My grandparents had a farm they bought as a vacation house northeast of Muskegon. The house had no electricity or running water, so it was an experience in basic living. I camped there years after my dad's family had lived in the house. Eventually, my dad and his sibs sold it for Christmas tree farming. It was not too far from the little village of Holton. Mostly dairy farmers there when I was camping with a high school buddy. A widow up the road invited us over for milk and pie, and to hear her whip'or'will in the evening. The crick that ran through the family property was bone chilling for a bath.