The Wilderness Has Teeth, But It Sings
We took our four-year-old grandson, Z, to the cabin this weekend, along with his mom, Billie. By the time this posts goes out, we’ll be back across the lake and on our way home … Z will be asking to go back.
The cabin—a rustic one room log cabin built by hand in 1933—is in the Boundary Waters, six hours away from our home in Minneapolis. It’s a water access only property, which means we have to—as the last leg of our long journey down the North Shore of Lake Superior and then the Gunflint Trail—take our boat the rest of the way.
There is no soft landing here.