This is the first entry in my series about growing up in western Nebraska.

Spend any amount of time with me, and you’ll know of my fondness for Lake McConaughy. An absurdity on the western Nebraska prairie with its white, sandy beaches (in areas), large water surface area, decent fishing, and secludedness from the big city make it a wonderful summer vacation spot. I hear the ice fishing can be good there too, but I prefer to do my fishing at times in the year where I can wear shorts and enjoy the white, sandy beaches and the water.
Lake McConaughy was created in 1936-1941 on the North Platte River through the building of Kingsley Dam north of Ogallala, Nebraska for use in irrigation and serves this purpose to this day. Created by flooding the river for 20 some miles, Lake C. W. McConaughy provides a lot of recreational opportunities that many Nebraskans would have to go without. In this process, the little town of Lemoyne was drowned beneath the waters and the residents moved to a bluff on the valley’s edge to continue the town, and if the water level of the lake gets low enough you can see the remains of Old Lemoyne. They’re a pain in the ass though if you’re trying to do any fishing there during those times…
You see, Ogallala was only an hour away from my hometown of Sidney so it was easy for us to go there during the summers as growing up my family didn’t have a lot of money. When I was younger, my grandparents also lived in Ogallala so I naturally got to go out there once in a while if I begged enough. Other times I would laze around in their sunroom listening to their ATRAC player as we didn’t really have internet at this time. Other times we would go to the lake via backroads, with us kids in the bed of the truck and our dads in the front drinking a beer on the road. Sure, it was highly dangerous, but that’s what to expect from a long line of rednecks.

That’s not to say it’s all roses out on the flooded river valley. I’ve had mishaps from my dad keeping the radio on and all the doors open on the car all day killing the battery so we need to be jumped to having a storm blow down my tent making me camp out at mom and dad’s for the weekend instead.
You see though, I remember the mishaps better than I do the perfect trips. They sucked, yes, but now they’re stories I laugh at. Laughter takes away the pain, but the pain made me stronger in a sense. Storms on the prairie may bring high winds, hail, and the occasional tornado, but on the prairie they also bring rain that nourishes the life that grows there. Storms in our life often work the same way: hardship for a time, but also nourish our souls so that we grow.
If you ever do get a chance, do go out and visit Lake McConaughy. You won’t regret it! …unless you go out there on a holiday weekend, then it might be a bit not fun.
0 Comments