It was a cold, snowy morning in February, and I was sipping coffee in a small cafe on the North Shore. Ruffling through some old newspapers, I noticed a tiny advertisement that listed a small lake lot in the area at a very reasonable price. Inquisitiveness took over and, after a long-distance phone call from the cafe's phone to get directions, I found myself 20 miles up an unplowed road following vague directions to the property.
After searching unsuccessfully, I banged on the door of the only nearby cabin with smoke rising from its chimney. I was met by an elderly woman who pulled on an old parka and agreed to show me the lot, a lovely pine-covered spot sitting high above the shore of a pristine, snow-covered lake. After an excited phone call home and encouragement from my wonderful wife, I immediately phoned the heir of the owner and bought what has become the basis for 10 years of planning and constructing our dream cabin.
We cleared the site with a chain saw and burned the brush, the chores becoming a welcome respite from our busy city lives. A contractor framed up the cabin, and we spent the following years staining siding, installing plumbing, paneling a cathedral ceiling, and completing myriad other challenging chores. Often we worked at night, illuminated by gas lanterns. We are totally off the grid. A friend supplied a Franklin fireplace that wasn't needed, a well was drilled, a septic installed. A shed was added to house fishing poles, the old outboard motor and a generator. Eventually we had all the comforts we needed.
Today our grandchildren have discovered the joys of leaving their electronic toys behind for the pleasure of awakening to the lonely call of a loon, of jumping off the dock, of fishing for hammer -handle-size pike, and of listening under the glow of the Northern Lights, for the occasional howl of nearby timberwolves.
The original purchase seemed impulsive. Fortunately my wife recognized what a wonderful gathering place it would become. It remains so for our children, grandchildren and friends.
Joe and Ginger Martin, bloomington
