The Lake Where You Live

Early in our Birch Lake tenure I thought the 57 stairs to the lake would be what finally drove us back to city life and civilization. It turns out the driver might be the pier. After taking the cedar deck sections off the frame and storing them on land, I’m exhausted, hands aching, legs a little wobbly.

Back in 2010, as a strong and healthy 57-year-old, I installed the pier for the first time with help from son Todd. Since then every year I’ve taken it out and put it back in by myself. Now that I’m a relatively strong and pretty much healthy 70-year-old with an atrial-fibrillating heart and sometimes-creaky knees, moving that decking is chore I dread. 

The fall pier removal is the hardest. There are 25 two-by four-foot sections that weigh about 30 pounds apiece. I have to carry them halfway up the stairs to a platform off to the side where I stack them and cover them with a tarp for the winter. I used to finish the job in about half an hour, carrying two sections at a time, suspended at my sides, fingers between two the cedar boards. A decade ago I climbed the stairs briskly, placed each pair on the stack, went back for two more, and just kept going. It tired me out, yes, but it was over quickly.

Now the same job takes an hour and a quarter. Twenty-five pieces mean 13 trips up 28 stairs. I pace myself, ascending slowly, stopping halfway to rest. After stacking each pair I rest again, leaning on the stairway handrail. I descend at a languid pace and when back at the pier pause again, to rest once more and to bolster my nerve for the next trip. If this is hard at age 70, how will it be at 75? At 80 (if I’m so lucky)?

I do have alternatives. I could conscript my son or son-in-law to come north and help, but that’s a three-hour drive for either of them. I could carry one deck section at a time, but that would mean traversing the stairs 25 times, and the climbs up are the hardest part. I could split the task into two days, but it could rain overnight, ruining my plan to put the boards away dry. I could hire a contractor, but for the time being that’s against my frugal nature. I could buy a different pier with lighter components, but that costs a lot more than hiring help. 

Right now I’m just glad the job is done for the year. But I still have to dismantle the metal pier frame and carry the supports and side rails to shore. Then there’s a hilly half-acre of leaves to rake. And after that probably five months of winter, with all the shoveling and snow blowing that entails. I shudder at the thought of another February and March like last year’s. I wonder if at some point living here will just be too hard. 

But there is a bright side: In six weeks or so I’ll be out there pulling bluegills and crappies through holes I’ve drilled in the ice.