Back on the 19th of September, two friends and I headed south from Rock Lake to Pen Lake. Our trip in was into a substantial headwind, but the sky was sunny enough to make it an enjoyable day. By the time we got onto Pen Lake, the waves were rolling up quite strong.

The weather report called for the wind to do a 180 overnight, followed by some rain, a clear cold front and some more rain. We decided to head for the south side of the west point, just one bay into the lake. Being solo in my small 14 foot canoe, I was able to scrape through the "gap" in the rocks between the point and the island. Bill and Ted, with their heavier load, opted to circle east of the island. We brought our canoes around the point and came ashore on its sheltered west bay.

The second day proved the forecast correct. The wind was from the north. The sky was overcast and the air was quite damp. By noon rain was upon us. We ended up under the tarp and took to telling tales. I had brought along a couple of secondhand SF novels for "rain-reading". I had also brought along a copy of "Glimpses of Algonquin" for Ted since he'd never been to Algonquin before. Anyway, Bill suggested I read some of it out loud to both of them.

I don't know what made me pick Chapter 27 ... "With Joe Lavally in the Marsh - 1945 - Bernard Wicksteed". I'd no sooner got the title out, that Bill blurted out, "I know his daughter!"

"No, Joe's daughter!" exclaimed Bill. "I met her at a union conference some years ago. She's from the Whitney area. I knew her dad had been a guide and trapper here. Read on."

We were all quite taken back by this coincidence that bridged over 50 years. The chapter was an excerpt from a book entitled "Joe Lavally and the Paleface".

Well, the reading was definitely intriguing. So much so, that as we left the park a few days later, I picked up a copy of "Joe Lavally and the Paleface" at the Interpretive Center. It proved to be an enjoyable literary window on two unique people and the Algonquin Park of fifty years ago.