I shouldered my way through the early morning crowd at Hi-Banks Resort on Fish Lake. A patron glanced my way, unimpressed, through a forest of celery sticks jutting from his Bloody Mary breakfast. I plopped $5 on the bar to access the lake out front. The bartender scooped up my cash and thanked me. No receipt, no dashboard tag, just an honor system and an agreement. They plow the road and I pay. I like that.

I shuffled my way back to the Suburban. The whole vehicle shook from our dog, Mogli, running from seat to seat, anxious to exit the vehicle and explore his surroundings. Joseph and Davi...