Thurston and I just returned home after 10 days in Alaska.  Every breathtaking view reminded us that we already have a place that stirs the same sense of wonder.  Awanabatch isn’t ours alone, but every visit lets us unplug from the rest of the world.  It feels like returning to a place that’s become part of who we are.    

In Alaska we were two of more than 4,700 people on a cruise ship. At Awanabatch, we can spend an afternoon without seeing another soul. Somewhere between the first verse of Gordon Lightfoot’s The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and the last, I’m no longer riding in a pontoon. I’m a weary fur trader crossing these same waters, wondering what waits beyond the next point.   

One of the best things about Awanabatch is that it sits at the doorstep of adventure. From the dock, we can head in any direction.  Up the river or across Lake Superior; but for reasons none of us can explain, the family has always spent most of its time exploring the north side of Batchawana Island.

Looking to expand my explorer fantasy, I convinced Thurston to take a walk on the wild  side – of the Island.  It was time to see what was around the next point.   

It was there that we were welcomed by a pair of eagles perched high up in the trees.  Then a unique rock formation on the island’s edge that teased us by looking like a bear.  It wasn’t, but it drew us in even closer to get a better look.  From there, we could see a tiny waterfall trickling into the Lake. 

We soon found ourselves in very shallow water.  Beneath us, large boulders as large as cars began to show through the cool, clear blue water. Creating what appears to look like a long-lost road to a land now covered by water.  Of course, that all might just be my imagination, but that’s what comes to mind when you see it.

Carefully making our way through the shallow area, we started to see the rock formations changing to a variegated floor of red and white sand stones.  Huge slabs of colorful rock.  I climbed out just so I could run my hand across what looked like giant pieces of pumice.  Even more, I couldn’t wait to share this incredible spot with my fellow rock-hound friends. Apparently, I’ve turned into a rock nerd.

Anyone listening to me ramble about the sandstone colors and layers would’ve assumed I’d recently discovered something besides rocks…perhaps a dispensary.  

People who knew Thurston before we met often joke that he’d probably still be on the farm if it weren’t for me. They might be onto something. We’ve wandered through Europe, cruised Alaska and now spend our summers wondering what’s around the next point on Batchawana Island. The funny thing is, after all these adventures, I still get the biggest smile when he says, “Let’s see what’s over there.” 

That’s why we love Awanabatch so much. It still gives us permission to wander.   To imagine.  To believe there’s always something waiting just around the next bend.  We’re still willing to turn the boat toward the unknown instead of heading back to the dock. It makes us feel young. 

Turns out I never needed to be a fur trader to satisfy my urge to explore. I just needed to marry someone willing to drive the boat toward the next bend with me.   Willing to be adventurous.