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| The plot of James
Hilton's "Lost Horizons" revolves
around this problem: the hero stumbles across
Shangri La, and then discovers that, if he leaves
this most perfect place, he can never get back.
I'd wager that I'd never make it back to
Saskatchewan's own little Shangri La, Sawyer Lake
- not because it is a mythic place but, rather,
because of my famous sense of direction. |
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| Canoeing on Sawyer Lake |
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| The cabin at Sawyer Lake |
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I'd never find the
single road that leads to David Weiman's Camp
Sawyer Lake, where he promises "your
personal wilderness immersion experience."
Fortunately, David knows that finding and staying
with the road to Sawyer Lake is an adventure in
itself, and his standing advice is to meet at his
house in Preeceville, which we did, so that he
could drive Brittany, me and our gear to the
cabin. |
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Typically, for a
freelance writer, I had been running to fast, working to
hard, trying to rush too many words through my computer,
printer and fax machine, pushing time so that, as usual,
I fled Foam Lake late and rattled. Quick check. Camera.
(Forget everything else, but don't forget the camera and
lots of extra film.) Notebook. Sleeping bag. Extra socks.
My own life jacket. Binoculars. Warm jacket. Long pants -
though David says wood ticks aren't a problem. |
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| Tooth brush and comb.
Pillow. (I happen to not like sleeping flat.) My
favourite comfortable running shoes which I
prefer to hiking boots. Fling everything but
cameras into the direction of a duffel bag, grab
and camera bag, leap into the truck and hit the
road. The hour-long drive to Preeceville was much
to short to wind me down. Park truck at David's,
meet Brittany who is from Yorkton and 22, stow
gear in David's truck, hit the road. |
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| A sapphire lake rimmed with
saskatoons in bloom |
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| Saskatoon Blooms |
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David gave us the
scenic tour, miles of gravel roads dotted with
creeks, little lakes, clouds of saskatoons in
blossom, white veils of chokecherry blossom.
Patiently, he stopped each time I shrieked
"Photo." "This is your
holiday," he said, when I apologized for
requesting the sixteenth stop. To prove that he
truly meant what he said, he offered a side trip
to Hinchliffe to see the osprey. |
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| I think - though don't
quote me - that Hinchliffe was entirely out of
our way to Sawyer Lake. However, David and I had
first met there last year when I was covering an
attempt to save the now-closed Pool grain
elevator which had a thousand-pound osprey nest
on top. When the rescue attempt didn't work - the
elevator is gone - a group of concerned local
people put up three nesting towers with some of
the old nesting material in each one. There were
at least three osprey - far from their usual
seacoast habitat - and I was pleased to see them
happily settled into their new homes. |
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| The Hinchliffe nesting tower
and one of the resident osprey |
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