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| Rising Mountain National Park |
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| Great decor at The Aristocrat |
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| Lunch is ready in five! |
On our way towards Ontario, we passed the longitudinal centre of Canada – just east of Winnipeg. We’re halfway across the country, but barely one-twelfth of the way through our year-long trip!
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| Halfway across Canada! |
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| The lonely highway |
Highway 39 is a lonely stretch of highway running east-west, close to the 50th parallel in northern Manitoba. Starting near Grass River Provincial Park, about a two-hour drive north of The Pas, Highway 39 runs for 164km to Ponton. In Ponton, Highway 39 ends, but the road continues northeast as Highway 6, which eventually leads you to the small mining town of Thompson. The road runs out in Thompson, but you can take a 16-hour train ride to Churchill on the edge of the great Hudson Bay.
We did not get that far, but it felt like it as we drove the long stretch of Highway 39 with only a few cars passing us. Gazing out the (bug covered) windows at the flat, boreal landscape with nothing but jack pine and tamarack trees zooming by, it seemed like we were heading to the end of the earth.
My father was born and raised in the long-abandoned gold mining town of Herb Lake (or as the locals still call it, Herbtown). To get to Herb Lake, you must drive about 120km along Highway 39 to the ghost town of Wekusko, then turn north and travel another 20km or so along a gravel road to the small community of Herb Lake Landing. From there, if you want to visit the ghost town of Herb Lake, you will either need a boat in the summer, or a snowmobile in the winter.
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| The dirt road into Herb Lake Landing |
We didn’t go to Herb Lake, either. My father’s only living sibling, my uncle, lived at the end of the road at Herb Lake Landing for years, and my grandparents lived up the road. My aunt and her husband lived there, too. They all moved to The Landing from Herbtown after the mines shut down in the mid-1950’s and the town died. My grandparents are long gone, and so are my aunt and her husband. My uncle no longer lives in Herb Lake Landing, but my cousin (his daughter) now lives in the home my uncle built - not far from the house my grandfather built. My family’s blood runs deep in these woods.
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| Sunset on Wekusko (Herb) Lake |
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| A feast on the balcony |
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| Another view of the lake |
D and I spent several days visiting the family at Herb Lake Landing. The bugs weren’t as bad there as at Clearwater Lake and the weather was pleasant, which allowed for long afternoons sitting on the patio overlooking Wekusko (the Cree word for Herb) Lake and long walks to visit family friends in the community. I even wandered through my grandparent’s old home, which has sat empty for years.
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| My grandparents cottage |
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| On the inside, much as I remember |
Sadly, my cousin has decided to sell the home my uncle built after this summer is over. She and her husband are moving closer to Winnipeg, to a town that her brother and her parents (my uncle and aunt) have all moved to. And the house my grandfather built? I've been told that my aunt’s son (who owns the property the house sits on) plans to tear it down, as it is full of asbestos and cannot be renovated for habitation.
So many endings.
The last of the twilight on Clearwater Lake - at midnight!
The last time I was in northern Manitoba to visit family in the summertime, I was just a young girl of maybe six. I recall swimming in Herb Lake, where my grandparents lived, and not wanting to get out of the water for fear the horseflies would eat me alive as I ran toward the cabin to safety.
Memories from your childhood tend to get skewered as an adult. Just ask any sibling, and you’ll get a different version of a story from them, compared to the way you remember it. Everything becomes much bigger – the sky is wider and so much bluer in your memories from childhood. The fish are bigger and easier to catch. The bugs are as big as birds and take giant chunks out of your skin…
Well, I realized on this visit that the bugs really are as big as I remember, and just as nasty. And they were EVERYWHERE!
We stopped in The Pas to get fuel before heading out to visit my cousin at Clearwater Lake. D tried to clear off the bugs from the front grill, but the layer of meat was much too thick for the gas station squeegee, so he gave up. Little did he know, but we were in for more anyway.
Upon arriving at my cousin’s house, a short drive north of The Pas, we got out of the van and were immediately bombarded by mosquitoes and midges. By nightfall, our light-coloured van had turned black with all manner of flying insects trying to find any crack to get inside. D spent a good 45 minutes that night, slaughtering the ones that managed to sneak in. Just thinking of it all still gives me the heebie jeebies.
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| Look closely - it's not raining, it's swarming bugs! |
Despite the bugs, the visit with my cousin and her partner was wonderful as we caught up on the years that had passed since we’d last seen each other. Another cousin and his wife also came over – they just live across the lake – and the six of us enjoyed a lovely dinner of fresh lake trout on the barbecue, a wild rice casserole that was to die for, then sat outside in the covered veranda and watched the sun finally set… at 10:45pm! Life in the north is lovely (except for the damn bugs).
