ScuttleBu(r)t: Camps at Gibbs City and Vegas
With our area football teams not reaching the semifinal level of the state playoffs, yours truly finally made it to deer camp. I had a grand old time in a Gibbs City camp, located outside of Iron River.
I started off with goose sausage and a couple cold ones while planted in front of the TV with Michigan-Indiana football. The dinner was fantastic — pasta, Italian sausage, salad, Bessemer bread and dessert. The night was capped with relatives and friends telling stories from way back.
As one of my cousins reminded me, they were scared straight when told they would join Burt at the Minnesota reform school Shattuck if they didn’t straighten up. (While they stayed at home picking rocks and baling hay at the farm, my three summers of reform school consisted of math classes, ROTC training, sports, shaving cream fights and Twins games. I couldn’t convince my parents I needed a fourth year).
I hope I’m invited back to deer camp. Cousin Eddie wants blueberry pie next year.
My “camp” trips in the past occurred right after the football season and before basketball, heading to Greengrove in Las Vegas where Albert H. and D. Roy had everything I needed.
Along with the “world’s greatest” shower and swimming pool, the The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf and Smith’s grocery store was a short walk away from “camp.” Sun every day and war won ton soup helped compensate for returning home “poorer but wiser” at gambling.
I’m grateful to D. Roy that we’re bound for Vegas, but this time back at The Orleans. A Keno winner or two would make this a really special year for going to camp at Gibbs City and Las Vegas …