Tag: lake living

Posted on in family, lake living, nature

On the pontoon

People on a pontoon boat ride

We have a new ride these days, a pontoon boat. Everyone is loving it, from the kids to the dogs, garnering Dave a new nickname, Captain Dave.

Since they were first introduced, pontoon boats have channelled the ultimate party vibe. Step onto the astroturf, get your koozie, let’s go.* You can fish, swim and tube off of them, or just sit back and enjoy the ride.

There is one cottage couple on our lake who take a nightly sunset tour on their pontoon boat, waving regally in the breeze to their neighbours on their docks and decks as they putter along the shoreline.

The pontoon boat is a relatively new invention. It was designed in 1952 by a rural Minnesota farmer named Ambrose Weeres who tied a wooden deck to two aluminum cylinders. He started manufacturing his invention, and the rest, they say is history.

When I was a teenager, I spent many of my summers up at friend’s cottages. Pontoon boats hadn’t made a splash yet on Ontario lakes in those days. It wasn’t until the early 2000s when boat manufacturers starting revving up the horsepower that pontoon boats became all the rage.

All of a sudden, pontoon boats started replacing high-powered speed boats on Ontario’s waterways. Now it seems the only people with speedboats are waterskiiers and fishermen. Today, more than 50,000 new pontoon boats are sold each year in the US.

Pontoon boats are great for many reasons. For people with accessibility issues, they provide a safe, stable means of getting out and enjoying the water. You can have a conversation on a pontoon boat, as opposed to yelling over the motor in a speedboat. They are also highly practical since they can carry large loads of people and items for cottagers needing to barge supplies across the water.

That’s all wonderful, but let’s face it, it’s the vibe of a pontoon boat that is irresistible.

Whether it’s the gentle breeze blowing in your hair, the lure of the perfect cast and catch at dusk, or simply enjoying a laugh and smile with friends and the people you love on the water, a pontoon is the ultimate summer ride.

The best months of summer are upon us. This week’s #HappyAct is to make some waves and catch some rays and party in the open on a pontoon.*

*Lyrics from Little Big Town’s 2012 hit, Pontoon

Man and woman eating chips on a pontoon boat

Pictured above: Partying on the pontoon last weekend at our friend Libby and Murray’s cottage; Below: Captain Dave, the girls, and Grace and me on our pontoon.

Man at the helm of a pontoon boat
Two teenagers high fiving on a pontoon boat
Mother and daughter smiling on a pontoon boat
Posted on in environment, nature, travel

The lakes of my life

Sydenham Lake at dusk

Are you a mountain, beach or desert person?

My brother is a desert person. There’s something about the light and landscapes of places like New Mexico, Utah and Nevada that speaks to him. Since I live on a lake, and am a water baby, it will come as no surprise to you that I’m a beach person.

And while Canada is blessed to boast three coastlines, all with stunning scenery, I have long since realized that I will always need to be or live on interior lakes where I can swim.

Here are ten interior lakes in Canada that hold a special place in my heart:

  • Big Hawk Lake: I’ve been visiting this beautiful lake north of Minden, Ontario since I was a teenager. The lake is on a popular canoe route and is dotted with pretty islands and bays and has several interesting features including rapids, a historic log chute, a rockface known as the three chiefs, rocks for cliff jumping and even a totem pole.
  • Lake Moraine: There is a reason why this picturesque lake in Banff National Park in Alberta was featured on our $20 bill. When you round the corner from the short hiking trail, your breath is literally taken away by its stunning turquoise blue colour and mountainous backdrop. (The colour is unique to glacial lakes and is caused by rock flour that is produced as glaciers grind against bedrock and is carried by glacial meltwater into the lake). Substitute any mountain lake in the Rockies or BC.
  • Red Lake: Anyone who has spent time in northern Ontario will understand why Dave’s father calls this region God’s country. Located where the road ends off the TransCanada highway near the Manitoba border, Red Lake is a fisherman’s dream, spanning 165 kms of islands, bays teeming with walleye, northern pike and muskie. The constant drone of float planes taking off from Howie Bay serenade you while on the water, but can make swimming in Red Lake hazardous!
  • Mazinaw Lake: Bon Echo Provincial Park houses this second deepest lake in Ontario, famous for its impressive 100 metre high Mazinaw Rock. While the rockface itself is magnificent, it’s the ancient pictographs painted centuries ago by the Algonquin and Anishinaabe peoples that are said to have spiritual meanings and qualities that attract people to the cliffs.
  • Georgian Bay: With more than 30,000 islands and grey granite sculpted shorelines, Georgian Bay is a boaters dream. Every time I’ve spent time in this beautiful region of Ontario, I fall in love all over again with its greenish blue waters, unique shorelines and undulating waves that stretch for miles and miles.
  • Lake Superior: The granddaddy of the Great Lakes, Lake Gitche Gumee is massive, majestic, and magical. It can be peaceful, calm, and breathtaking on a nice day, and dark, menacing and deadly on a stormy day. Take the Lake Superior Circle Tour, a 2,000 km route and enjoy the magnificent views and natural wonders. Be sure to take a slight detour to Mackinac Island just south of Sault Ste Marie.  
  • Lake Memphramagog: This stunning lake in the Eastern Townships straddles the Quebec/Vermont border and offers picturesque mountain views. Legend has it that a sea monster inhabits the lake! Spend an afternoon strolling along the boardwalk in Magog or in the pretty town of Newport, Vermont which Dave and I explored last fall on our way back from the Maritimes.
  • Opeongo Lake or any lake in Algonquin Park: There’s something about Algonquin Park that is special. When people think of a wild space, they think of Algonquin. Picture early morning mist gently rising off the water, revealing stately pines lining the shoreline and pure silence. It’s pure heaven.
  • Mackenzie Lake: Located near Lake St. Peter Provincial Park in Ontario, this lake and region is a snowmobiler’s dream in the winter with trails galore. Surrounded by cliffs, there is one concave rockface on the southern end of the lake that becomes almost mystical towards the end of the day when the light hits it. Patterns of light dance across the rockface and the water. Alone in a canoe or kayak, it’s one of the most spiritual places I’ve ever been. 
  • Lake of the Woods OR Lake Muskoka/Lake Joseph: Okay, since this is supposed to be a top ten list, I’m cheating and combining the lakes that make up the “Muskoka of the South” and the “Muskoka of the North”, even though they are 1,600 kms apart. Beautiful, stunning and expansive, these lakes have become prime real estate. Take a boat cruise and spend time gawking at the million dollar cottages. Hey, you can always dream!
  • Bonus pic: Desert Lake or any lake in South Frontenac. Dave and I moved to this area thirty years ago because of all the beautiful shield lakes and its proximity to Kingston. When you’re paddling on the north end of Desert Lake on a bright sunny day, watching eagles perching on the tips of pine trees swaying in the breeze and loons feeding their babies beside your canoe, you feel like you’re in paradise.

Of course, every lake is special. I’m reminded of this every time I’m out exploring our pretty little lake in my kayak. This week’s #HappyAct is to spend some time on the water.

Related reading: The trees of my life

Rockface at Mackenzie Lake

The sunlight reflecting off this conclave rock face on Mackenzie Lake at the end of the day is very spiritual. I’ve yet to photograph it in the perfect light.

Beach with canoes

Pog light campground in Algonquin Park

Girls paddling kayaks at dusk

My girls paddling at dusk on Big Hawk Lake.

Featured photo above: Sydenham Lake at dusk in South Frontenac.

Posted on in ageing, inspiration, lifestyle, retirement

The art of pushing

Woman skating on a frozen lake

As humans, we are constantly in a state of internal conflict. Indulge (and then usually feel guilty about it) or abstain, get up and move or laze on the couch, push ourselves outside our comfort zone or stay within the confines and comfort of routine.

It is an art and balance we need to master in order to be happy.

With age comes a new wrinkle in this ever-changing struggle of understanding and respecting your physical limitations.

As I’ve aged, I’ve tried to navigate the art of pushing by deciding what is important to me, and what I enjoy doing with realistic expectations of what I’m capable of doing.

I’ve never been one of those extreme sports enthusiasts or had any desire to push myself to the limit, whether its running, car racing or facing the wilds. For me, it’s not about iron mans, marathons or the Canadian Death Race (yes, it’s an actual ultramarathon held in Alberta each year in the Rockies where a very small field of 1,000 certifiably insane racers run non-stop for 24 hours through the mountains, sponsored by sinistersports.ca—the name itself should send you running and screaming in the opposite direction.)

My idea of a fun afternoon is skating and ice fishing on my lake, followed by a nice glass of Merlot in front of my woodstove while watching the Bills hopefully beat the Chiefs tonight.

The art of pushing for me is forcing myself to continue to do the things I love to do and not kill myself.

Now, when we go on an interior canoe trip to Algonquin Park, we plan a route that doesn’t involve portaging or we might rent an outpost cabin.

I still love to hike, play hockey and skate on lakes, but my days of doing pirouettes, lunges, or racing like crazy to beat the neighbours’ kids to the puck are over.

I will continue to push myself to experience new things, new places and meet new people even if it feels awkward at first.

Martin Luther King said, “Keep pushing forward, even when the path is uncertain, for greatness awaits those who persist”.

Well, if not greatness, hopefully a nice glass of Merlot.

Posted on in environment, nature

Learn to accept when nature takes its course

Great blue heron on a shoreline

Last Sunday, I walked down to the lake to throw some sticks for Bentley so he could have a late fall swim.

As we approached the dock, we startled a large great blue heron who had been standing on the shoreline close to the dock. Bentley started chasing the heron, and instead of flying away, which would have been the bird’s normal behaviour, the heron flapped its wings into the water a few feet, flailed around for a bit, then limped back to shore.

By this time, I realized something was wrong with my friend Harry. I hastily called Bentley off and sat down on the dock to observe him.

I couldn’t see any visible sign he was injured. I thought one of his legs might have been hurt, but herons have those weird stilt-like legs that bend almost backwards when they walk so it was hard to tell. Also, if his leg was hurt, he probably could still fly away. There was also no marked injury on his wings.

I called Sandy Pines Wildlife Centre for some advice. They suggested trying to capture the heron with a sheet or blanket and place it in a dog crate and bring it in. I still wasn’t convinced Harry was hurt, so I decided to leave it for a day and if Harry was still in the same spot 24 hours later, I’d reassess. I watched him catch and eat a frog, so I knew he was at least eating.

I was busy in town the next morning, but went down to the lake after lunch, and sure enough, Harry was still there.

He was standing on a steep section of the shoreline, and I had no idea how I could catch him safely. I also wanted a second opinion since I wasn’t convinced he was injured. I also knew that any capture attempt would be extremely stressful on the bird.

Dave thought he just might be old and ready to fly away to the big heron rookery in the sky. Herons live typically 15-20 years and are very territorial, so if this was my friend Harry who I shared our lake with for the past 20 years, it was possible he was weak and old and nearing the end of his life.

I called my neighbour Bruno who came over on his pontoon boat. Using the trolling motor, we came within five feet of Harry. He didn’t fly away but kept hopping along the shore away from us. Bruno agreed something was wrong with him (he would have flown away), but we came to the conclusion there was no way we could catch him and he was just old.

As we were about to give up the mission, Harry mustered up his last ounce of energy and lifted his majestic wings for a final low flight across the lake, almost as if to say, “thanks for the concern guys, but I’d prefer to be alone.”

I snuck in two paddles during those final warm days of October. I found Harry standing camouflaged in the marsh in the exact same spot he had flown to both days across the lake. I said my goodbyes and accepted it was time for nature to take its course.

Heron on the shore
Great blue heron
Posted on in family, health and wellness, mental health, nature, relationships

Find your anchors in life

Sun shimmering on a lake as seen from a deck

As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to recognize the importance of anchors in life.

An anchor can be a person, a place, a thing, or something you love to do that lifts you up and feeds your soul. It is anything that grounds you or provides comfort or solace during times of trouble.

For a child, an anchor might be a teddy bear or favourite toy. For a widower, it may be a cherished photo of their spouse sitting on their nightstand.

My anchors are living and being in nature, swimming, music, writing, and Dave.

You really know when something is an anchor in your life when it isn’t there. This past week, Dave had his second knee replaced. Thankfully, the surgery went well and he’s now home resting nicely, but he was in far more pain the day of the operation compared to his first knee replacement and they kept him in the hospital overnight.

I returned home to an empty house that night feeling a bit lost and adrift. Dave has always been a big anchor in my life, and I found myself wandering around the house, restless and anxious. I was never so happy to find him doing much better the next day and ready to come home.

Living and spending time in nature is another key anchor for me. In the summer, I know I need to spend at least an hour or two at the lake every day. If I don’t, I get surly. The trees, the sun glimmering on the water, and spending time outdoors are an essential part of my happiness.

Swimming is an extension of this. I remember a particular Saturday two years ago when Dave’s sister was dying of cancer. Dave and I were helping my brother-inlaw at the house and taking turns driving him to the hospital to see MaryAnne. I spent the morning at the hospital, then we drove back to the house, where I did some chores and took their black flat-coated retriever for a walk. We were waiting for one of their kids who had travelled a long distance to arrive before going back to the hospital, and I slipped away for an hour to go for a long swim at Westport Beach. It was what I needed to face the rest of the day which turned out to be the day MaryAnne died.

Over the years, writing has become an anchor for me. I’ve enjoyed sharing my thoughts on happiness on this blog, and now in retirement, I’m excited to tackle many new writing projects.

This week’s #HappyAct is to reflect on and be grateful for the anchors in your life. What are yours? Leave a comment.

Posted on in environment, nature

Pretend you didn’t hear anything

Garter snake in a kayak

The other day, I went for a late afternoon kayak. It was one of those glorious September days when the sun feels warm on your skin, the air is still and there is just a hint of colour in the leaves.

I watched the baby loons (our loons had two babies this year) being fed fish by their mother and mewing for more and the seagulls floating in the breeze, and kept paddling through the two channels into the back lake.

As I was sitting basking in the afternoon sun, I started to hear a rustling sound come from behind me. I’ve heard this sound before when a snake stowed away in my kayak.

I decided to adopt the strategy of pretending I didn’t hear anything even though I was pretty sure at this point it wasn’t a solo kayak trip.

The strategy was working just fine until my snake friend decided to make an appearance and slither past me under my life jacket towards the front of the boat.

I like snakes and I’ve been around them enough to know that they won’t hurt you if you just leave them alone. This guy was a harmless garter snake, but he clearly was a little put out that he was trapped in a moving hollow tube with no means of escape.

I didn’t see him for a few minutes, so went back to pretending he wasn’t there, until he started gliding towards me head first with his little red tongue wagging at me. His green and black silk body brushed the side of my leg and just as I started to stiffen, wondering what he was going to do next, something spooked him and he ducked under my life jacket again.

I paddled faster.

The next time he came out he slithered even farther up my leg, right to the top of my thighs, until he was almost resting on my lap, his beady little eyes looking up at me as if to say “You better get me out of this boat or else”. This was a little too close for comfort for my liking, and as I was planning my next move, he slid over my leg towards the back of the kayak.

I didn’t see him again for the rest of the trip.

Sometimes the best strategy is to just pretend you didn’t hear anything.

And if that fails and reality slithers up your leg, stay calm, breathe deeply, and paddle like hell.

Snake slithering out of a kayak

My snake friend finally escapes to land, and below, happy in his regular home amongst the weeds, looking for frogs.

Snake in weeds beside a lake
Posted on in dogs, lifestyle, nature, pets

Dock decisions

Woman standing on dock beside a lake

Read or snooze

Beer or cooler

One sip. Two sips

Backstroke. Sidestroke

Swim or snorkel

Canoe or kayak

Throw the ball or let the stupid dog nudge it in the water for the hundredth time

If only every decision in life was a dock decision.

My dog Bentley with his football on our dock
Posted on in dogs, health and wellness, lifestyle, nature

What’s your happy state?

Bentley wet and bedraggled at the lake

They say people resemble their dogs. This is definitely true for Bentley and me. During the summer months, we know it’s been a good day if we’re wet and bedraggled.

Bentley of course, wears the look much better than me. After a day of swimming at the lake, his gorgeous russet brown fur glistens in the sunshine, making swirly patterns on his back.

I’m more on the bedraggled side, but I come by this look naturally. I have fond memories of my Mom, wet and bedraggled after a day at the beach at Lake Simcoe.

She’s been gone almost 40 years now, but I can still picture her walking back from the beach, in beat up old running shoes filled with sand, her short brown hair tousled with a few strands falling across her face. She wore an old one-piece bathing suit with a towel draped around her neck with a big smile on her face. We were always happy up at that old beach cottage.

I think about my Mom as I trudge up our wooded path from the lake, my feet squishing in my crocs feeling clean and refreshed. I’m in my happy state, wet and bedraggled.

What’s your happy state?

Author at the lake with a towel draped around her neck
Posted on in family, health and wellness, mental health

What’s your once a day?

Lake and clouds

When life is challenging, it’s important to have an escape, something that helps take your mind off things and help you face what’s to come. For me, it’s always been swimming.

Last Saturday was a particularly difficult day. I was in Westport helping my brother-in-law. I knew it was going to be a long, stressful day. In between chores and calls, I slipped down to Westport Beach for 45-minutes and went for a long swim in Sand Lake.

The minute I splashed into the water, all the stresses and sadness began to wash away. My weary eyes concentrated on the beautiful sunshine sparkling on the water and dreamy white clouds floating up above. With each stroke, I swam away from my troubles, towards what I thought was a white buoy bobbing in the water, but on closer inspection was a very large gull. I felt cleansed, refreshed and at peace with what would come.

For my neighbour Kim, her once a day is her garden. As long as she can spend 30 minutes a day in her garden, she feels happy, balanced, ready to face what life brings.

Dave says his once a day is to look at our beautiful lake and remind himself every day how lucky we are, knowing there are so many people in the world who are not so fortunate.

What’s your once a day? Leave a comment.

Posted on in dogs, family, lifestyle, nature, Technology and social media

Spend time with a different type of screen

Dog in screened porch

I’ve always loved a screen porch. There’s just something special about feeling like you’re outdoors, in nature but without the bugs, and spending quality time talking, playing cards, reading or doing puzzles.

The other night after dinner, I wandered into the front room and asked Dave where the girls were. He said he thought Clare was in the screened porch doing school work.

I went to join her and found Grace sitting on the futon, gently strumming her guitar while Clare sat in the lounger under a fluffy duvet writing out an assignment. I joined them and we just sat there for about an hour, listening to the chords float into the air, the birds chirping outside and watching the cotton candy sky swirl above the leafy treetops as the sun went down.

It was a special moment in a special place and I was so grateful to be able to spend time with my girls, with no phones, computers or devices to take away from the peace, serenity and tranquility of our beautiful surroundings.

This week’s #HappyAct is to spend some time with a different type of screen. Here’s a picture of Bentley after a swim in our screened porch.