Lake McConaughy, Nebraska
 
 

             This is a very large lake in Nebraska which seems to be the recreation center of the state as far as I can tell.  It is about 22 miles long and probably 5 miles wide.  I first traveled there in July of 1997 with Andra, Amber Berryman, Matt Perry, Val Calvillo and Chris Knight.  We had a miserable time by and large.  The biting flies were murderous and as long as the sun was up, they were biting.  One either had to swim very far out into the lake or remain completely covered with towels and clothing to escape them, and even then it wasn't always foolproof.  I awoke inside my towel cacoon many times to feel flies that had crawled under my towel biting the crap out of me.  It is an excellent lake to swim in though, and for this is it fun.  The beaches are wide and sandy like an ocean's, and the water is cool and clear, with a nice smooth sandy bottom.  It is very pleasant to swim in.  On the first trip, we stayed on the north shore near Arthur bay, and were swamped by thousands of campers, such that our tent was no more than ten feet away from the next, and the entire beach was like that.  There is little fun in that kind of communal camping.  It was like a Hoovertown.
    The second trip to Lake Maconaughy Andra and I went by ourselves, taking along Frank, of course.  This trip we took in August of 1999.  We arrived late at night on the north shore and set up camp.  We were there no more than twenty minutes before some jerk (and that's a nice term for this putz) backed his trailor down the beach to within ten feet of our tent.  Then his stupid screaming %$@$^!! kids flooded out and caused Frank all sorts of distress.  Andra and I were both displeased.  Jerk.  The next morning I got up at dawn before the sleeping idiot campers next to us and waded in the nice still water.  Frank had never been swimming before, and I was anxious to see how he'd take to it.  He swam very fluidly from the start. I enjoyed swimming with him in the early morning when it was still quiet and cool.  I could hear each little splash he made and the funny manner he breathed in the water. The water of this lake is still for only 20 minutes of daylight each day, before the stinking waterboats and jet skis foul the water and air with smoke, noise and waves. After wading for twenty minutes, I went back to shore and was assaulted by a swarm of flies.  I tried to jog away from them, but they stuck ....like flies.  If I was uncomfortable, Frank was absolutely miserable.  He had flies by the thousands plastered on him sucking his blood through his thin and unprotective layer of fur.  I tried to keep them off of him, but everytime he stopped running, they were on him immedietly.  I got him back into the tent with as few flies as possible and explained the hellish situation to Andra.  We decided that, given the crowded beach, the jerks next door and Frank's problems with the flies, that we would leave this area and go to the north shore in search of more secluded areas.  We didn't even take down the tent completely, or pack up our sleeping bags.  We yanked everything up and threw it in the car as it was and sped off.
    The south shore proved quite an adventure.  We traversed a 4-wheel drive road to get there, and found abundant isolated beach space.  It wasn't nearly as large or nice as the south shore, but it was free of flies and most importantly, free of people. Andra and I found an idyllic location on the shore near Kelly Canyon with several hundred feet of beach buffer between us and the next camp.  Here we lazed the day away in the water and in the shade, enjoying the cool breezes and playing frisbee with Frank by the hour.  He was the go-go doggy until mid afternoon when he collapsed and didn't move for the rest of the day. The funiest thing was when you would pick him up while he was swimming in the water.  If he was still touching water, he would slowly paddle his feet in obeyance of his instinct.  It was a panic. That night we cooked hot dogs on an open fire on the beach with the waves crashing softly on the shore. The wind picked up severely that night and by morning it was threatening to rain.  We packed up camp hurredly and got the car packed just as it first started to  shower.  It rained the entire way back to Ft. Collins.
    Overall I'd have to say my time at Lake McConaughy has been unpleasant.  Except for the one day of peaceful swimming, the rest of the trip times were dominated by too much motorized activity, too many people, too much noise, too much developement and too many bloodsucking insects (no doubt drawn to the amazingly high density of willing prey). I have yet to see a recreational location more destroyed by human activity than this place, but then, human activity created this place (it's a reservoir), so I guess it balances out.

 
 


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