Remote - ly Resort Living

I couldn't resist using the title. Elizabeth, editor of the Island Park News, suggested it, for an article I recently submitted.

Of course, our style of life doesn't appeal to everyone. It doesn't always appeal to us! However, most people really don't see the 'real picture' when they conceive of what it is like to run a resort this far off the beaten path. I think most have a bit of a rose-colored view of our lives.

They're aren't so unusual. Not when you think about it. After all, how many times do we think, "Now, if I could have a job like that . . ." or "If I could live there, I'd. . . "

Often reality is not exactly what we're perceiving. Take our resort. I can't count the times I've been asked, "What's it like living here?" I can't tell you how many women have said, "I could NEVER live here." I couldn't begin to guess how many men have said to my husband, "I wish I could live here." (with a wistful look clouding their eyes and fuzzing their otherwise clear heads)

Reality - well, reality can be wonderful. However, it is always mixed with, well, with reality! Take the trip to the store last week.

It doesn't sound like much. 27 miles. Shoot. Lots of people drive that far to work every day. No big deal. Right? Wrong!

For us, that 27 miles means 18 miles via snowmobile hauling a cargo trailer. The final 9 miles are the easy part. Even with nasty, slick, snow-covered roads, it's a piece of cake compared to what the first 18 miles can throw at you.

Don't get me wrong. That first 18 miles can be the BEST part of the trip - hands down. After all, who else gets to zoom along at 25 - 55 (or more) mph, jumping over hillocks, zooming up hills, flying across frozen lakes? But, add in a foot or so of fresh snow, a hearty wind, and a trail no one else has dared yet traverse - then add in a big snowmobile (has to be, it gets to haul in several hundred pounds with each load) and a cargo trailer to add 'spice'. Then you're starting to get the real picture.

So, out he goes, my trusty hubby, to get the supplies. He left early to avoid traveling in the dark. Dark, blowing snow, a load of supplies often equals YUK! STUCK! or WORSE!

Anyway, he heads down the trail. About 1/2 an hour later I get a call. (He calls me from the truck, but that is usually 45 minutes later. So I'm wondering?) "I'm going to be awhile," he says.

"I'm stuck. Bad!"

Seems the wind had crafted an nasty side hill with a nice cornice on top and a deep ditch to the inside. To a good rider on a powder sled, this translates into 'fun'. To a good rider on a power sled with a trailer in tow, this translates into 'Uh, Oh!' So, he takes the only safe alternative - the ditch.

Seemed like a good idea until he found the wind had curved that hillside and cornice around. Thus the end had a wonderful 5 foot straight up wall. No problem. He's on a power sled. Right?

Right! But he's towing a trailer. Translate this into "STUCK!" "BAD!" An hour, many gallons of sweat, and bucket loads of frustration later, he calls me. "I'm out!"

To add insult to injury, he got stuck again coming back. However, God was gracious. This time it only took 15 minutes to free himself.

Consider that when you next head to the store. And, if you'd like to read a bit more on our lives here at Elk Lake (in good fun and a bit tongue in cheek, of course), check out the article the kind editor of Island Park News posted this week.

Lady of the Lake

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