Boyhood Adventures Number One Letter Box
Indian Creek, Fox Point, Wisconsin

Difficulty: Clues-Easy, Terrain-Easy
Placed by: Birkie Bob 26 December, 2001
Birkiebob@ATT.net

When I was growing up in Fox Point, Indian Creek was a place of wonder
and adventure. It was composed of fields of tall grass and trees. The
best part was The Creek, a deep drainage ditch with mud bottom, tall
grass and weeds along the sides and a huge assortment of living beings
from all neighborhoods of the animal kingdom. It was a magical place
to spend summer days with friends especially my buddy, Kimmy. We could
take a sack lunch and lurk in our tree fort spying on our wild
kingdom. There were tadpoles, small fish and turtles in the creek.
Muskrats, squirrels, rabbits, crows, red wing black birds and
dragonflies were also abundant. Best of all there were frogs to catch.
It was wild enough and expansive enough to provide a generation of
children with daily adventures and discoveries about the world that
would become theirs and about the human spirit that was growing within
each of them.

Sometime after those golden years of boyhood Indian Creek got
"civilized."

The tall wild grasses have been replaced with perfectly groomed
suburban lawn grass. The fields have been infested with tennis courts,
a ball field, a now-abandoned skating rink and a pre-fab playground
set. The largest part of the wild fields have been gouged and covered
with ostentatious multi-thousand-square-foot "Yuppie containers."
People have the right to purchase property and to use it as they see
fit, but this former boy still feels a little bit sad to see the
change. Most of the wild trees have been sacrificed on the altar of
civilization and replaced with nursery-raised perfectly unremarkable
units. The creek now has a concrete bottom and supports no form of
life. No one's precious little darling is in danger of smelling creek
mud or having wild grass scratch their legs while running through on
daily missions fueled by infinite imagination. There are no smelly
animals to offend the delicate sensibilities of the current two legged
inhabitants if they should find the courage to venture out of their
containers.

It's difficult to believe that the perfectly formed and installed
playground equipment can furnish the stimulation required for the
personal growth of the current young ones of that area. In fact the
place has become so boring that one rarely sees anyone there.
This letterbox is the first in a series to commemorate growing up with
adventures, fears, wonder and laughter shared with childhood pals.
Indian Creek was a place from which each day a generation of children
came home for supper very much dirtier and a little bit richer than
they had left.

Fox Point is a village to the north of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. To reach
Indian Creek exit Interstate 43 at the Brown Deer Road exit. Proceed
east on Brown Deer Road and turn south at the first traffic light,
Port Washington Road. Travel approximately half a mile south to Dean
Road where there is another traffic light. Turn to the East on Dean
Road. You'll go down a slight hill and across a bridge over the
remains of Indian Creek. You'll see the ball field and the parking lot
on your right. Leave your car in the lot and proceed on foot along the
bank of the Creek with Dean Road behind you. You'll pass the tennis
courts and the perfectly safe and boring playground. Continue along
the bank to the footbridge. Stop for a minute and look across the
skating rink at the biggest mountain in our world and imagine being a
child headed down on a Flexible Flier for the first time, maybe scared
and maybe hearing Dad's encouraging words.

On your left side of the sledding hill you'll see a few surviving
trees. The largest one was home to our tree fort. When I was old
enough to go to "The Creek" alone, it had a sign proclaiming it to be
the rightful property of Jerry. I never met him, but he was part of
the mystery of our childhood.

Continue along the creek bank to the "woods." Maintain your course
along the bank or on the woods path until you arrive at the dead end
paved road. Starting at the fire hydrant make your way through a
child's wilderness on a bearing of 140 degrees. After 28 steps you'll
come to a tree standing over a small hollow covered by branches.
You've reached the goal of your quest.

Stamp in and pause to think of all the experiences involved in a
child's becoming an adult. Listen for the thousands of children's
voices still caught in the wind. Those voices are now ringing across a
world that is much bigger. Hopefully they still laugh and still
express true wonder at the beauty of life.