Fellow writer and blogging friend Vickie Smith was kind enough to review my upcoming short story collection for the Wisconsin Writers Association. You can find the review here, plus a link to preorder the book at a discount. (It’s coming out on Feb. 11.) You can find out more about Vickie at her blog, “Writing Near the Lake.”
Like me, Vickie lives near Lake Superior. We support each other as writers, and I hope to return the reviewing favor when her first book is published!
Here’s an excerpt from her review: Zhuikov’s stories explore a wide range of human emotions – grief, duplicity, curiosity, loneliness, love, obsession, and fear – against a backdrop of both rural and urban worlds filled with the inexplicable, the mystical, and the paranormal. She skillfully combines these human emotions with well-crafted imaginative worlds as she delves into the everyday desires and struggles people face, making her tales intriguing reads to be enjoyed by everyone.
A young man is mystified by why he can’t see an eclipse. A scammer falls for a woman he’s targeting. A nondescript gray house hides a secret from a curious woman walking her dog. A girl discovers a mummified Viking bog boy while on a birding tour. A college student gets trapped in a biosphere after hours. Hemingway’s stolen stories are found in New Jersey. Singing in the shower takes on a whole new meaning. And a librarian develops her own theories about the influence of trees. United by the power of appearances to deceive and captivate, these tales glisten with the magic and menace of everyday lives.
My next book is a collection of short stories and a novella. “The Path of Totality” is a meditation on the power of appearances to deceive and captivate. It’s being published by Cornerstone Press at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point and is now available for preorder at a 20% discount. The books will be distributed in February.
It’s already received some endorsements:
These stories concern everyday people discovering who they now are as opposed to who they once were. A grieving couple come to accept the death of their child. A woman pays too large a price for caring about a neighbor’s son. And in “Bog Boy: A Northern Minnesota Romance”—a gem of a story, a perfect story—a teen falls in love with someone suspended in time. Not all of Zhuikov’s characters find peace and harmony, for the damned soul and the broken heart and the heart’s longing are nothing to fool with. But the few who find love, for instance, Sheila and Peter in the long final story, enter paradise.
—Anthony Bukoski, author of The Blondes of Wisconsin
Richard Powers meets Gabriel Garcia Márquez in a collection that nonetheless could have been produced only by a singular sensibility— one firmly planted in a fully recognizable, verifiable natural world that’s also brimming over with mystery, wonder, and the fantastic. I love Marie Zhuikov’s brain. She’s both a scientist and a dreamer. These stories, rich in emotional metaphors that play out in magical ways, remind us to tread carefully and to always pay attention.
—Cheri Johnson, author of The Girl in Duluth (under the pen name of Sigurd Brown)
In settings strange yet familiar we meet characters who are sincere but possibly duplicitous in this new story collection spun by science writer Marie Zhuikov. Each of the seven, spine-tingling scenarios will delight and surprise, bringing you to unexpected frontiers—in a biodome, a graveyard, the husk of a living tree—all without ever straying far from the yearnings of the human heart. Reader, I defy you not to be curious.
—Carol Dunbar, author of The Net Beneath Us
Marie Zhuikov’s The Path of Totality is a gem of a collection. These speculative stories explore a wide range of unusual situations with humor and insight, with empathy and heart. Readers will get carried away—just like these memorable characters get carried away—into imaginative worlds full of mystery and wonder. She delves into our longing for connections, how we respond in the face of strangeness and mystery beneath the ordinary.
—Jim Daniels, author of The Perp Walk
Please consider preordering while this discount is in place. You’ll be happily surprised come February. And thank you for your support!
Blackness Castle. In the “Outlander” series, it’s Fort William.
Russ and I have long been fans of the “Outlander” television series and books. Actually, I was a fan first, then I sucked Russ into it. He’s been a willing and devoted victim. We were tickled to discover during our Broomhall House tour the previous day that even distant cousin Charles Bruce is a fan!
If you’re not familiar, “Outlander” follows the story of Claire Randall, an Englishwoman who’s enjoying a second honeymoon in Scotland with her husband once World War 2 ends, when she’s sucked back in time 200 years after touching a mysterious standing stone. While in the past, she meets Jamie Fraser, a burly and charming Scot, who ends up marrying her to save her from the clutches of an evil pre-ancestor of her English husband.
The series hops back and forth in time and geography, but some fans’ most-beloved sites can be found in Scotland, many not far from Edinburgh. It only made sense for us to go on an Outlander tour while we were there, especially after I found a company that offered group tours that departed only a few blocks from our hotel.
That’s where we met Henry, who is a co-owner of Tartan Viking Tours. He informed us that we were in luck; nobody else had signed up for the tour, so we were getting a private tour for the cost of a group one. That allowed us more leeway in what we could see, which worked out great!
Dean Village and the Water of Leith
On our way out of town, we stopped at two non-Outlander locations that were just too picturesque to pass by. The first was Dean Village which is split by a river named Water of Leith. It used to sport many water mills for grinding grains into flour. Next were some Pictish standing stones that happened to be along the highway on the way to the village of Culross, which stands in for Crainsmuir in Outlander. I was excited to see them because I hadn’t had the chance to see anything Pictish or standing on either of my other trips to Scotland.
Standing stones in a field.
Crainsmuir/Culross is where the witch Gellis Duncan lived and is where she and Claire were tried for witchcraft. The village is one of Scotland’s most complete examples of a 17th and 18th-century town. Steep cobblestone streets are lined with white stone houses that sport red-tiled roofs. The town center is occupied by a small golden-yellow palace with a beautifully reconstructed period garden. Henry took us along the streets and up to an overlook flanked by a garden full of pink roses. We could also see an herb garden behind the palace that was Gellis’s garden in the series.
A rose garden in Culross.
A picturesque doorway in Culross
Culross Palace with Gellis’s herb garden behind it.
Then we were off to Doune Castle. In Outlander, it’s Castle Leoch, home to Clan MacKenzie. In “Monty Python and the Holy Grail,” it’s the castle where there’s a discussion about African Swallows and where a prince croons about how he doesn’t want to be king. It’s also featured in “Game of Thrones.” Seeing the familiar courtyard, Mrs. Fitzgibbon’s kitchen, and other movie locations was so fun! We took an audio tour, which was narrated by Sam Heughan, the actor who plays Outlander’s Jamie Fraser.
Doune Castle
A window in Doune Castle.
Our next stop was Linlithgow Palace, which is known as the birthplace of Mary Queen of Scots. In Outlander, it’s also the stand in for Wentworth Prison where Jamie was sentenced to hang and was tortured and assaulted by Captain “Black Jack” Randall. Linlithgow means “the loch in the damp hollow,” named because the palace lies on the shore of a small lake. We weren’t really feeling a need to tour the castle, so spent most of our time walking the grounds and visiting the Mary Queen of Scots statue, which sports the mysterious quote: “My heart is my own.” A biography about her has the same title, but I suspect that the statue came first. Apparently, this quote was from one of her letters to her cousin Queen Elizabeth where Mary discusses potential husbands for herself. I guess she didn’t like any of her suitors! Mary’s such a fascinating historical figure. I had the chance to visit a museum about her in Jedburgh during a previous visit.
Mary Queen of Scots was born in this turret room at Linlithgow Palace.
Mary Queen of Scots statue at Linlithgow Palace
We ate a scrumptious lunch at The Four Marys pub, named for Queen Mary’s ladies in waiting, who all obviously must have been named Mary. One thing to note in Scotland and Ireland is that at smaller restaurants and pubs like this one, which are outside of large towns, you have to pay at the bar till. They don’t bring a bill to your table like in the U.S. And if you wait for them to do so, you’ll be waiting for a long time!
Blackness Castle and the courtyard where Jamie was flogged.
Next to last was Blackness Castle, a.k.a. Fort William. This imposing stone structure is built on the Firth of Forth and was meant to resemble a ship. Like in Outlander, the castle served as a prison in real life, housing high-ranking prisoners and their household staff. This was where Jamie was flogged and held prisoner in Season One. The place is depressing, dank, and rocky. It was so interesting how the original landscape was incorporated into it. We spent a lot of time climbing around and walking out on the pier over the Firth.
Blackness Castle as viewed from the pier. Note its ship-like shape.
Our last stop was Midhope Castle, a.k.a. Lallybroch, home to Jamie Fraser and his kin. Just the outside of the castle was used for filming because the inside is not habitable. Walking up the road and under the familiar archway made me feel like I was in an episode of Outlander! We snooped around the castle and meandered into the back yard where several ruined sheds and stables molder. In Outlander there are scenes of the back of Lallybroch, but they are so far away, they conceal the ruins.
Our tour guide, Henry at Midhope Castle. Or is that Jamie Fraser with glasses?!
The stairway into Midhope Castle.
I’d recommend an Outlander tour for anyone who is a fan. There are cheaper versions with other companies out there, but you might not get a kilted guide or a “wee dram” along the way. We enjoyed meeting Henry and seeing sights from the books/movies. Once we returned home, I began watching the series all over again to see if I could spot the places we visited. Also, the next season is set to begin this November, so it’s been a good refresher.
One of the sheds behind Midhope Castle.
I didn’t mention this, but between Culross and Doune Castle, Henry obliged us with a non-Outlander side trip to Clackmannan Tower, which is connected to my ancestors. That deserves its own entry, so that’s up next!
Leif Enger and musician at Enger’s launch for “I Cheerfully Refuse,” a novel set on Lake Superior.
Duluth author Leif Enger’s latest novel, “I Cheerfully Refuse,” is set in the near future in small towns along Lake Superior and on the wide water itself. The apocalypse that’s occurred isn’t some cataclysmic event, rather the novel investigates what could happen if current conditions exaggerate. Citizens are increasingly desperate and illiterate, a billionaire ruling class referred to as “astronauts” (think Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos) employ indentured servants and conduct “compliance” experiments on people in medical ships that roam the seas. Lake Superior is subject to rogue storms and increasing temperatures. The warming waters finally give up the bodies that have lain preserved in icy slumber in its depths. School children have so many behavior problems from toxic chemicals they’d been exposed to in utero, they’re rated on a Feral Comportment Continuum.
Rainy, the narrator, is a bereaved bear of a man and a musician from the small mythical town of Icebridge on Minnesota’s North Shore. (If you read Enger’s previous novel, “Virgil Wander,” Icebridge is right next to Greenstone, the mythical town where that book is set.)
Image courtesy of Amazon
Through a series of unfortunate events, Rainy ends up fleeing Icebridge on a sailboat named “Flower.” Most of the novel follows his Gulliver-like travels to the Slate Islands and Michigan’s Upper Peninsula where he encounters fog, hunger, storms, and lawless townspeople. But there’s also poetic beauty in gulls that settle on his sailboat when he plays his bass, magisterial island rocks, and unexpected kindnesses from strangers. I don’t want to give away too much more of the plot.
Things I loved: The novel’s focus on the importance of music, books and literacy. The sailboat setting, and Enger obviously knows his nautical terms, having had a boat himself in Bayfield, Wisconsin. I also appreciated the hopefulness amidst the horror.
Things I didn’t like so much: The book’s ending. Although it’s beautiful and literary, I expected more after the epic events that led up to it. Once Rainy reaches his ultimate destination, readers are only given a few vague lines about Rainy feeling a slight warm weight against his back, “a pressure like a palm between my shoulder blades.” A few dream-like images round it out and that’s it. But I still think I’ll give it a 5 on Goodreads because the writing is so gorgeous, and we Duluthians need to support each other. The world out there is already cruel enough.
I attended Enger’s Duluth launch last April and noted a contrast to his “Virgil Wander” launch six years earlier. That event was held at a local independent bookstore shortly after Enger had moved here. About 45 people attended and ate brownies and bars made by Enger’s wife, Robin.
His latest launch was held at a local brewery where people’s food order buzzers interrupted Enger’s presentation as their pizzas arrived. I’d say the audience tripled, which is a testament to the connections Enger has developed in the community during his time here. True to the musical emphasis in “I Cheerfully Refuse,” a guitarist accompanied Enger, playing through breaks in his reading.
Enger said he wasn’t sure if he could call himself an actual Duluthian yet or not. As he lies in bed at night, he still thrills at the sound of the lift bridge and ore boats in the canal communicating with each other with their horns. He thinks if he were a real Duluthian, that would all be passé.
I would answer: the trick is holding onto that wonder even after hearing the horns a thousand times. Then Enger will be a real Duluthian.
“The Lift” host Baihly Warfield interviews me about my blog-based book.
I was interviewed on local TV about my blog memoir, “Meander North,” the other day. It was a live interview, so was rather nerve-wracking. I’m not complaining, though! I appreciate every bit of free publicity and the interview seemed to go well. I had another live interview for work a few weeks beforehand, so I had some practice. You can watch the hoopla here.
For more information about my book, please visit my website.
“The world today is sick to its thin blood for lack of elemental things, for fire before the hands, for water welling from the earth, for air, for the dear earth itself underfoot. In my world of rock and water these elemental presences lived and had their being, and under their arch there moved an incomparable pageant of nature and the year.”
― Slightly modified quote from Henry Beston,The Outermost House
Bogs get a bad rap. People tend to think they’re just a waste of good land. However, they have a unique beauty, especially when frosted with winter.
This is my favorite bog that I often visit in northern Minnesota. I’ve written about it before. (See Bog Wonder). I recently finished reading “The Good Berry Cookbook” by Tashia Hart. It’s much more than recipes about wild rice. She also describes her relationship to plants and the importance of Manoomin (wild rice) to her Native culture.
One funny story she shared was about spending an hour admiring plants (orchids, Labrador tea, pitcher plants, etc.) in a bog. A car pulled up on the dirt road near the bog and parked. A woman emerged and then, “squinted at me, and began to shout, ‘What are you doing out there!’ It came across as less a question about what I was doing and more a question about my character. ‘Looking at flowers!’ I replied, still crouched low. She stood there for a bit, hands on hips, obviously disturbed, then shook her head and flailed her arms as she stomped back to her vehicle and drove away.”
Tashia mentions that one must be careful not to sink into bogs. Perhaps the woman was concerned for her safety. But Tashia felt safe there. Moose walk on the floating plant masses and seem to do fine. But to be safe, she recommends bringing a friend along.
She offers a recipe for Swamp Tea, made with the Labrador tea plant. I think those reddish masses in my photo are dried up Labrador tea plants. The tea is supposed to lift anxieties and aid creativity.
Sounds good to me. Next time I’m at “my” bog, think I’ll put on my rubber boots or snowshoes, grab Russ, and meander out there to gather some tea leaves. We’ll see if anyone stops and yells at us.
Angelique and Charlie Mott. Image courtesy of “Abandoned: Angelique’s Isle”
We recently watched the movie “Abandoned: Angelique’s Isle,” which is a based on a true story set on Isle Royale in Lake Superior. I’d heard of the movie before but never had an easy way to view it until it turned up for free in my Redbox feed. Can’t get much easier than that!
Longtime readers are probably well-aware of my love for this wilderness island. I had a chance to revisit this national park this summer and fulfill longtime dreams. As wonderful as the Isle Royale is in the summer, I can’t imagine spending a winter out there.
A sketch of the actual Angelique, courtesy of Michigan Technological University archives.
But that’s just what happened to a French voyageur and his Metis wife during 1845. Charlie Mott met 17-year-old Angelique and they lived at LaPointe on Madeline Island – although the movie makes it look like they were in Sault Ste Marie. Looking for work, Charlie is persuaded by some bigwigs from Detroit to visit Isle Royale on a mission to find copper.
Despite Angelique’s grandmother’s concerns, Angelique accompanies him and ends up being the one to discover copper – a huge mass. In the movie, the copper boulder is up on the shoreline but in reality, it was in the water. It’s summer and the Detroit men convince Charlie and Angelique to stay on the island for a few weeks so that the men have time to stake a claim. They said they’d send a supply boat and then they’d return for the copper and take them off the island before winter.
The couple agree and find shelter in an old fishing cabin on the island. They fix it up along with a birchbark canoe that’s there with it.
As you can guess from the movie title, the supply boat never comes, and the men don’t return before winter. What follows is a tale of perseverance, emotional strength, ingenuity and heartbreak. The themes revolve around being true to one’s roots and also (tongue in cheek), if your grandmother is having bad dreams about your impending trip, maybe you shouldn’t take it! I won’t give away any more of the plot in case you want to watch it.
An illustration from “Wolf’s Eye” Vol. 5, No. 4a. “Charlie and Angelique Mott: A tragic but true story of Isle Royale.” It depicts the living quarters of Charlie and Angelique Mott while they were staying on Mott island.
Isle Royale is not the easiest location to film a movie, so the film was shot in Terrace Bay (near Rossport) and Fort William in Ontario, Canada. The sand beaches are a dead giveaway – I don’t know of any sand beaches on Isle Royale. It’s all rock and cobble. I also don’t know of any rivers with huge rapids on the island like are in the lead photo for this post, but the stunted trees and rocky shoreline found in Canada are quite similar.
In all my time on Isle Royale, I never knew that Mott Island was named in their honor. It’s a small island where the National Park’s island headquarters are located off the main island. I was excited to see Native actress Tantoo Cardinal in the movie. She plays Angelique’s grandmother. I was in a movie with Tantoo and actually got to touch her arm in a scene! So, it was like seeing an old acting buddy, ha ha.
According to Mikel B. Classen’s blog, Angelique’s story was first written down as a footnote in the book, “The Honorable Peter White: A Biographical Sketch of the Lake Superior Iron Country.” That, combined with original research, inspired the book, “Angelique Abandoned” by James R. Stevens. His book was turned into a screenplay by Michelle Desrosier, an Indigenous woman from Canada.
Although some of the storytelling could have been smoother, I found the movie a meaningful tale of the power of women, the power of love, and belief in the forces of the universe.
Well, it wasn’t the series itself that broke the internet in my neighborhood, rather it was a virtual presentation about it by Netflix that seemed to break it.
About a month ago, I was invited to an exclusive virtual screening of a new television series that’s being made out of the book, “All the Light We Cannot See,” by Anthony Doerr. I was invited because I rated the book on Goodreads.
However, right when the screening was supposed to begin, the internet went down at my house. Luckily, I was able to access the event via my cell phone. I sure was glad I signed up for that new unlimited data plan!
The event began with an introduction of one of the series’ main characters (Aria/Marie). Then the first installment of the four-part series was shown. It was filmed in Budapest and is set to air November 2 on Netflix. This was followed by an enthusiastic conversation between Doerr and the series director, Shawn Levy. I recorded it so I could make this blog post, complete with quotes and everything.
If you’ve been living under a literary rock, you might not know that “All the Light We Cannot See” won the Pulitzer Prize for fiction in 2015. I attribute this to Marie being one of the main characters’ names. Ha ha.
Marie-Laure is a blind girl who crosses paths with a Werner Pfennig, a German soldier, in occupied France during World War II. After her uncle disappears, Marie takes over his nightly clandestine radio broadcasts from the attic. Werner’s job is to track down resistance operations, including radio broadcasts. His life and Marie’s collide in this book, which illuminates the ways people try to be good to one another against all odds.
I gave the novel five stars on Goodreads, saying, “This book has *almost* spoiled me for any other. The writing! The metaphors! The sensory descriptions! OMG. The flipping between time periods and character points of view were confusing at times, but it all works in the end. So, keep reading. You won’t be disappointed.”
The character of Marie is played by a woman who is actually blind, “That’s valuable detail that impacts and informs every frame of this series,” Director Levy said. He conducted a global casting search for the part.
“We got thousands of videos. One of them is a unicorn of a discovery. She’s never auditioned, she’s never thought about being an actress, she’s an academic,” Levy explained.
He chose Aria Mia Loberti. She’s an American who was a graduate student in rhetoric. She learned about the audition from a former childhood teacher. Aria was a fan of the book and this is her first acting role.
Levy optioned the rights for the story after it was rejected by another firm, which decided it was too complicated to tell in a single movie.
Levy directs all four episodes, a task that Doerr called “herculean,” but Levy said this allows for aesthetic continuity between episodes.
Levy decided to direct all four out of selfishness because he loved the book. “By page 12 of episode 1 of the script . . . I said, ‘Oh no, no, I can’t share. I need to direct it and I need to direct all of it because I want live in this world and create this world in a way that feels uniform and unified across episodes.’”
Levy describes the work as one story that happens to have four episodic breaks. “I knew if I could make myself happy as a rabid fan of this book, likely I could make other fans happy. That was my whole strategy.”
Levy previously directed “Stranger Things,” a sci-fi horror series on Netflix. He also directed “The Night at the Museum” movies and “Deadpool 3.”
Doerr said that the general advice writers get is to write what they know. “I like to write into what I don’t know.” With “All the Light,” he said to Levy, “often, I’d get one-and-a-half sentences in and just like you guys, I’d have to go and build the set.” He had to research what it was like to be blind during the time period of World War II.
Levy asked Doerr how he combines lyrical storytelling with a taut narrative action. “Often, as a novelist, you’re toggling between the tiniest microscopic details, which can take a whole morning . . . and then other days, you’re trying to move totally structurally, and think, ‘where’s this tiny moment in the book falling in the larger scope of the narrative?’” Doerr said.
Levy finished Doerr’s thought with: “Because you always have to keep the narrative in your mind. Always. But you also have to be hyper-focused on this shot. It’s like zooming in and out from a macro to a micro lens.”
Many people think the book’s title comes from the blindness of the protagonist, but this was not Doerr’s intention. He thought of the title while on a train to NYC to see his editor about the cover of his current novel at the time.
“There was a guy in the seat in front of me and he was on his big 2004 cell phone. He was talking about the movie, ‘The Matrix.’ I remember that quite clearly. As we go underground as we near the city and Penn Station, his call drops, and he gets unreasonably angry. I remember thinking at the moment that what he’s doing is a miracle. He’s got this tiny set – a radio — a receiver and a transmitter no bigger than a deck of cards, and he’s expecting this conversation to work at 60 miles an hour, sending these little packets of light between radio towers at the speed of light. And who knows, the person’s he’s talking to could be in Madagascar or France. I remember thinking that what we’re all taking for granted is using this invisible light that can pass through walls. It’s a miracle and so many generations of humanity never had access to this kind of communication.
“I wrote down the title (usually titles come really late to me) but I wrote down “All the Light We Cannot See” in my little notebook that I carry in my pocket before I had anything. All I had was a girl reading a story to a boy, which is how episode 1 really begins, over the radio. I conceived of her being blind and him trapped in darkness, desperately needing this story. I just wanted to play with all the metaphorical meanings of where are we living and what our human perceptions involve.”
Levy asked Doerr whether it is surreal to have this population of people living in your head for years and then to see them burst into life on the screen. Doerr replied that he was blown away by seeing Aria’s audition video and also by the younger version of Marie, played by a child actress named Nell.
The movie stars other, more familiar actors, too. Wisconsinite Mark Ruffalo plays Daniel, Marie’s father. Hugh Laurie plays the reclusive uncle.
From being privy to episode 1, I can tell you that if you loved the book, you’ll love this series! I still can’t quite believe that I was invited to this preview.
Then the screening and conversation was over. Just as mysteriously, my internet reappeared at that instant. It made me wonder how many people got invited to this “exclusive” screening, anyway?
Unlike the man on Doerr’s train, I did not get unreasonably angry when my technology stopped working. I did get stressed out though, because I didn’t want to miss the screening. The irony does not escape me that my cell phone worked while the train man’s didn’t. And for that, we have to thank the miracle of invisible light that can pass through walls.
…For the first time in my life I had failed to work for the joy of knowing the wilderness; had not given it a chance to become a part of me. –Sigurd Olson, “The Singing Wilderness”
Garretts Point Campsite
After our delightful stay on the Duckfoot Islands, we headed back toward the houseboat base. Our goal was Garretts Point, another sandy campsite in a protected cove. This was Garrett’s idea, for obvious reasons.
He successfully piloted us out into the lake. Then I decided to give houseboat driving another try. The first time I did it, my steering wasn’t so bad, despite the wind. There was less wind on this day, but my steering was much worse. I almost did a 180 with the boat! Luckily, we were in the middle of the lake, without any obstacles. That was one reason why I chose this stretch to try again.
The campsite rubber duckie
As I zigzagged down our route, I figured out my problem. I’m used to steering a sailboat with a rudder. For that, you turn the rudder in the opposite direction you want the boat to go. Not so with a houseboat. To turn right, you turn the wheel to the right. I kept wanting to do the opposite. Also, you’re steering from near the front of the boat and the motor is in the back. That’s weird, too.
Despite all this, we successfully reached the Brule Narrows again and Garrett took over. The rest of our trip to Garretts Point in a light rain was uneventful. The site is sandy, but the beach is not as big as the one at the Duckfoot Islands. The fire ring is circled by nine stately red pines. We were greeted by a sparkly rubber duckie that someone had left on a rock by the fire ring.
Garrett was excited to arrive, and we took an obligatory picture of him standing behind the official campsite sign. Russ explored in the kayak and found a huge beaver house nearby. The beaver visited us that night as we sat around the fire.
I spent most of my time reading, but I also had a chance to explore my feelings. It didn’t seem right to be able to access these rustic locations without working very hard. Sure, driving the boat was stressful, but I wouldn’t call it physical labor. I’m used to canoeing for days and sleeping on the ground. This just seemed way too easy, like we didn’t earn it. It felt surreal to sit in my fluffy bathrobe next to a rocky campsite with scraggly jack pines and the chatter of a red squirrel.
The bell on our boat
Northwoods writer Sigurd Olson had these same feelings when he flew into Quetico National Park in Canada in a seaplane. In his book, “The Singing Wilderness,” he described the switch from civilization so quickly to the wilderness as “violent” and a psychological shock. While flying into the wilderness was what he had dreamed of doing, it didn’t allow him time to adjust and to soak in the wilderness ambiance.
He wrote, “Yes, I had been on a flight, had gone far into the lake country, had taken a few trout and enjoyed myself, but inside I was still a little out of breath and somewhat baffled by what I had done.”
We had another restful night and got up early in the morning so that we could drive the houseboat back to base by 9 a.m. so that somebody else could use it. In no time at all, we were back to the base. The houseboat guys came out to us when we were in the bay to pilot the boat into the dock.
As it turns out, we arrived in the nick of time. As we were clearing our gear out of the boat, we heard on the radio that the wind had switched and picked up speed. The base issued a no-travel advisory. We were glad we didn’t get stuck out there because Garrett had a plane to catch back to New York City. Whew!
I was glad to have had the houseboat experience, but I know that the next time I visit these northern border lakes it will be with a paddle and a pack so that like Olson, I can, “feel the rocks under my feet, breathe the scent of balsam and spruce under the sun, feel the wetness of spray and muskeg, be part of the wilderness itself.”
Marie's Meanderings 