In the old days-- the really old days, back before I was born-- most people who knew about the lake called it "the backwater," because that's pretty much what it was. The dam had been finished, and the water backed up; I imagine that it was very muddy, and full of sticks, logs and other debris. Oh, and mosquitoes and more mosquitoes.

So, an unflattering term like "backwater" was most likely accurate, and nothing to get upset about. It was what it was; sometimes the truth hurts, but… well, it's the truth. Besides, at the time Lake Martin was hardly a recreational paradise enjoyed by thousands, so there were few people who cared what it was called.

Sometime in the 1950's, things began to change, and quickly. The mud probably started to settle, and the water began to be that blue color that we've all come to love so much. It probably wasn't as blue, and definitely not as often; I can recall as recently as the 1980s watching muddy brown water move its way downstream every spring as the water rose, and waiting until June before it was as clear as it almost always is now.

It was around this time in the 1950s that the lake began to be seen as something recreational. The first few marinas sprang up on the shoreline, and Castaway Island became THE place to be on the lake. And for a lucky few, cabins became available for rent, most owned by what would become Russell Lands.

Throughout the next two decades, inevitable changes occurred. More marinas opened, and a few closed; a few restaurants appeared, and some were able to remain open year after year, though summer was definitely the busy season; for the most part, the other nine months could be called the "closed season." Year-round residents on the lake were few and far between.

In those days, a trip to the lake meant a chance to get away from it all. You packed the car with as much stuff as you could, and you hoped it would be enough; a trip to the Piggly-Wiggly was always possible, but that would mean leaving the cabin for an hour or two, and since every hour was precious, those were trips that no one wanted to make. Though for the longer multi-week lake trips, re-stocking at The Pig was a necessary evil.

But often, you could get whatever you needed at one of the marinas; the Country Store at Kowaliga was a good place to shop. When I was growing up, the store and the restaurant next door were managed by Dolph Worthy, who probably heard people from our cabin say "charge it!" about a million times. Same for Toppy Hodnett at the marina; between gas for the boat and fishing lures for no apparent reason, the marina and pro shop knew us well.

Slowly but surely, we could see the lake change, but the changes were easy to assimilate. A few developments for year-rounders were built: Willow Point and Windermere were the first two I remember, and Stillwaters arrived towards the end of the 1970s. More year-rounders brought a few changes, but not many; Lake Martin was still a great place to get away from it all. People still knew their neighbors, were courteous to the people they didn't know, and would go out of the way to help a stranger. And during the week, it was possible to spend the day boating and not see anyone; on weekends, the water was almost always calm enough for skiing… weather permitting, of course. On days when the wind made the water to rough to ski, the lake was dotted with sailboats.

In 1976, I saw something that I thought was phenomenal; in truth, it turned out to be prophetic. On July 4^th, we went to the Rocks and I saw more boats gathered there than I had ever seen in one place before. Counting the sailboat, there were… 24 boats at the Rocks.

Yep, two dozen boats; it was a crowd like none I had ever seen. But it was easily explainable; after all, it was a holiday, and there was a major fireworks show scheduled for that night, to celebrate the Bi-Centennial. So, a humongous crowd of two dozen, while overwhelming, wasn't surprising.

By the mid-80s, things were changing rapidly. Developments were springing up everywhere; when some of the old rental cabins were in the way they were moved, so that the occupants could continue to enjoy the lake. The lake was still a great place to get away from it all… but some of "all of it" was finding its way to the area. And some of those things were found in the developments themselves. For the first time in memory, there were more paved roads around the lake than dirt roads, and there were also sidewalks, street lights, and all sorts of other things that people used to come to the lake to escape.

But still, through it all, even amid the complaining that was getting louder every year, the lake was still better than any other vacation/recreation spot. Because, for all its faults, it wasn't a tourist trap, and wasn't chock full of those things that make tourist traps so… well, I'm not sure what the word is.

Or maybe I do. The marketing campaign for the newest phase of The Ridge has begun, and amid the fluff, the exaggerations, the misrepresentations and the meanderings was this description: "They also have plans for a town center located on highway 63, close to Windermere Road, that will have kitschy shops, a high end grocery store, and a gourmet restaurant."

Maybe the word I was looking for is "kitschy." Check out the definition:

"Kitsch is a term of German origin that has been used to categorize art that is considered an inferior copy of an existing style. The term is also used more loosely in referring to any art that is pretentious or in bad taste, and also commercially produced items that are considered trite or crass.

Kitsch can be used to refer to any type of art that is deficient for various reasons—whether it tries to appear sentimental, glamorous, theatrical, or creative, kitsch is said to be a gesture imitative of the superficial appearances of art. It is often said that kitsch relies on merely repeating convention and formula, lacking the sense of creativity and originality displayed in genuine art."

Inferior. Pretentious. Bad taste. Trite. Crass. Deficient. Lacking sense of creativity and originality.

All I can say is, if that's what we're in for, bring back the Backwater.