Free-Range Jack

On our July camping trip to northeast Wisconsin, there was one campsite between us and the boat landing. That meant we could hear the variety of activity which took place at that location. The activity varied from swimmers, to fishing, to persons putting in or taking out water craft.  We, ourselves, most of the time took the kayak to and from the boat landing to make it easier to put in since there was not good spot along or closer to our campsite.  The main activity at that boat landing involved two boys, perhaps 7 and 9 years of age who fished there in various parts of the day. These two boys were never accompanied by an adult so they were what we in the planning world called free-range children.

These two boys would fish from the pier.  They could be seen or heard at the boat landing in the morning, afternoon, evening, and even past sunset dark. I never saw them swim. But I did see one jump in the water at the boat landing, and he quickly found out it was deeper than he thought-like up to his waist. They camped on our loop, but near the other end, and they either walked or biked to fish. I think they walked more often than biked, probably because they found walking easier to carry their fishing poles. They never had a tackle box. They fished from the boat landing on the lake the campground is located, and they fished, by biking to the boat landing for a different lake at which the swim beach is located.  I am not sure they ever caught much. the fish in the campground lake are plentiful but very small, at least what a Forest Service fishery technician told me in June.  One day Land Girl and I took the kayak to the boat landing on the campground lake, just a site away from our campsite, so Land Girl could kayak. The two boys were fishing at the time. As Land Girl, who now became a Water Girl (as she was in the kayak), paddled out into the deep blue sea, or in this case a beautifully clear lake with a depth of about 22 feet, I struck up a conversation with the two boys.

Water Girl out kayaking, photo from boat landing

One of the boys was from nearby Armstrong Creek, about 8 miles from the campground, and the other from Fence, which is north of Armstrong Creek. The one from Fence, was quick to point out that was originally from Armstrong Creek.  Perhaps in northeast Wisconsin one has more credibility being from Armstrong Creek, than from Fence. This may be because Armstrong Creek has more than one gas station.  Land Girl and I drove through Fence in June, and we almost blinked to miss it, but I think Fence may have a small convenience store and a town hall. Neither community is incorporated. I think they boys were cousins, or perhaps simply friends.  They camped at the same campsite.  The funny thing is I never saw and adult with them outside of their campsite, so in that sense they were clearly free-range children.  I can picture many suburban moms going crazy at the idea of two young boys hanging around a lake together, without any sort of supervision.  There are suburban helicopter parents who would not let their child go alone to a friends house a block over, much less hang out along a lake.  I thought it was rather nice to see some free-range kids.

Bull frog near the boat landing

One evening, we had finished dinner and we saw the two boys riding their bikes to the boat landing fishing gear in hand.  Running along side, with his legs pumping as hard and fast as possible, and stride as long as he could make it to keep up, was a boy, perhaps aged three, but certainly no more than four, and perhaps even younger than three.  The thing is he had the biggest grin on his face, like he was so happy to be out from under the parents and doing stuff with the big (older) boys. One could not write how happy this little boy looked. They referred to this boy as Jack.  I think Jack was happy as pie, or punch.  Still unaccompanied by a parent or older child, the boys made their way to the boat landing. Now a three year old, at a lake without a parent is perhaps, in many persons estimation too much free-range. I know it would be in mine. Certainly this would be the case to a suburban helicopter mom and dad. But, here it was three boys, who I surmise to all have had ages in the single digits, off at the boat landing and the nearest competent adult, unknown to them both, was a red headed retired nurse. This former school nurse seemed to agree with my interpretation of age.

Eagle in a tree near boat landing

It was not too much later, after their arrival at the boat landing, that we heard some talking and Jack's name being used.  We could not really make out was being said, but the impression was that not everything was alright, and it involved Jack.  As the second most competent adult nearby, I wondered if I should make a way to the boat landing to check on the situation. At that point I saw one of the boys riding his bike from the boat launch and I assumed going back to their campsite.  A few minutes later, he is biking back to the boat landing and yelling: "Jack's Mom says he as to go back."  He arrived at the boat landing, and their was further discussion, and after awhile we could see all three boys, with Jack lopping along, with much less enthusiasm than a half hour earlier, on their way back to their campsite. Jack did not look wet, like he fell in the water, so perhaps he had a potty accident. Or, it could be that one of the older boys egged him into trouble. Jack's sour puss, as my mom used to say, told a tale quite different than the joy-filled look he had as he headed to the boat landing.

The next day, as I went to get more water, I could see the older boys were gone, but Jack was still there, likely with his father.  the minivan was gone, but the pickup was still present. We later saw Jack and the man coming back from the boat landing. Poor Jack, his effort at being free-range did not last long, but that large smile he had on this short adventure and sense of joy as he made his way to the boat landing was a sight to behold.  It showed how much younger boys like to be liked by the older boys, like he belonged and was not longer just a baby. I hope that Jack takes and holds that level of joy as he headed to the boat landing as his main takeaway over the more dour and sour expression as he made his way back to the campsite, at the demand of his mother. 

Free-range children are increasingly difficult to find in today's world, and while having Jack at the lake with two other young boys may seem to push the boundary of free-range children, it was the choice made by the parents. Fortunately, they did not seem to need the service of a trained nurse.  Perhaps children are becoming more free-range than what I provide credit for.  Just this morning, I saw to young children, perhaps younger than the two boys in this story, heading home along our street. I am glad to see that the free-range children still roam the streets of McFarland, and the shores of lakes in northeast Wisconsin. As for Jack, his free-range adventure with the older boys was short, and perhaps someday he will be able to enjoy his own adventures at the boat landing.