As the week progressed, the winds on Georgian Bay continued to build and the interest in being wind-bound on a tiny piece of rock watching the churning lake waters swirl by declined to near zero. Finally, when the forecast promised to add driving rain and freezing nights to the mix, I decided that returning to the chores waiting at home wasn't such a bad option after all! I returned back into the labyrinth of narrow channels that led back to Honey Harbour where I could momentarily escape the nastier aspects of the weather.
Some of these channels would sneak through the landscape for hours, often only a boat length in width and lined with a mix of virgin forest and cottages. Some people built 'camps', small getaways without power or other facilities, the idea being to return themselves to a simpler existence in the wilderness where they could recharge their batteries from Nature's storehouse...
Other folks felt if they were going to the wilds, then it would be with everything they had back home in the city. Now and then the shorelines were lined with mega-cottages, more suited to the city than cottage country. For me, it begged the question, why bother coming to the country only to end up arriving back at much the same home you left in the city?
1 comment:
This is the puzzling question I ask whenever I tent or go to our hunting camp. We lack electricity, indoor plumbing, running water, and (gasp)connectivity, yet there is no place more mentally relaxing for me. I get the 'lakehome' concept but don't necessarily buy into it.
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