Laurie Snider
Notes from the Nest
About an hour north of here, up County Rd. 41, is one of the prettiest places in Ontario. Bon Echo was named by Mrs. Weston Price, in the early 1900s, because of it’s dramatic echo. At the time the second growth forest around the rock wasn’t well established, leaving more exposed rock for sounds to reverberate from. She chose “Bon” the French form for “good,” lending a more ostentatious feel to the name.
After billions of years of geographical heaving, hauling, hefting and hurling, with a couple of ice ages thrown in for good measure, Mazinaw Lake filled with glacial melt water and the 1.5-km cliff, which rises 100 m above the water were formed. With its picturesque landscape and unique ecosystem, it’s been a beacon for admirers for centuries.
Indigenous peoples traveled here frequently, as it was regarded as an entryway to the spirit world. It was thought of as home of the Manitous, where the four different spirit worlds converged: Earth, sky, water and underworld.
Medicine men and their students used the sacred space for vision quests and are thought to be responsible for the over 250 pictographs painted, using hematite, on the face of the rock.
Nanabush, with his oversized canoe paddle ears, also known as Rabbit man, is the most famous of these. He was chosen by Kitchu Manitou, the Great Spirit, to teach humans how to use all of his creations.
Each summer for the past 30 years, Randy and I, with the kids in tow at times, have paddled past this spiritual masterpiece. It never fails to move me. To be within inches of the same place that so many before us, in years gone by, have marked with patterns, figures and symbols to guide and communicate, leaves me feeling reflective and reverent.
These feelings have been shared by many enthusiasts of all manor of the arts, from painters, musicians, photographers, writers, to thespians. Many of the Group of Seven spent a good deal of time there being charmed and inspired by the breadth and grandeur of the rock, painting their emotions onto canvas.
In 1899 Dr Weston Price, a Cleveland dentist, formerly from Newburgh and his new wife honeymooned there. They were so in love with the area, they purchased the property and built an inn, which they completed in 1901. It was three storeys, with 28 rooms, five cottages, a staff house and service buildings. They built it as a retreat for city dwellers longing to spend time in the great outdoors.
In 1910, the inn was purchased by Flora McDonald and her husband Harold Denison. Flora was born in a cabin on the Skootamata River. She eventually became a journalist in Detroit, where she met her husband and had a son Merrill. Flora was a feminist and was greatly responsible for women getting the vote in Ontario and New York State. She was also a lover of the arts and devoted fan of poet Walt Whitman.
Flora so admired his democratic ideals, that in 1919 she hired stone masons from Scotland, to chisel a few lines from Whitman’s poem, “Song of Myself,” into the face of the rock. After she died in 1921, of pneumonia, at the age of 54, the inn was taken over by her son and his wife Muriel. They ran it until 1929 when it closed for financial reasons. In 1936, after being struck by lightning, the inn burned down.
In 1959, after leasing the land to several different groups for years, Merrill transferred ownership of the land to the Ontario Department of Lands and Forests, to preserve it from being developed. In 1965, Bon Echo Provincial Park was officially opened. Merrill continued to use Dollywood, one of the remaining cottages, (now used as the visitors centre), for his personal use, until his death in 1975.
Gratefully, because of the generosity of the Denison family, thousands of visitors each year are drawn to this spectacular park, to swim in the clear, clean waters, hike the many trails, sun on the beaches, climb the rock with the Alpine club, and camp in its forests.
It’s a family favourite for us. We’ve camped there each summer for years and once Randy and I stayed in the Cabin on the Hill as a peaceful retreat. The kids learned to ride bikes there and together we’ve traipsed down its many paths. We’ve taken the Mugwump ferry to the Rock, climbing to the top, to enjoy the breathtaking vista below, as the deep, blue lake spread out before us.
We’re no different then many of those who’ve come here before us, captivated by the dazzling beauty and solemnity of such a majestic place, that we’re blessed to have so close to home. Certainly, that’s Bon.