The Reminder is making its archives back to 2003 available on our website. Please note that, due to technical limitations, archive articles are presented without the usual formatting.
The Reminder is pleased to publish this article, written by Patricia Forster (Premachuk), which originally appeared in the July-August 2010 edition of our sister magazine, Cottage North. **** Sadly, we lost my brother, Paul, last year. A few months ago, at a mass celebrating his life, my dad spoke about how he would often find Paul, as a boy of eight or nine years old, on the back yard rink on Parkway Blvd. early in the morning or late at night. Dad would see Paul flooding the ice, scraping it, patching it. When Dad would ask him what he was doing, Paul would always reply that he was 'smoothing the ice.' Paul went on to build back yard rinks every year for his own children, in Ottawa. And when he moved to Texas, he became the coach of three hockey teams in a city where hockey was an emerging sport. Paul devoted his life to 'smoothing the ice' for the many kids with whom he played hockey on the back yard rink, to whom he taught hockey, and who he coached. As I thought about the 'great outdoors' of Flin Flon and how to celebrate in words the impact it had on its citizens, I realized that growing up here gave all of us skills and experiences which 'smoothed the ice' as we grew to adulthood and forged our way through life. So rather than one particular experience, I celebrate the many lessons learned by living in the great outdoors. We learned to be hardy as we trudged to school in 20-below zero winters, bundled up against the biting cold in layers of sweaters, leggings, snow pants, multiple pairs of socks in our snow boots, and scarves covering our faces, allowing only enough skin to be exposed to help us to breathe. Slog Through School buses were not anything we ever experienced. Rather, it was just the norm to slog through the snow with the chilled air nipping at us. We learned to be infinitely patient, as we sat by a creek or on a lake waiting for fish to bite. With the summer sun beating down, and the mosquitoes mercilessly swarming around us, we would wait and wait with joyous anticipation of what just might tug at our line if we were able to just exercise a little patience. You had to develop a sense of humour about what the outdoors could unexpectedly bring. I recall celebrating a birthday in late June at Phantom Lake, the family carting the wieners, buns, cans of beans, plastic table coverings and cutlery to one of the fire pits.....only to have snow begin to fall on our outdoor birthday picnic. We had the choice of laughing, or complaining about what nature was doing to us. We laughed, and would do so on many more occasions when the outdoors would bring a surprise to us. We learned to adapt when we would be hauled off to a cabin at Big Island, where we would initially whine about using an outhouse, or having to cook on a wood stove, or help our mom wash diapers in the lake. But adapt we did, keeping those long ago summers as a treasured memory, and bringing our own children back to Flin Flon to experience a cabin summer. Learning to quickly develop cooperation was another skill we mastered as we tried for the first time to paddle a canoe at Denare Beach. The arguing about who was doing it correctly and who wasn't pulling their weight always gave way to compromising, and eventually arriving at the destination. How courageous we had to be to face the possibility of leeches that were surely waiting for us as we stepped cautiously into the lakes! Yet, we persevered, wanting so much to luxuriate in the water. And if we actually were unfortunate enough to exit the water with black creatures clinging to our bodies, we had to delve into our souls to find extra courage as our moms used precious salt to extract the leeches from our legs, arms, and tummies. We developed a sense of exploration looking for gold in the area, finding iron pyrite and being so sure that we were picking up glittering pieces of a precious rock. How exciting it was to bring it home, certain that we had found something that would make us millionaires! I recently found such a stone while walking along the Perimeter Highway and have sent it back east to my three-year-old granddaughter, who will surely believe that 'Grandma' has sent her a treasure! See 'Look' on pg. Continued from pg. Picking blueberries on the 'high rocks' developed in us a keen eye, teaching us to really look hard to find what we were seeking, as we reached under bushes to gently roll the blue orbs into our hands and p ails. (We also learned quickly that we had to share, and NOT invade someone else's patch!) We learned determination as we waited at the bottom of Third Avenue Hill, watching cars attempting to make it up the slippery, wintery slope, one at a time. In life, we often have to take things slowly and steadily, and I have such clear memories of being at the base of the hill, breathlessly waiting for the car ahead to ascend, watching the exhaust flow from the back of the tailpipes in white billows. Often the car would make it part way up and begin to slide backwards. But in the end the summit was usually achieved. In life we have all had those experiences. Skating at the bunk at Willowvale and later sitting exhaustedly on the benches by the fire in the little stove taught us that there indeed was warmth and relief at the end of a cold day. The heat burning your face, the aching feet being warmed by a fire, the smell of rubber and damp socks in the bunkhouse...all of these things assured us that there indeed was a happy relief and warmth in the company of friends, and laughter. We learned to appreciate the culture of others, as we stood in awe watching the Natives at Beaver Lake Days as they sawed logs, packed flour, and made bannock. The smell of burning wood smoke, the sounds of the fiddles and the stomping of the jiggers combined to make us a little more aware of those who had come before us to this land. We learned to appreciate the wonder of nature as we heard the mournful cry of loons carry across the lakes surrounding us. The longing for home is never brought back so clearly as when one hears a loon in another far off place. It always reminds native Flin Flonners of nature, and of home. And seeing the Northern Lights, no matter what our age, reminded us of the infinite beauty and vastness of the universe. We came to realize that, as mighty as we thought we were, there were things in life that were just much bigger and more important than we were. It was truly humbling. What better life lessons could we have been given? We were lucky to have lived in a place that, due to its geographical location and doorway to the great outdoors, provided us with the opportunity to take on qualities that would serve us for the rest of our lives. How better to approach life than with hardiness, patience, a sense of humour, adaptability, cooperation with others, courage, a desire to explore, the ability to really look at things around us, sharing, determination, a celebration of the culture of others, an appreciation of the beauty and wonder of nature, and always knowing that there was warmth from those who provided the fire in our lives? Those of us who grew up in Flin Flon have had a very unique experience and have learned many, many lessons from the outdoors. These lessons have shaped our lives for always. On the back yard rink, when the ice has been smoothed, it is a little easier to skate, handle the puck, make plays, and even be successful once in awhile at scoring a goal. Just as Paul always wanted to smooth the ice to make things a little easier, so too has growing up here and experiencing the outdoors of Flin Flon smoothed the ice for us. It has given to us the qualities which make it just a little easier to live life, interact with others, and find happiness in the world around us. Although many of us left the area, we took with us all of the things we learned by experiencing the great outdoors of Flin Flon. These lessons have smoothed the ice for me, and certainly for all of us. And this gives us cause to celebrate. (For Paul, who knew how to smooth the ice).
