Cabins, Fishing and Memories

    March 17, 2024

 

     Years ago, I tried to learn French, but it never stuck.  A couple of the words I would confuse were chateau and chalet.  Now, a chateau is grand building, like the Chateau Frontenac in Quebec City, while the chalet is a cabin in the woods.  Sometimes, when I see a new cottage, I wonder if the owners have confused the words as well.

     I can see reasons for building a chateau.  What if your friends decide to visit, or all your relatives?  Can you imagine your children forced to share a bedroom, like members of some primitive, long ago tribe of proto-humans?  Individual bedrooms are the rock upon which civilization was built.  Check out the pyramids; no sharing there.

     A huge kitchen is a must.  Nothing says vacation like a six burner stove top and a 21 cubic foot refrigerator.  Then, there is the living room with the sectional couch and recliners, close to the stone fireplace and the magnificent bay window with its view of the deck. The latter needs to be large for the patio furniture, barbecue, french fry cooker and a dozen or so people advising the chef.

     Let’s not forget the workshop for the men to hang about in with engine hoists, work benches, a metal lathe and a conveniently located, back-up refrigerator stocked with Dr. Pepper and Kool Aid.

     I am exaggerating just a little.  But in my opinion, too many cottages look like country estates.   I think they miss the point.  You and your relatives should be interacting with the natural world, going for a boat ride, a walk, enjoying the water and even fishing.  The cottage is a place to stay dry and warm as conditions require.

     My own place is modest, and there are others around the lake built with dollars earned and saved up.  I often think of Konner and Koanie’s one room cabin, the oldest building on the lake and built with logs.  It can be hot inside while the supper is cooking, but there’s a screen tent to retreat to.  The shower stall is in a lean-to, and the storage building is about 8 x 10.

     Their cabin has always been a wonderful place to visit, with warm hospitality and so many fishing stories.  On a square footage basis, I would guess their place has provided the most fun per foot.  It was built in the forties and owned by Conie’s dad, so it has been in the family a long time.  

     And speaking of a long time, Konner and Koanie were friends of my parents and have known me since I was a lad.  Konner would come up every spring with his friends in time for the black flies.  They fished for trout and always had a bet going; a dollar apiece for the first fish, most fish and biggest fish.  Those same three dollars changed hands all week.
 

     Then, in August, Konner and Koanie would stay for weeks.  Trout fishing was slow, but the bass made up for it.  I would often stop in to visit.  Once a season, there would be a pork supper with sauerkraut and bread dumplings.  Believe it or not, those dumplings would rise to the top of the boiling water and start rolling over all on their own.

     Gus has often told of the day when he, the missus and Konner went fishing together.  The missus is related to Konner through one of his earlier marriages… he is a fine looking man and the women find him irresistible. But I digress.

     It was one of those rare days where you accidentally troll into a school of lake trout actively feeding.  Konner and the Bush Wife brought in two good trout at the same time.  It kept Gus hopping to net the first fish and get it free of the webbing in time to net the second one. That’s when fishing gets exciting.

     On another occasion, Konner and I fished a trout lake one summer day about a mile’s walk from Lonesome, carrying the small outboard motor and our gear.  His son, Dennis, and adult grandson, Ken, were with us.  We fished from two boats and naturally competed.  Konner caught a good trout and held it up to show off.  Then, Dennis lifted up their trout.  They had beaten us for the biggest, the most and the first.  It was a great day.

Konner and Koanie don’t get here as often anymore, but whenever we chat on the phone we always end up talking about our fishing adventures.  When it comes to cabins and fish, it is the experience we remember.

The size is less important.

Ricky