Cabin on the Lake of the Woods

Recently my friend and ex-boss Neil Mackie invited Sylvia and me to his cabin in Kenora for the Canada Day weekend. Sylvia and I hopped in the car as soon as she was finished work on Friday, and a day later, a couple of hours before darkness fell, we found ourselves driving through several kilometers of bush and winding, heaving gravel roads to discover Neil's cabin on Poplar Bay, part of the massive Lake of the Woods.

Raising the flag on Canada Day is one of Neil's annual rituals, and we arrived in time to see him mount the flag on a sturdy wooden pole.

Our late arrival left us with little time but to enjoy a late dinner prepared by Neil's friends Andre and Maureen and to get settled in our room. But right from the moment of our arrival we knew we were in for a special weekend, for Neil's isolated retreat was welcoming and homey in a way only a lakeside cabin can be.

We spent much of Canada Day on Neil's boat, touring the upper regions of the Lake of the Woods. Neil's cabin is barely visible through the trees; you can see the swimming dock at left.

The property includes a natural cove that provides safe harbour for Neil's fancy boat.

The weather was perfect: low 30s, sunny with just a few clouds and calm waters. Neil is an accomplished pilot and navigator and gave us a thorough tour of the northern part of the lake, bouncing us over the wakes of other watercraft from time to time for fun. We really zipped along, and Sylvia and I were both thrilled by the sights and the ride.

Kenora's proximity makes this part of the Lake of the Woods quite busy. On Canada Day, the lake drew dozens of motorboats, sailboats, water skiers, wake boarders, float planes, jet skis and canoes.

 The MS Kenora provides lake tours to residents and tourists. 

Neil insisted on having me pose in front of Huskie the Muskie.

I didn't catch the name of this fearsome fellow, but whoever painted the boulder did an impressive job.

I'm not a sufficiently expert photographer to convey speed, but perhaps Sylvia's hair and expression will give you a hint of the way we zipped along the waves.

Whoosh!

We docked at Safeway for supplies. While I was picking out potatoes for dinner, Neil and Andre rescued a large Labrador that had fallen into the water. Sylvia was duly impressed.

It's been many years since I rode in the bow of a speeding boat, but I remember the thrill of a boat ride quite warmly. And this time there were even comfy padded seats!

After the midday tour, we took a break to prepare dinner.

My first embarkation onto the boat provided me with some just desserts; it was a complete pratfall. I stumbled into the bow like the proverbial drunken sailor, managing to bark my shin and knee on the camera and Sylvia's cane while also knocking Sylvia in the head. Fortunately I quickly remembered my sea legs and hopped on and off the boat multiple times afterward without incident.

Andre and Maureen paddled around in the canoe for a while.

Neil and I, on the other hand, played my very first game of The Awful Green Things from Outer Space. I have the ad for this in a hundred old comic books, but I'd never laid eyes on the actual game until visiting Neil's cabin. Neil's awful green things quickly overwhelmed my multispecies crew.

After dinner, we embarked again to watch the Canada Day fireworks right up close from the boat. It was a spectacular show, made more so by the dozens of watercraft crowding the bay. For extra safety, we tethered our boat to that of Neil's friend and neighbour.

The fireworks were incredible enough, but the ride back to Neil's cabin was a transcendental pleasure. With the full moon guiding a convoy of speedboats returning home, we bounced over the surface of the lake with the wind in our faces, Neil guiding us through the darkness, following in the wake of his neighbour's boat. It was both exhilarating and peaceful at once, and Sylvia and I merely glanced at each other across the bow from time to time, enjoying a special moment that we knew we'd both treasure forever.

Sylvia and I are both very grateful to Neil for opening his second home to us and showing us the great natural beauty of the Lake of the Woods. It was a short but spectacular journey to one of the world's great treasures.

Interlude in Virden

Sylvia and I have just returned from a whirlwind weekend trip to Kenora, Ontario, where we celebrated Canada Day on the Lake of the Woods with our friend Neil Mackie. On the way to Kenora, we stopped just north of Virden so that I could show Sylvia the old River Valley School (above), and the Etsell farm, which belonged to my maternal grandparents.

River Valley School isn't used as a schoolhouse anymore, but it provides ample opportunities for outdoor recreation. Unfortunately the school was locked when we arrived, but you can view some photos here.

A few minutes after leaving the school, we arrived at the farm. I was shocked to discover that nearly all of the buildings had been razed. I knew that the house had been burned down by arsonists back in 2010, but I wasn't expecting the remaining sheds to be gone as well.

I suppose the current owners bulldozed everything but the one metal granary to prevent further arson. Still, it felt strange to have nothing to show Sylvia but an empty plot of land.

A small pile of rubble is all that remains. It won't take long for nature to erase even these battered remnants.

The old water pump is still there, but it's being engulfed by grass. I'm more grateful than ever that Sean and I visited the farm back in 2009, when all the buildings I remembered from my childhood were still intact.

Happily, another Etsell legacy remains; members of the community continue to steadily improve Salt Lake. It's a beautiful little spot.

Tomorrow: Cabin on the Lake of the Woods.

Gladstone Manitoba's Best Fries

Woods on the Lake of the Woods

Regina

Regina

There is no poetry here
Despite all the noble and foolish history
The bleak snowdrifts of January
Or autumn's fragile bounty

There is no poetry here
For nothing rhymes with "Regina"
Save for ribald words fit only

For limericks.

Fifth

Fifth

I don't remember the day I came in Fifth.

I was surprised when I found the faded old ribbon
Hidden at the bottom of a wooden Alberta Springs whiskey box
(I had three such boxes begged from my father -
They were perfect for storing bubblegum cards)

The ribbon proved that at least once I wasn't last
Wasn't first
But wasn't last.

How had he done it, the boy I was?
Had he woken with new reserves of stamina and speed?
Had a girl he liked smiled encouragement from the bleachers?
Was he simply sick of finishing last?

He must have been shocked
To find himself nipping at the heels of the medalists
Perhaps he even thought - just for an instant - that he could pull ahead
And hear the cries of disbelief from his friends and tormentors

That moment was too much to ask from an indifferent universe
But Fifth was good enough to keep that gold ribbon
To hoard it for his future self
A talisman to ensure remembrance
Of his brief brilliant moment. 

But I don't remember the day I came in Fifth
And I'm sorry.

Scotty's Final Fate

Back in the 90s we had a Sony VHS camcorder with a stop motion feature. My friends and I put it to good (?) use on a number of occasions. In this short, silent vignette Mr. Scott is devoured by a giant space monster. In a chilling coda, Spock and McCoy meet and shake hands. Did they collude to eradicate their old friend?

There was no sequel to explain this macabre sequence of events.

Observing the Observers

Here's another enigmatic image from our 1983 journey to Glacier National Park in Montana. For reasons lost to time, I used my little Kodak 110 camera to shoot a photo of some tourists looking skyward. What had they spotted? A mountain goat? A cougar? A mountainside forest fire? A UFO?

I'll never know, for my 14 year old self thought the observers were more interesting than the observed. Clearly my shutterbug instincts needed honing.

The Earlvengers

Many years ago - when Ronald Reagan was still President of the United States - I found myself in the possession of a blank Avengers ID card. I told myself back then that one day I'd paste in my picture and signature. Twenty-four years later - at least! - the task is complete. For authenticity I used a Reagan-era photo of myself, though about as late in his presidency as possible.

This was a good exercise in document restoration and using layers in Photoshop. The original card was pretty beat up, with badly faded text and colours. I've cleaned it up a little, but not completely, in order to retain a little of the card's weathered look.

All the World's a Stage...Line

Once or twice every five years or so, I'm forced to wear a suit. In 1998, Allan Sampson and I travelled to Cranbrook, British Columbia, to celebrate the nuptials of our old friends Jeff and Susan. While waiting for the ceremony to begin, Allan and I amused ourselves by posing on and around the landmarks of nearby Fort Steele.

I'm really quite happy with this photo. I like the colour and composition and Allan looks quite dapper.

I'm pretty happy with this one, too. The wedding party looks great, though I wonder why Steven Neumann (at right) looks so concerned.

I don't remember the significance of the His and Hers Frisbee, unless they were an oblique reference to the time we were all playing Frisbee in the park and Susan accidentally hit Jeff in the teeth with one. I still remember Jeff's "Earrrgghh!" with exquisite clarity.

Primed for Battle

Tonight Sean and I visited Steve to paint our squadrons for the new StarFleet: A Call to Arms tabletop wargame. It's been a very long time since I've assembled or painted models of any kind, but with Steve's guidance my small Federation flotilla is shaping up nicely. Tonight we filed off the rough edges of the models, assembled them and primed them - about three hours' work. I was surprised by the level of detail that simply priming the pewter models reveals; inking and painting them should produce an even better result.

Good Shooting

Back in the mid to late 70s, DC Comics launched a number of short-lived pulp and fantasy titles, among them Justice Inc., pictured above. Named for the 1939 story that featured the first appearance of Richard Benson, The Avenger, Justice Inc. came and went in just four issues. The first issue is astonishingly creepy, though; Benson, his wife and child make the mistake of barging onto a flight bound for Montreal, and while Benson is in the washroom, his family vanishes. Everyone on board the plane claims Benson's loved ones never boarded at all, and the shock of his loss transform's Benson's skin ghost-white and leaves his face malleable, plasticized. It doesn't make a lot of scientific sense, but it's pretty creepy, even more so in DC's 1989 adaptation of the same story.

In any event, it's a pretty good comic, but the panels above strain suspension of disbelief pretty hard. You'd have to be an incredible shot to deliberately graze the skull of a moving target in such a way as to merely knock him unconscious!