, chief. I’ll find him for three, but I’ll catch him, and kill him, for ten. But you’ve gotta make up your minds. If you want to stay alive, then ante up. If you want to play it cheap, be on welfare the whole winter. I don’t want no volunteers, I don’t want no mates, there’s too many captains on this island. Ten thousand dollars for me by myself. For that you get the head, the tail, the whole damn thing.”

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