Chapter 5 – Getaway
Grace was surprised and glad to see the Trail hadn’t changed much since she’d last been up it.
Jim said there was internet all the way to the end, but no cell phone service as far up as his resort, called Getaway Lodge, but soon.
They passed the big lumber mill on the right and a few houses.
They drove under the Guardians, a stand of old white pines that for many marked the beginning of the Trail.
Sure enough, the trees got thicker, the road seemed to narrow and get hillier, and lakes began to appear. Grace smiled.
“So, what do you plan to do while you’re up here? Could be a while. You said on the phone you were looking for a place to work through the pandemic.”
“Yes. I’m a journalist. I still have a job at a small newspaper at home. What’s the internet situation in the lodge?”
“No problem. We have workspaces set up. And there are three units over the lodge that have internet. They’re booked at the moment, but who knows? People usually come for the wilderness, canoe trips, and fishing. Now I’m getting calls for a safe place to work remotely.”
“Exactly. That’s me — my job and doing research on the mining projects.”
“Well, we’ve got you covered.” He smiled.
“Now let me tell you about the cabin I have in mind, because it’s a little different.
” He glanced over at Grace, who looked back with concern.
“Not to worry. I would never put a guest in any place uncomfortable or unsafe. In fact, I didn’t give it a second thought.
I think it’s the perfect solution if all our reservations hold, which is iffy, but Nan said I was taking too much for granted, that it might not suit you.
Getaway is on a peninsula. This cabin’s on the point, beyond the lodge and our other cabins.
Nan and I bought it a few years ago when the owner mentioned selling.
We’ve fixed it up some. It needs more — that’s Nan’s problem with it — it’s a work in progress .
. . but it’s livable. It’s got a small kitchen area, and we just modernized the indoor plumbing.
It’s one big room, like a studio apartment.
All the basics are in place, but the finishing touches aren’t there yet.
If you’re uncomfortable when you see it, you can stay in our guest room till something opens up, or I can call around to other resorts. What do you think?”
“How far is it from the lodge?”
“Oh . . . about a quarter mile, and four of our cabins are spaced between it and the lodge.”
“Do y’all have any crime up here?”
“Not to speak of. Some off-season break-ins of summer residences, but those of us who’re year-round keep an eye on empty cabins. It’s mostly kids looking for alcohol.”
“Is the rental rate on a par with the other cabins?”
“No. Nan and I’ve talked about this. It’ll eventually rent for more than the others because of its location, but not until the improvements are completed, including the road and maybe a small dock.
For now, maybe this whole season, it’ll rent for less, and we’ll throw in whatever kind of watercraft you want.
You will have to put up with our helper, Billy, coming over to work on projects when I can spare him, but he’s a nice college kid.
Polite and respectful. He’d work between 9:00 and 5:00 weekdays.
“Well, obviously the road is not a concern for me, but what’s the problem with it?”
“Just rough. Not properly maintained for years. Ruts and washouts. You’ll see soon. It’s not car-ready, but a truck can do it.”
“I’ll keep an open mind.”
“That’s about what I told Nan you’d say.”
*******
They came around a bend in the road, and Gunflint Lake stretched as far as Grace could see, with the Canadian border almost down the middle.
So many memories. Too many. Not now. She couldn’t now.
Sometimes she did wonder when? When would she not be sad .
. . not have feelings she didn’t want to feel?
A few tears escaped but she kept herself in check.
She’d gotten good at that . . . most of the time.
It helped that Jim kept telling her funny stories about guests learning to clean fish, guests tipping canoes, and guests discovering they had no cell phone service.
They stopped in front of a rustic, two-story lodge, the lake with a dock and boats to the right, and two A-frame cabins on the hill to the left.
Grace’s hand was on the door handle before the truck came to a stop.
She opened the door and jumped down, smiling under her mask.
With no trouble, she removed one side of it and took a deep breath.
A blonde, muscled, young man in a Getaway Lodge t-shirt was striding up the hill from one of several small buildings near the dock. He looked at Grace. “Hi! You must be Grace. I’m Billy, the boat guy, among other things.” He laughed and stuck out his hand.
“Hi, Billy! I’m not shaking hands till I know I’m Covid-free, but, yes, I’m Grace. Nice to meet you.”
“I’m supposed to help settle you into the point cabin, but first I gotta unload this truck. Shouldn’t take long.”
Jim came around the back of the truck. “Good. You two have met. Grace, I know Nan’s wanting to meet you, so let’s go inside while Billy unloads.
” He turned to Billy. “Grace has the suitcase, the backpack, and the groceries on the right, so just leave those in. We’ll drive her down when you get finished.
Oh, and I know there’s an extra grill around back.
Could you get that, some charcoal, and lighter fluid? ”
“Yes sir.”
“Grace, after you.” Jim gestured toward the front door.
Grace looped the mask back over her ear, Jim held the door, and she walked through the mudroom into the lodge and a delicious cloud of holiday baking memories!
Gingerbread? A massive stone fireplace. Birch furniture.
Rugs. Vibrant, primary colors. Shelves packed with books and games.
A long picture window to the right, flanked by comfortable chairs overlooking a stone terrace and the lake.
The perfect Northwoods lodge. Nan was coming toward them from the dining room, through the sofas and easy chairs grouped in front of the fireplace.
There was a young woman following her with a thick side braid of light blonde hair.
“Grace, we’re so happy to have you! Welcome to Getaway! This is my right arm for the season, Kirsten.”
“I’m happy to be here. Nice to meet both of you.”
Jim looked at Nan. “Billy and I are going to give Grace a look at the cabin. She’s been on a roller coaster lately and needs some peace and quiet. Thought you might want to come.”
“I do. Kirsten can hold down the fort for a while.” She turned to Kirsten. “We won’t be long. When the timer goes off, take the gingerbread men out of the oven, put the buttons on the next batch, and put them in.” Kirsten nodded.
“Christmas in May?” Grace asked, as they walked to the door.
“Families with children. Gingerbread smells like holidays, right? Puts everybody in a good mood.”
They climbed in the truck — Jim, Nan, Billy, and Grace — and headed down the road, which proved to have its share of ruts and bumps, but nothing a truck couldn’t handle.
The forested space between the road and the water narrowed as they neared the end of the peninsula, until they could see water on both sides through the trees.
Keeping both hands on the steering wheel, Jim said, “Billy, you did a great job with the underbrush along here. We can see just enough lakeshore.”
“Thanks. I didn’t want to neaten up Mother Nature too much. People come up here for the wilderness.”
“Definitely. Never want to lose sight of that.”
The road ended at a log cabin, the peninsular point just beyond it.
Once the truck stopped, Grace could hardly hold herself back from running through the trees and finding a way down to the lake, but she knew she had to see the cabin and make a decision.
The old, rectangular cabin sat among mature birches, tall pines, and spiraling spruces as if it had always been there, on the rock backbone of the peninsula, about a hundred feet from the water on three sides.
The logs were newly cleaned, chinked, and stained a dark red brown with an almost matching metal pitched roof.
The windows on this end were up high and small, though Grace could see bigger ones up the long side, beyond the chimney pipe.
The far side of the cabin sported a new addition, a screened porch.
Jim pulled up to the near end of the cabin, and they got out.
“Let’s let Grace size up the place before we unload anything.
This way Grace.” Jim led off to the unpainted screened door that opened onto the still empty porch that faced south to the lake.
Grace went straight to the view, her sandals echoing on the new wood floor, her nose registering the smell of new lumber.
“Wow. This is amazing!” She just stared. The lake was narrow down here at the west end, less than a mile across, but seven miles long.
As they entered the cabin, they saw Billy measuring a space in the kitchen area to the right. “I could put a couple shelves in here today — food, cans and stuff,” he said, looking at Grace as she walked in. “If you like the place.”
Grace was pretty sure she liked the place the instant she stepped on the porch, but she wasn’t going to say anything till the tour was over. She nodded at Billy, then turned to Jim. “Where’s that indoor plumbing?”
“Follow me.” Jim led toward a curtained area to their left.
“The heavy curtains are a temporary solution till Billy puts up walls.” He pulled back a split in the curtains.
In front of them was a mirror and sink, with a cabinet underneath.
The spaces to the left and right of the sink were hung with curtains, too.
Jim pulled them back to reveal a closet to the left and a bathroom to the right.
“Well, it’s all there.” Grace laughed and turned around. “Where does that door go?” She started walking across the cabin to an exterior door between the dining table and the kitchen alcove.
“That’s the side porch. It’s small.” Jim followed her and they went out.
There was a short clothesline, a water heater, and a metal bucket with a small shovel.
“Do you need a lesson in woodstovery? You should keep a stack of wood out here, so you don’t have to go out at night.
There’s all kinds of wildlife, including cats and bears.
If you like the cabin, I’ll send Billy back down to put up those kitchen shelves and teach you about woodstoves. What do you think? Can you rough it?”
Grace laughed. “Yes, I like it very much. We have a deal.” They bumped elbows.