Halfway snack in Cecil always family tradition

It is about 50 miles and about an hour’s drive from Neenah to Cecil. Then another 40 miles or so to our summer home in Townsend. So it really wasn’t the exact halfway point, except to our psychological framework.

Highway 47 shapeshifts into Highway 117 in Bonduel and then, for us, 117 hits Shawano Lake at the T on Highway 22. We always thought we were in Shawano, because of the lake. Cecil humbly exists, and we love the area despite our initial misconception of the naming. We couldn’t recall if there was even a green city limits sign coming north on 117 into the lake view with the now green BP gas station as the first landmark, but there is. On a recent trip over the old path, we noticed the sign and the “529” for the current population estimate.

The meeting of 117 and 22 was the place we made our two children wait until my wife administered our famous “Halfway Snack.” This traditional semi-healthy treat was not candy but one of Wisconsin’s own, a mozzarella cheese stick. With pride, my wife would administer one strip each to the children. She’d peel the wrapper halfway down and hand it back to them.

At the time, we were driving in my Silver 1986-1/2 Nissan 4x4 extended cab, with two rear truck seats facing each other. When they were tots, their child safety seats elevated them a bit, and they could view passing glimpses of the outside journey through their side panel windows or even less through a fraction of our front seat windows. They would have to bend forward to see anything we were talking about through the front windshield, but they really wouldn’t see anything unless it was a fleeting eagle or a seagull or a tree branch.

We could tell just after leaving Bonduel that the first wave of boredom and sense of confinement would hit them in their little compartment. Our daughter would begin with some phrase like, “He’s looking at me like crazy.” We would have to remind him not to look at his sister like that, and that they were only a few minutes away from their halfway snack.

On special occasions and if they were especially good, we would stop at the Dairy Cove to get them a dipped frozen custard, a flavored ice cream in a waffle cone or small sundae of their choice. The Dairy Cove is located just outside Cecil’s main drag, after turning left, from the west, onto Country Road R. It is about a mile from our official, unofficial halfway mark, and an easy wait for them after hearing the ice cream promise.

From there, the treat, whether cheesy or sweet, seemed to settle them for most of the rest of the trip.

On rarer occasions, we might stop just short of Cecil and pull into Yoder’s Farm, where at one time, they housed a bakery next to their home. We would stop for one of their apple, blueberry, or triple-berry pies. Best we knew of — anywhere. Then to the roll of my wife’s eyes, I would slide in an extra Saran-Wrapped paper plate holding a dozen freshly-made chocolate chip cookies onto the counter. Depending when we arrived on Friday afternoon, the breads might still have steam pressing the surface of their packaging, and then we had to pick up a loaf or two of the sourdoughs.

The kids preferred cookies with M&Ms in them and would receive one. Once up north, it would be time to seek and remove any cookie crumbs from their seats and the floor mats. It was amazing to see how many there would be from just one cookie each.

One of the most wonderful spectacles to see when driving over the rise on 117 was anticipating the view of the big white lake in middle December. Would it be brown and drabby, or would it be ice- and snow-covered?

At that time of the year, heading north out of Black Creek, we would see a real “White Lake” that might have open water still. White Lake has a public access near a home right off Highway 47. It is a reedy lake, and though its 160 acres once seemed isolated, large homes have sprung up along the west bluff and on some rolling hills to the north.

What amazed us was that Shawano Lake often had one tent on the south bay. Some individual would be the first to walk out onto the tundra. Perhaps the eastern shoreline would display a slice of open water, but this individual would be drilling holes, setting up tip ups and pan fishing. We wondered if the few perch were worth the risk, but it portended that we might be able to fish our own lake, safely.

However, sometimes after passing an ice fisherman or two on Shawano, we would drive by a much smaller Anderson Lake on Highway 32 near Chute Pond, and whitecaps might be evident in the lake’s middle. It was truly baffling. The imaginary taste of our own panfish meal would melt away.

Cecil was not a town we just drove through. Beyond being our family’s halfway mark, we stopped there. Once or twice, we dined at Washington Inn, bought children ice cream or a Yoder delicacy, and stocked up at the farmer’s market in front of the Dairy Cove and it became a four-season fixture in all of our minds. The halfway point in Cecil and sights along the southern shore of Shawano Lake hold many memories for our family.

Oh, and that famous cheese stick we thought was so gratifying to the children — in one discussion during a Christmas gathering a few years back, both children revealed that those were “soggy and wilty,” and they would roll their eyes together before their mother turned toward them with a big smile to proudly announce their snacks.

Best laid parenting plans.

Townsend writer Frank Burns has been writing for the Nicolet Express recently, and he has published other stories in Creative Wisconsin and The Chain (Florida Keys) in recent years. Readers can contact him at frankwrite@yahoo.com.