Ooh-la-la Hecla

March 5th, 2010 | Posted by Jacquie Crone
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Friday Feb. 26, 2010

The car is pointing north and we’re aiming for Hecla/Grindstone Provincial Park and the Radisson Hecla Oasis Resort.

Hecla Island is on the west side of Lake Winnipeg, north of Gimli. It you follow PTH 8 to its terminus you’ll find it. The Island was designated as a provincial park in 1969 and the name refers to one of Iceland’s famous landmarks, Mount Hekla the volcano. Interestingly, the original Icelandic settlers, who arrived here in 1876, called the island Mikley.

My partner Eric and I left Winnipeg in the early afternoon; the landscape a study in dull, monotone grey. PTH 8 must have been an engineer’s dream come true, straight – so-o straight. You can almost drive the 200 kms with no hands.

A causeway connects Hecla Island to the mainland (another engineering marvel). In summer the marsh is a terrific birding area and a choice location to see one of the island’s diminishing numbers of moose (currently 30 or so). We took the alternate route to follow the Hecla Village Scenic Drive, a 7 km road winding along the lakeshore. I notice that there are quite a number of newer seasonal homes along the drive, which, in my opinion, disrupts the sense of a historical community. However, there is a 1 km stretch that showcases restored buildings and other artifacts, which does take you back to the fishing villages of the 1920’s.

We arrived at the beautiful Hecla Oasis Resort just before 6:00 p.m. We hadn’t even checked in and already we were booked for a guided snowshoe hike on Saturday afternoon followed by an evening of fine dining at the L’Entoeca restaurant.

As I walked around the lobby, camera stuck to my eye, Eric laboured to unload the ton of stuff we had brought. I suggest to you that a truly liberated woman chooses when and where to be liberated.

The lobby is an extension of the great outdoors and all of nature’s elements. 3 huge, meticulously carved panels depicting ancient Icelandic folklore, usher guests into the great room. Designer and master craftsman Adrian Schimnowski explained to me that the first panel represents birth and creation; the second panel is about love, and the third panel – well, sadly, the end of the world. Actually, it isn’t sad, the 3 elements are in opposition to one another, but together they provide balance. So there you have it.

There are preserved trees bisected by huge slabs of 1” thick etched glass and some of them are sporting carved antlers. Now that’s unexpected. Certain walls were built to represent sheer cliffs of rock while others are painted forests with transparent coverings that add movement and life to the scene. Leather sofas, comfy chairs and soft mood music all tempt you to linger here and relax.

But there’s no lingering for us. Our bodies require nourishment and libation, so we head to the Rok Café for some casual family dining. I found it a riot that there were a bunch of ladies sidled up to the bar wearing big, fluffy, white hotel bathrobes and their “oh so sexy” Ugg boots. At this point in time I didn’t realize this was “de rigeur” behaviour for the resort.

Soon enough my partner and I were tramping through the lounge, similarly attired, on our way to the hydrotherapy pool and “water park”. Oh, I saw the waterslide when we checked in. It’s been calling to me. I’ve never tried one, and tonight, at this late hour, the mammoth structure was void of brave, coordinated children. Up I climbed, up and up. The gaping maw of the waterslide was dark – and that was scary. Still, my pride wouldn’t let me back down the stairs. I sat feebly on the lip of the structure, ‘assumed the position’ and was off: the decision was no longer mine to make. It was a smooth, fast sloosh through the bowels of the beast and (thankfully) soon over as I was delivered unceremoniously into the water and light. I admit to taking on copious quantities of water, an odd sensation, but other than that it was great fun. I can now check that one off the “Bucket List”.

Our beautiful suite was a welcome sight – including the king-size bed with personalized firmness control for each side of the mattress. Imagine that. My partner turned his side of the bed into a hammock while I ramped mine up to feel like a bed of nails. Opposites attract, right? On with the Olympic Games coverage and off to sleep.

Saturday Feb. 27, 2010

Here’s the plan, a quick ski, lunch and then our snowshoein’ experience.

Manitoba Conservation maintains an intriguing system of cross-country ski and snowmobile trails on the island. The ski trails are rated from Novice to Intermediate – based on distance alone, as there is no technical difficulty whatsoever, i.e. no hills or tricky turns. We started with a simple 6 km. glide that took us through the very scenic championship golf course. I knew there was something about golf that appealed to me.

Alas, at the end of the inaugural ski, Eric dismounted from the trail and onto the icy sidewalk in a most unfortunate manner. I’ll give him this, he had great airtime – but then came down like a sack of hammers onto his back – or rather onto the aluminum water bottle in his backpack. He has a nice imprint of a Sigg bottle on his spine to this day.

So much for the plan: the situation now required us to part company. Eric hobbled off to the sauna and whirlpool and I headed off to meet Dr. Hoo, the resort’s resident naturalist and interpreter, for our guided snowshoe event. (Okay, her name is actually Dr. Heather Hinam. She’s affectionately called Dr. Hoo, however, not because she’s a time-traveller, but because her doctoral thesis was all about owls.)

I arrived at the lobby at the appointed time. Dr. Hoo, several of the hotel guests and a very cute miniature Schnauzer materialized, all keen for our nature hike, (there are 14 rooms available to pet owners). No-wax skies and snowshoes are available to rent and they are good quality, which is unusual.

Our trek took about 1½ hrs. We didn’t travel great distances, but stopped to talk, listen and learn. Dr. Hoo stores a wealth of information in that overactive brain of hers and her love of nature is apparent. We didn’t see much wildlife but evidence of their comings and goings was all around us. There were tracks of the white-tailed deer, (the males drag their hind feet!), and here, just about knee-high, the bark had been worn off the shrubs by the bucks rubbing the velvet from their antlers. In a hole under a white spruce we found a stash of buried treasures: mushrooms, cones, seeds and a golf ball (?). There’s no denying who the owner might be – judging by the serious scolding we’re getting from the squirrel above.

I notice, when I return from the outing, that there is another guided snowshoe trek that night under the stars. Tempting, especially since the moon is full, but the lure of a 5-course, gourmet meal at the L’Entoeca restaurant easily trumps snowshoeing. I’ve worked up an appetite. For a relatively small person, I can eat embarrassingly HUGE quantities, (plus my poor ailing partner could use some company).

Sunday February 28, 2010

I have no plan today, but when I open the venetian blinds, I’m stunned. Oh yeah – there’s hoar frost, there’s fog, there’s a crazy angle to the sunlight. Now there’s a plan.

Eric moans and groans and contemplates a “Swedish” massage, (umm, shouldn’t that be an Icelandic massage?) at the resort spa, and I stuff bread and cheese into my mouth while I wax my skis. I have to get outside before the light changes. Sorry, I used to be a professional photographer.

I got the shot. So what if I didn’t brush my teeth or wash my face?

Skiing today is awesome (I may be too old to use that term, but stick with me). As I said above, the cross-country ski trails are level and easy. I’m alone with nature, and I’m pleased for once with my wax job. I’m covering ground, I’ve got water, oranges and chocolate.

It is never advisable to ski, hike, whatever – alone. But, hey, I once worked on this island and I’m almost an expert. I got lost. Took a wrong turn. So a 12.5 km ski turned into a 25 km ski. No worries – today it is +1° and really, I have a good sense of where I’m going. I relax and get into the rhythm.

After a mere 4 hours, the cell phone rings (it’s just a safety precaution: excuse me!). Eric is worried and wondering where I am. So much for the relaxation part. Luckily I’m minutes from the resort and I glide gracefully (unlike some people) to a halt in front of the hotel. I’m tired and – guess what – hungry. Off to the Rok Café we go (well, first I have to suffer a scolding from Eric, who was likely a squirrel in another life).

I have a Buffalo Burger with fries – oh yeah! I eat it all. And a huge glass of milk and a beer and a shot of something that landed on our table (thank you snowmobiling folks), after the Canadians scored a goal and won the Olympic gold medal for hockey. Life is good.

I sleep all the way home, (and no, I’m not the one driving).

A parting gift for Dr. Hoo

Please send an email: jacquie.crone@gmail.com or leave a comment.