History

stagnant water drizzled down the stream leading me into a place that was unpleasantly easy to discover. Slowly walking through the bush, exploring what would mean more to me than I could ever imagine. Suddenly a squirrel, dear or maybe even a bear disturbs the brush behind me. In that instance I am out of the fogy abyss before anything can escalate further.

Once a summer my family would pack up the big white van and make the annual voyage to eagle lake. Eagle Lake was a majestic place filled with underwater boulders and scattered islands. Our days were filled with countless adventures of island hopping and snorkel fishing. Navigating our way through the twisted mass of the leftover glacier deposits, our canoeing abilities were tested.

Discovering life was always an extraordinary event. My brother and I would often take exploration voyages to either Blueberry Island or Rock Island. Both islands are very self-explanatory. We would tow my sister behind us in another canoe. She would take care of feeding the hungry adventurers. Once upon landing on the uncharted territory we would discover such things the likes of us two city boys had never seen. Life was good.

There was one place that I was uneasy about exploring. My brother liked to call it The Abyss. There were many stories floating about, most from my brother. But the stories that really scared me were the epic tales my Dad would speak of. Tales of runaway convicts of a nearby Sanitarium. The infamous tales of Spungoo were the tales that scared me. With the head of a pig and the body of a bear, Spungoo filled my dreams for many years.

One year for my birthday my father purchased me a bb gun on the way up to the lakeside retreat. The gun kept me entertained for days. Shooting at pop cans and bull weeds my aim slowly improved. Eventually my accuracy improved to shooting at ducks by the shoreline. It was all fun and games until my mother