Growing up in the country meant a lot of things during the summer.
There were plenty of books for me to read, and my brother and I created countless games to compete in, even if they weren’t always the safest pastimes.
Playing with the neighbors, who also happened to be my cousin, required a quarter-mile walk down the dirt roads.
Rollerblading was out of the question, unless three strides from one side of the garage’s cement floor to the other was sufficient, but riding bicycles was doable as long as the sand on the roads was nicely packed and wasn’t so loose that it would feel like you were pedaling through molasses.
Exploring the pasture or hitting golf balls was fun, but shooting hoops on a grass court didn’t provide the same type of experience as a gym floor or cement, even if the ground was as hard as concrete in the dog days of summer.
On those hottest days, the pool would be a prime destination for my friends who lived in town, but that wasn’t in the cards for me.
However, we didn’t need the city pool to cool off. We had our own private oasis, usually tucked under the shady branches of a tree.
We had a stock tank.
If you swam around its glimmering silver edge with enough vigor, a nice whirlpool could be created. Then you could relax and let the water carry you around in lazy circles.
Of course, you had to be ready for your knees and tops of your feet to get scraped up as your toes dragged across the welded seam on the tank’s bottom.
It didn’t matter, though. It was fine. It was worth it.
Did I learn to swim by being in the tank? No. I still can’t swim well. Maybe I could save myself in a pinch. Maybe not.
Still, enjoying the water in the stock tank was the best summer activity.
Since I now live in town, my children get to go to the city pool with my wife, and they love it.
They’ve learned to swim. They proudly jump off the diving board. They make new friends. It’s great for them.
But as the temperatures have continued to climb into a typical broiling Kansas summer, I’ve been longing for a respite from the heat that doesn’t require me to put my doughy physique on display at the public pool.
Naturally, I thought of my summers in a stock tank, so I started looking online for what one would cost.
The prices I’ve seen appear reasonable considering how long it should last and what the price of an actual pool surely costs, but something did surprise me.
There is an entire industry built around turning stock tanks into pools.
Some of these businesses charge thousands of dollars to install stock tank pools in people’s yards. The services include plumbing the tanks with water pumps and filters, and they’ll landscape and build decks around them.
It blew my mind.
I thought stock tank pools were the domain of rural folk like me. People who used their fingers as the filter that scooped bugs and leaves out of the water, which was treated with a splash of bleach to kill the algae.
Clearly, I was wrong.
No matter how fancy they make them, though, they’ll never compare to what I grew up with.
That’s why I’m going to have to get one.
My children might still prefer the city pool, but at least I’ll have a place to cool off and relax in while I reminisce about simpler times.
Todd R. Vogts, Ph.D., is a native of Canton, a resident of McPherson County, and a media researcher and educator. He can be contacted with questions or comments via his website at www.toddvogts.com.
