There's No Place Like It... part 4

I was talking to a farmer this morning after church.  We gather outside the building, in the sun, and share stories from the week, laugh a little bit, complain about politics and the lack of money that seems to be in the world.  As we talked, our discussion moved toward families.  The farmer, Don, said that family doesn't seem to mean as much any more and it is evident in the fact that families get together rarely and then, when they do, all that they can seem to accomplish is fighting. 

Sounds like a church, doesn't it?

We talked about family for a while; they asked me questions about my parents,  grandparents and my siblings.  And I recollected the memories of the last few weeks.  One of the things I most greatly enjoyed was riding with my parents - alone.

Because I was born in a set of triplets, traveling anywhere with your parents - alone - is unheard of.  I'm not sure I can remember a timeframe when I spent that much time talking with them about faith, life, love and all the deepest topics that most families ignore because it's easier that way.  For an hour and a half we drove from Thunder Bay to Lac De Mille Lacs and I was blessed to spend those hours with them (I also got unbroken time with them on the way back from the baptism, but that story will come later).

Lac De Mille Lacs (in English, Lake of a Thousand Lakes) is a large lake by any standards and if it were situated in Australia, it would probably be considered the largest freshwater lake in the country.  Roughly 25 miles across (40 kilometers) it is part of the Great Canadian Shield where the glaciers gouged out the lakes in the upper Midwest and Canada.  Australia, for the most part, has no natural freshwater lakes except in Tasmania.  Most freshwater is retained in dams, or reservoirs, for use in towns and cities. 

Lac De Mille Lacs is almost exclusively used for recreational purposes.  Over the years, there have been a few houses built on the shores, but for the most part all the shoreline around this large lake is completely unadulterated by human housing.  During the winter, though, the lake freezes over and the ice fisherman pull their ice houses onto the lake, the local councils plow the snow, puts up streets signs (on the ice) and even the mail is delivered to the fisherman.  Amazingly, the ice is so thick and hardened that even semi trailers can be driven on it.

There are two main resorts on LDML: Open Bay Lodge and Pine Point Resort.  For the first twenty odd years of the annual pilgrimage to LDML, the family stayed at Open Bay Lodge but now we rent cabins at Pine Point.  I'm not sure we even remember whey we made the change; perhaps it was the fact that the mosquitos were so devastatingly effective at Open Bay in the stillness of the bay, that we trekked to Pine Point which gets the winds from the west.

The gravel road that leads us to the Resort has gone through many transformations over the years.  It used to be like corrugated tractor tire tracks for fifteen miles, 57 turns, loose gravel - it was a death trap especially as we drove through the night without stopping.  Now, the corners have  been straightened, the gravel leveled; we can make the trip in half the time.  But after each corner, we got closer to the beauty of the lake.  The blueness of the sky reflected on the water and the pine trees waving in the reflections.

And then almost magically, it appears, like the drapes being pulled back from the stage which has prepared for a play.  That's what this year felt like - not necessarily a drama, but a staged opportunity where the characters are confined to a small stage.  Just as Shakespeare penned, "All the world's a stage..." and all people play a part of it.  Over the years, my family has developed the roles that they play well.  I'm sure all families have that.  Each family has the quiet one or the clownish one; the talker and the listener, the crazy one and the one who tries to calm everyone down (obviously my family does not have a crazy one).

Family vacations tend to be good drama anyway.  Any time you place a gaggle of people together in close proximity for any length of time, all sorts of discussions and wonderful opportunities present themselves.  Add the fact that we'd be spending large tracts of mornings and nights in the boat - good stuff. 

We entered Pine Point Resort about 10:00 on a Saturday morning.  Excited to get the boat in the water, my parents called in to the office to make sure that our cabin was already set up.  Funny thing, though, as I looked at the prices for things, it was incredible how much everything had grown in cost.  A fishing license used to be twenty-five dollars; I remembered how proud I felt the first time I put a twenty and a five on the counter to gather the small piece of paper that I would keep on my person for the entire week which allow me to have in my possession four walleye, four northern pike, and four smallmouth bass.  I don't know how many times during the week when my dad would try to get me to fish for walleye, which is a traditional type of fishing - throw the worm out on a jig or lure and wait...  I would say, "I didn't fly ten thousand miles to pull fish up off the bottom of the lake without a fight." 

So, I would fish northern pike.  Part 5, hopefully tomorrow, will entail my fishing exploits for the week.  Today, just background.