A well-heeled farmer, who owned an ice-house, would bring a large wooden freezer that was loaded with homemade ice cream. Boy, oh boy! Did that frozen stuff taste good.
After picnic-lunch, the men would converse about how the crops looked, while we kids went on a grasshopper catching spree. Finally the water sports would begin. The males would roll up their pant legs, and the females would hold up their dresses to wade into the creek. A big deal! In those days it would happen about once a year.
Before heading home, a line-up took place in front of some rustling Quaking Asp trees for pictures. For me, the trip back home was filled with dreams that maybe my dad would build an ice-house. Then I could help him put up ice the next winter so we could have ice cream every day when it got hot.
"Early Day Outings" Kik-Backs p.66
Crab Creek is sometimes referred to as the
"longest ephemeral stream in North America".