by Leon Archer
My usual Memorial Day vacation is usually spent relaxing around home with possibly a short stint of fishing thrown in as an afterthought, but 2012 was different.
Tim and Alicia have acquired a building lot that had belonged to her mom and dad for many years on Thirty Island Lake in Ontario, Canada. They have visited it numerous times and I had come to almost know it from their descriptions.
This year, Sweet Thing and I packed up our camping gear and joined Tim, Alicia, and our grandchildren, Nathaniel and Annaliese, for our first actual look at the site.
The journey took us across the 1000 Islands Bridges into Canada and West on 401. Most of the driving was on very comfortable highways and even the last few miles after we left Godfrey were easy to navigate over well-manicured, crushed stone. Not until we were within shooting distance of our destination did the road give way to sort of a two lane cattle path under a velvety green canopy of oak, maple, cedar and pine, with a white birch thrown in here and there for artistic contrast.
The lot was larger than I had envisioned and the location and view of the lake was impressive. It was easy to understand how they had become so enamored with their little piece of Canada.
Even before we had set up camp, Sweet Thing and I got a guided tour of the property, the lake front, and the staked off area where a future cabin is slated to sit. I knew right away that, Lord willing, this would not be my last trip to Thirty Island Lake.
We unpacked four kayaks and before long they were skimming over the water as Sweet Thing and I watched our family from shore. Sporadically, a lazily moving boat would come by, the occupants trolling for pike or walleye, but other than the muted mutter of their outboard and the occasional squeals of Annaliese and Nathaniel, very little interrupted the soothing silence.
We had fishing rods and a cache of night crawlers that were begging to be used, but the first evening they were put on hold as we settled around a late dinner and afterward got our living quarters straightened out and beds made for the night.
After all the packing at home and the three hour drive to the lake, everyone was ready for a good night’s rest – and we got it.
As we snuggled between the sheets, the loons bathed us with their calls on the lake, and a couple owls hooted on the far shore.