On the lake Photo by Stephen Renegold

Camp chores

Working with the canvas tent, which Stromberg referred to as a prospector-style tent, was the most interesting part of the trip for me. These shelters, which are still made by the 120-year-old company Woods Canada, let you quickly set up an oasis of warmth in an otherwise cold, snowy world. Without such structures, the trappers, explorers and mining prospectors of the past would have lived a very uncomfortable existence in this region.

When we arrived at the camp on Friday night after the 22-kilometer ski, the wind was blowing and we were exhausted. It was after dark and our tent was on the ground folded up next to some pine logs.

Jumping up and down to stay warm, I followed orders and tied cord around trees, heaved log poles into place and kicked snow around the bottom edges of the canvas to seal off the tent from wind. Stromberg unpacked the barrel-shape wood-burning stove and fitted sections of chimney together.

Everyone was required to pitch in at camp. After an hour working on the tent, we chopped wood, chipped a hole in the lake ice to get drinking water, and retrieved stones from under the snow for use in the tent with the stove. But no one minded. It was actually a blast getting our hands dirty and learning how the people of this region survived the long winter months before civilization moved in.

After two hours of set-up chores, we were inside the tent sitting next to the stove and waiting for a pot of water to heat. The interior space was huge, measuring 12 x 14 feet with a 7.5-foot sloped ceiling. The four members of our group could stretch out, walk around, organize gear, cook, and wash dishes without interfering with one another. There was so much space that we moved the woodpile inside by the stove so we wouldn't have to step out into the snow to get logs.

Later in the evening, as the stove roared, I hung up a small thermometer in the middle of the tent. I was amazed to see the mercury at 55 degrees Fahrenheit, as it was below zero just a couple inches away on the other side of the canvas.

While regular winter camping can be tolerable with the right gear, I've found it more often to be cold and somewhat miserable, especially if my clothing is damp from the day's ski. Not so in this tent. We added some big logs to the stove before bed and slept comfortably just inches away on soft air mattresses. Our wet mitts and long johns hung above, drying all night long on a clothesline. And if we felt like going out for some late night stargazing, we could stand up straight and easily put our boots and jackets back on without disturbing our snoozing tent buddies.

The trip in general was a strange mix of pain and pleasure, modern and primitive. Long ski trips during the day in cold temps and harsh winds were balanced by warm, quiet nights around the wood-burning stove. We had to chip through lake ice to get water, but once it was in the kettle we could have hot coffee in minutes. These simple touches of civilization felt luxurious within Quetico's wild, remote backdrop.