What it means to be at “The Lodge”….

My nearly 83 year old mother, Betty (and, SHE is the one that reminds me that she is nearly 83 so don’t blame me for pointing it out) sarcastically corrects my friends when they ask if I am at “The Lodge.”

She says, “It’s not really a Lodge.  It’s a one bedroom cabin.  He makes it sound like its some huge compound when its really a quaint little thing with a  bunk house.”

First, I love my Mom, but she is sarcastic.

Second, she’s wrong, it may be a one bedroom cabin, but it is “The Lodge.”

This year will be the 9th year we have owned this little slice of Heaven near Cable, Wisconsin.  What started out as a little refuge to bring our then 6 and 4 year old kids has became a remarkable place of renewal.

More so for me, I suspect, than the rest of my family.

I always try to get people to use The Lodge when we aren’t there.  I find it a shame that it goes unused at all during the year when so much peace, and quiet and joy could be had with a quick three hour car ride from the Twin Cities — and a bottle of crappy booze left behind as a reminder of one’s stay.

The Hot Tub died a few weeks back — after six years — it was used…a 1998 model, I think.  So we got every last cent out of it.

We just ordered a new, used one that was built in 2006 and has some God awful green interior.  I am sure it is going to be glorious!

We do have a bunk house that can sleep a ton of people with something call an Inciniolet Toilet (sarcastically referred to as “The Burning Crapper” by my children — wonder where they got the sarcasm from!?!?)

We are less than five minutes from trail heads to bike, ski, run and hike along The Birkie Trail and CAMBA Bike Trails.  Fishing is right outside the door in our little spring fed lake, Pacwawong Springs, and we are surrounded by dozens of lakes within 30 minutes or less from our front door.

We have great year round neighbors who watch after The Lodge while we are away and have become a part of our Lodge Family over the years.

For those of my Facebook Friends fortunate enough to have shared The Lodge with us — or by themselves — I am always struck by their appreciation for a simple little building nestled in the woods.

It is a place of reflection.  Renewal. And, celebration.  My favorite memories of all things at The Lodge are those things with my family and friends — and with my children, in particular.

It’s the night I fell asleep with Owen on the deck looking at the stars only to be awakened by the soft snow that had fallen on us as we snoozed.

Or, the moments on my little boat on my little lake with my little girl as she caught her first fish and celebrated as though it was a whale.

There’s the big gaggle of family during The Birkie and The Birkie Trail Run — and my own private moments when I do the Fat Tire — and just the ordinary times that seem so extraordinary.

What it means to be at “The Lodge” is no longer just a physical place for me.  It’s a state of mind, and mine, when I need it.

It’s something that I think everyone needs to have sometime in their life.

As I move onto my 52 year, I look forward to 48 more years of The Lodge and the times with those that mean the most to me in my life.

And, remember, if you need The Lodge in your life, all you gotta do is send me a note–pick up the keys– and when you’re done vacuum the floor and leave behind something that is barely drinkable for adults!

2 comments

  1. oregonduckmd · April 22, 2015

    You should really submit this for publication in “Cabin Life” magazine. The articles written by cabin owners about their special places are my favorite part of the magazine. This is fantastically written.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s