There is a lake home in Southern Minnesota where our family gathers for weekends and holidays. It used to be we would poke around the backwaters in a canoe or along the shoreline in a pontoon boat. We would lounge on the deck and wander about the bur oaks by the water throughout the day and into the lazy evening. That was about five years ago. Today that lake has been lost to the non-stop womp and whine of jet skis and with it, the desire to canoe. Sitting on the deck is like participating in a psychology experiment. We try to act like nothing has changed but the soothing sound of the wind in the trees and the trill of nearby birds has been drowned out. Going in the house does not help. There is no escape. The noise permeates the countryside for miles around. Attempting one day to find relief on the lee side of the property with the house as a barrier we looked up to see three ATVs charging up the driveway and watched in disbelief as they charged across our private property crushing a row of newly planted trees. South Silver Lake "just ain't the same any more".