IT ALL STARTED....

Imagine, when we started all this "Back to the Earth" living, it was just post hippy-days.  Mother Earth News (http://www.motherearthnews.com/) was a really big thing, Foxfire (http://www.foxfire.org) books were the guide for living off the land, many books and other magazines were offering tips on passive solar heating, alternative ways to save energy.  Computers weren't even thought to be a part of everyday life, the best we had for phone service was a radio phone, and you didn't have access to cheap telephone calls, internet, email, solar panels, and really efficient alternative heating.  We lived on an island (which we didn't realize would become our default), we bathed in an aluminum bathtub, we hauled water, we cut holes in the ice, we gathered our own wood for heating, we provisioned for months without access to shopping, and we had no telephone.  What we did have was a waterbed (that we gave up after we couldn't keep it warm), a small Baby Bear Fisher wood stove http://woodburnfireplace.com/baby-bear-fisher-stoves/, 

BABY BEAR STOVE

a large 20 Gal milk can that we filled every two days with water, a propane stove for cooking, a battery operated radio, and a generator that we ran only 3 days a week.  

My husband decided, after having been involved with a family-run fishing resort since the end of the 1960's, he wanted to live a complete year on the island, and was awarded an Ontario Arts Council Grant to photograph the Four Seasons on Lake of the Woods, in Sabaskosing Bay - 35 miles NW of Morson, Ontario and 40 miles south of Kenora, Ontario.   (http://goo.gl/maps/ZCrpG).  The Island is Spruce Island (http://www.spruceislandcamp.com/ ), which is still a family run organization for folks who love fishing, blueberries, wild-life, swimming, and just generally enjoying the best that life can offer.  I had been living in Kansas City the previous winter, and decided that I needed to return North - to real winters, to real purpose, and to experience life in a real way.  During my year after graduating from College, I was a music teacher and choral performer in several organizations in Kansas City, MO.  It was fun, educational, and exciting, but there was something missing for me - the connection to the earth - to nature.  And so, Russ and I reconnected on Spruce Island, decided to marry the following year, and spend our first year of marriage building an unshakable foundation by staying the winter on the Island, and finding out the secrets of Sabaskosing Bay.  After all, when do you get an opportunity like this - to live with little money and search out your dreams?  Perfect timing!

 It is the winter of 1979 - almost the end of the 70's!  Rewind back to those times.  The movement toward communal life is at an all-time high, books abound with information about using solar energy: window design, special material construction, and insulation practices.  We have been researching practices about putting up food, freezing meat, provisioning dry goods, baking bread, wood stoves, and accumulating medical books (just in case anything might go wrong, because we can't get to a hospital easily).  Because Russ has grown up in this area: he knows the ins and outs of the land, the water, and the weather.  He is also adept at motor repair and maintenance, generator functions, chain-saw use, snow-mobiles, chart reading, open-fire cooking, fishing, and hunting.  I, on the other hand, have done a lot of back-woods camping, and enjoy being "off the beaten path", but I haven't lived on an island, run snowmobiles or fishing boats, or used a chain-saw.  I do enjoy cross country skiing, snowshoeing, and exploring by canoe.  So, Russ taught me the basics of running the small motors, getting around the bays, not hitting rocks, and where the good fishing spots are.  Because his skills were so far ahead of mine, I ended up being the domestic chore provider (cooking, baking, cleaning, stoking the fire, journaling, and a few other things).  I guess if this were occurring these days, I would definitely step up my skill level, and he would teach me more about the "manly" chores, and I would get him more involved with creative chores.

The main purpose of our being on the island was not to get away from anything, but to document and bring to people another side of life that is not experienced.  Summer on Lake of the Woods is usually hectic and noisy.  Boats zooming around, water fun, airplanes zipping about, generators running, and folks wanting to get so much activity into their week of a restful holiday, that they push extra hard and wear themselves out!  After September, life changes.  The colors become glorious, the skies deepen, the ducks gather, the geese honk, and the land returns to its natural rhythm.  You can hear wolves howl, track moose, creep up on bears, and bask in the golden rays of the sun.  Fall is such a wonderful time in the north - crispness in the air, crackling branches, and creativity starts flowing.  And so, with the end of October, which we celebrated with a provisioning trip, snow fall, and ice forming, we settled into the rhythm of winter and photographing.  

Our main systems back then were very simple:  wood for heat, propane for cooking, a generator for power three times a week, and hauling water for drinking and using.  We used an outdoor biffy until it got too cold, and after that we used a small porta-potty for our toilet.  Light in the evening was kerosene lamps, which were bright and warm but required vigilance in cleaning and care.  We also had a battery operated radio, which brought in a very few stations.  This part of the world used to be known as radio wasteland, due to all the granite around, and the distance from any transmission tower.  Our main listening stations were CBC AM (Thunder Bay) and CBC FM (Winnipeg). Our bath times were an event, because we would have to haul extra water, heat it on the Baby Bear stove, and then take turns in the hot water. After we finished (luckily you don't get too dirty in the winter), we would add laundry detergent, and soak the clothes in the tub for a few hours (sometimes overnight), and then wring them out, rinse them in a tub of hand-hauled water, and then hang out to sublimate.  Hopefully the wind would not change during the 4 days it took to dry them, because then the clothes would smell of smoke.  Russ was a great firebuilder, even back then, and we learned which woods to use for starting a fire, and then keeping a fire going.  We would search different islands for birch and oak.  Sometimes we would get lucky enough to find ash, too.  The pine that was so prevalent was great for starting fires, with the pitch, and the needles being especially explosive.  We saved any and all of our cardboard for starting the fire. Generally in the deep of winter, we tried to not let the fire go out.

One luxury we had was a snowmobile.  Once a week after freeze-up, which took about 5 weeks, we would head off on Fridays to another island about 10 miles away - Oak Island, MN.  (http://goo.gl/maps/ZCrpG).  There were people, a store, mail, and life!  We would arrive, after traveling about 45 minutes across the frozen lake and through back woods trails, in time for the mail plane, visit with folks, and then have lunch with the store-owners, Buck and Ducky.  It was a great time.  I gave Buck dulcimer lessons, and in return we received lunch, a 6-pack of Olympia beer and a 6-pak of Diet cola!  After about 1pm, we would head back to the island, and stoke up the dwindling fire.  Dark came early, and it was always a challenge to make sure we were ready for the darkness.  That involved having super planned, kerosene lamps cleaned and ready, and water on the stove heating.  

All in all, our chores must have taken at least 6 hours a day, including cooking, washing, and the basics.  When it was generator day, that involved more water being hauled, because those days were also for Russ' photographic work.  He had a darkroom, and would develop and print pictures being readied for the exhibit.  We even had a small TV that we watched the infamous series "Dallas" on, and also took in the Calgary Olympics!  What a great time that was!

And so, back in the winter of 1979-1980, we lived off-grid!  We didn't even realize it, but this would be the beginning of a way of life for us.  We had no high-tech things, but we were comfortable, happy, and thrilled to be living where we could listen to the wolves, listen to beautiful radio broadcasts, find out about the moose and deer, ski across the miles of open water, hike the land where few seldom go, and observe the eagles and otters while they fought for survival.  We learned respect, integration, observation, and independence.  Little did know, but this decision would shape how we viewed the world for the rest of our lives.