"If I can get my son to love fishing half as much as I do, then I will have done my job as a father." - Unknown

One of the opportunities that I love the most is to travel to places that are important to Mike…Merritt Reservoir is the perfect example of one of those places. The memories for Mike of fishing with his dad and his dad’s best friends hang thick in the air at Merritt. Visiting over Memorial Day weekend, you’ll find the campgrounds full, the coolers stocked, and hopes high for catching a big fish.

On the drive there, we took the time to drive through Rosebud Reservation to gain a better perspective of what might be like in that part of South Dakota. Then a quick stop to snake falls allowed me to see where Mike had fished in the past with Will Scott and had a fantastic time fishing together quite a few years ago and to talk to the guests about their fishing luck that week.

As we pulled into one of Merritt’s campgrounds, someone yelled…”hey girl in the orange shirt!” Um, that would be me. I rolled down the window and quickly learned that he had purchased by accident two camp spot reservations for the night, and only needed one. With a quick exchange of $15, we backed into our beautiful lakeside spot for the next day. 

Mike unpacked quickly and sped off to find a fishing spot that was close to the camper. I started on dinner and pulled out a chair and a book and sat at the lakeside to enjoy. Not there but 5 minutes, Mike yelled from his spot to mine to watch out for the snake coming my way! It was a friendly snake, albeit, I moved my reading spot to something closer to the camper and less exposed to ‘wildlife.’ 

More excitement was to come with a storm that rolled in within a very short amount of time. While finishing up dinner, Mike casually said, “I don’t think you will have time to clean up the dishes after dinner.” As I searched the sky, I knew that we had very little time to jump in the camper and hunker down. Campers across the campground had also quickly moved throughout the campground to let others know to “get ready!” And for those that were in tents, they were quickly invited into their neighbors' campers. It was the most intense storm we had ever been in to date. The camper rocked back and forth, the wind howled, and the pop up tent for the shower folded and twisted like it was listening to it’s favorite song at a party. We peeked out the windows and got under the covers and waited the whole thing out. 

Morning was sunny and we were off to explore the Brown Lee highway, a golf-cart width of pavement that connects hwy 91 to hwy 81. It’s 26 miles of per ranchland bliss and takes you back in time to when families had to work just a littel bit harder to access anything that wasn’t closely located to their properties. Open skies, spinning windmills, and friendly cattle peeked around every corner. You could almost taste the homecooked food, the friendly kitchen table, and the slower-paced life that waited here for those that were strong enough to tough out the winters and enjoy the other 3 seasons.

I was thankful for the open road with Mike and a chance to relive important memories about his dad, fishing, and the time they spent together in this area. It’s lovely that it was exactly as he remembered it.