Dave's cabin

Summer, 2010 ~

It had been too long since my wife and I escaped the place we refer to as civilization. So when an old friend offered his Northwoods cabin to us for the Independence Day weekend, we gladly accepted. We have been acquainted with Dave since the mid-1980’s, when he and I worked together in broadcasting. He now lives in Texas, but keeps the cabin as a place to vacation, host family, and perhaps, eventually to be enjoyed in his retirement.

His dad, James, originally bought this old three-room shack, situated on the western side of upper Sibley Lake. Later, when it was time to bring the place into a more habitable state, Dave was invited to buy-in. Together, they added a living space and office, updated the kitchen, and turned the previous living area into another bedroom. The exterior of the cabin was finished with the natural look of cedar siding, so as to feel at home in the woods.

Standing in the center of the living area, it was not hard to envision the father and son working together on their project. Saving money. Planning the layout. Pitching-in on the jobs they could handle, and selecting the right craftsmen for jobs that required skills they, themselves, did not have. In picturing their work on the project, I did not see the muscles made sore by carrying lumber, nor the hammered knuckles or sliver-filled fingertips of the workmen. Only the vaulted pine ceiling, the sturdy deck overlooking the lake, and an eclectic variety of furniture, antiques and mementos gathered over the years. There is a pair of traditional snowshoes hanging on the lake-side wall, a pair of old wooden skis leaning in the corner, and a small pot-belly stove in the middle of the room. A sliding door faces both the lake and the sunrise; a combination that could only be made better by a very early morning and the aroma of fresh coffee.

Once upon a time—and I suppose this could be said of any place—the Brainerd Lakes area was considered “wilderness.” While still very nice, it has become a popular vacation destination, heavily populated by tourists and cabin owners in the summer, hunters in the fall, and snowmobile owners during winter. Most of the lake-side dwellings could hardly be called cabins; many of them are massive structures, featuring numerous out-buildings to hold a menagerie of toys: Speed boats and the various accessories they might tow, pontoons, jet-skis and the like. (A man paddling across the lake in a kayak or canoe does so at high risk. Not related to waves, wind, or skill level, but because of the heavy traffic of motorized watercraft.) Of course, to make room for these personal theme parks, many trees were cleared, much wildlife was displaced, and briar and brush have been replaced by the sod of finely manicured lawns. Rocks placed on the shore by glaciers have been moved to the front yard to serve as ornaments, and in their place, sand has been trucked-in to create the perfect beach.

Thousands of people have come to love their place at the lake; indeed, I only fear they might love it to death. In their quest to get "back to nature," they are instead beating nature back.

But I digress.

In contrast to all of this, there is Dave’s cabin. It sits at the end of a dirt driveway that you might not see from the road if you hadn't known what to look for. A tool shed in the yard holds most of the essential goods; a mower for the relatively small part of the lawn that is cut (most of the land is left to its natural devices), a snow thrower, various tools for cabin repair, a set of golf clubs and a few fishing rods.

From the back deck, the branches of birch and pine frame a breathtaking view of Sibley Lake. At this moment, there is no walkway down to the water; to reach the lake below, you must navigate through the thickets and down a very steep slope. Dave’s goal is to build a stairway down to the water, eventually, with a few landings where one might stop and enjoy the scenery. But he is compelled to leave the balance of the land as it is now, perfectly disorganized by nature. Near the base of the hill is a small storage shed that came with the property (it is showing its years), and a Grumman canoe that waits to serve Dave, his wife, and their visitors. Or, land-lovers can sit on the edge of the lake, listen for loons, and notice how much life there really is… swimming and blooming among the lily pads just off-shore.

Julie and I enjoyed the weekend a great deal, playing cards, chatting, making meals together. She did some reading. I did some writing.

It occurs to me that for some people, the lake is a place to enjoy all of the things that you have. For others, it is a great place to realize how little you need.





© 2010 Mike D. Anderson. All rights reserved.