The area around Loon Lake, Saskatchewan has been a prominent part of my life ever since I arrived there in the fall of 1946, to be the teacher of Kellet School, located a few miles south of the village. Actually, it had seemed a place of pioneering adventure from my childhood days in the “dirty thirties”.

My eldest brother, Vern, had gone there with the Trimble family, to the bush country,  to escape the hard times on the prairies  and had taken up homesteads. Vern came back and told many out-landish stories of his experiences, many not very encouraging for us to follow to a life near Loon Lake. He told about the horrible mosquitoes; a story that went something like this.

“Once I was attacked by a great swarm of those huge creatures, so bad that I took up the bathtub and took shelter under it but in no time at all those giant suckers beaks started drilling right through that metal tub, reaching down to get me. I happened to find a stone and used it to pound those beaks back. And you know, I had riveted those beaks and there were so many of them that they flew away with my tub; and there I lay curled up and fulling exposed and in terrible misery. Those suckers took out all of my blood.”

Completely in awe we asked, “Well, what did you do?” With total seriousness he replied, “I died, of course!”. After Vern gave up homesteading at Loon Lake we asked him why he left. He said his land was all muskeg and you could jump up and down on one corner and shake the whole quarter section: good for hunting but not for farming.

During my term of teaching there, I was much attracted to the many lakes where, at that time, there was only one minimal resort at Makwa Lake tip just west of the village. One evening Jack Read and I got aboard my motorcycle with two oars under our arms and headed down the trail to the east shore of Little Jumbo Lake, where Jack knew of a boat tied up that we could use to go out fishing.

It was total wilderness then and fish were plentiful. We carried just a hook and lines, no rods or other gear, and cast out by a swing of the arm. We were the only ones on the lake. It was so peaceful, and the catch was rewarding. But somebody must have seen us use that boat, because the next day that boat was missing. The RCMP questioned us when being suspected of the boats theft – really – with a motorcycle!

I was courting Dorothy at that time so took the Maybelle School the next term and boarded with Bee and Art Vandenberg where Bee could help me with my university courses and I being closer to Dorothy. I chummed with her brother “Willy” and we made trips north to Muckingham Lake and Loon Lake to fish. From 1946 I never once missed at least one trip a year to Loon Lake, so have a good evaluation of how it has changed over the years.

After marriage and with children, we, many times, took our little home-made trailer and headed to Loon Lake. At that time our favorite camp spot was at Mewasin’s natural, sandy beach. At first we would go from the village down the (never completed) railway grade, go off at the drop across the ditch, on through a cleared route through the bush and be the only campers there. That is where Dorothy really absorbed the Native feeling and claimed that is where she wished to be after death, placed up in those beautiful clumps of Birch trees like the Native people of old. That is why we have a birchbark urn in which to bury our ashes when mine will be joined with hers.

I was always intrigued by the circle of lakes situated in that area and after some years, did manage to take advantage of the adventure of canoeing the route. While camping at Mewasin, one morning I and my boys, with two canoes, paddled up the west shore of Big Jumbo to the short portage into Tullibee Lakes, through them idling and fishing to arrive at Steele Narrows to camp.  Dorothy and others had driven there to set up tent, shared a campfire evening and then we canoers slept over.

We were up before dawn and had reached the narrows at the north end off Upper Makwa as the sun rose and the fog lifted off the tall reeds in the water. The course of the water birds, croaking of frogs, occasional splash of a fish, the rays of sun through the rising fog, was well worth the time to lay down our paddles and just quietly enjoy that unforgettable experience.

Then there was a long stretch of steady paddling to go along the south shore of Makwa Lake. Fortunately, there was little wind which can cause troublesome waves on that lake. We finally reached the channel to go under the bridge into Little Jumbo and through narrows again into Big Jumbo and back to Mewasin.

As time passed and I became responsible for National Historic Sites, I encouraged the Historic Sites and Monuments Board to mark sites associated with major events of the troubles in the west in 1885. One of those sites was where Steele’s Scouts caught up to Big Bear’s fleeing band at what has since been called “Steele Narrows”.

A couple of local fellows, Art Stabler and Gene Panian, had been studying and promoting the history of the area. I explored, along with Art Stabler, along Big Bear’s Trail from Steele Narrows, around the eastern shore of Upper Makwa Lake,  and onto the height, on the island, where Art thought the holes there might be rife pits prepared by Big Bear’s Band. But I was quite in doubt. That is where General Middleton gave up pursuit because in his words of “the impregnable morass”, much to Sam Stelle’s disgust. 

I went with Art to the spot on Big Bear’s Trail west of what is now Pine Cove to where the Band did prepare another defensive ground expecting the troops to follow. There on the map you see a sharp change of direction in the trail. Scouts did follow, but finally gave up when the Band dispersed and melted away into the northern woods.

Then, later again, with local and Provincial help, we were able to develop an interpretive site, marking the features and preservation of the look out hill, (Highways had been threatening to use it for road fill at the narrows), and put up a Federal monument with plaque.  The official opening and unveiling of the plaque which I arranged, was well attended by locals, school children and dignitaries. It now has become a very popular boat launching site to go fishing in Upper Makwa Lake, well cared for by the Saskatchewan Parks people.

I talked with Art Stabler about the development of a new campground and beach on Little Jumbo Lake. This was one of his most enthusiastic, pet projects and he was very adamant that it must present a winding route as part of the wilderness experience. The campground and point now honors his effort with his name and attracts so many people, with big, modern trailers, that for me, it has lost all of its wilderness appeal.

A couple of years ago there was a Tatro gathering at Steele Narrows, when I sat in a chair on the steps that go up the hill and gave about an hour talk on the events associated with the site.

Of course, there are side issues that are a result of such long association – two of my children acquired spouses from the Loon Lake area, Peggi Sitter for Richard and Dale Lindstrom for Gwen. Peggi left Loon Lake when her parents moved away. Gwen, on the other hand, took up residence on the Lindstrom farm, about five miles southeast of the village. She became the librarian of Ernie Studer School and became quite a prominent citizen of the area. Visits back to see her continue to keep me in touch with one of my most favorite haunts.