1944-1945 Year Book - the Gatineau Valley Historical Society

74 Ottawa Ski Club Year Book 1944--45
in their p-lace was a neat porch.
The whole building had · been
jacked up leve'l and set on new
cedar posts. The outside had
been log-sided, the knots shellacked,
and the surface given
two coats of white paint. Inside,
Bill and his boys were busy
putting "Insul-Board" on the
ceiling. What a transformation!
But I made one fatal mistake
-I showed too much interest
and enthusiasm. And this ls
why: Bm, the crafty captain of
the Night Riders, when he heard
that I was going to spend a week
or so in those parts, casually
suggested that it might relieve ·
the boredom if I would undertake
to give the lodge its third
coat of white paint. He started
off very gently but gradually increased
the pressure, finally
bribing me by offering the use
of his battery radio set for the
week. I succumbed. And heaven
help the member I find parking
his (or her) skis against
that glossy surface!
Early Monday morning my
ever-faithful helpmeet deserted
me for more pressing duties in
the city, leaving me all alone in
the fastness of Pink Lake with
a large paint brush and a fivegallon
can of white paint for
company.
Nevertheless, I had a glorious
vacation-and here is the routine
I followed: news over the
rent-free ( ?) radio at 8 a.m.;
breakfast at 9; reading til~
10.30; exercise (with the paint
brush) 10.30 till noon; swim;
news at 1; and lunch at 1.30. My
afternoon schedule was pretty
\
much the same, although I always
managed to work in a little
siesta after lunch. In the
evening I chatted with the Hancocks,
read, and lounged around
enjoying the invigorating
mountain air and the calm stillness
that comes with the setting
of the sun.
During that week I lived the
life. of Reilly! I was the only
regular guest at the inn and felt
like Louis XIV, sitting alone in
in the dining-room receiving the
undivided attention of the kindly
and generous Mrs. Hancock.
She waited on me hand and foot.
and even catered .to my personal
taste in the matter of food.'
Bill Irving and his young
brother Bob came up W edneRday
afternoon and worked tiil
Friday night panelling the ceiling
and doing fussy little jobs
that required special attention.
On Saturday there was an invasion
of fourteen Night Riders.
Bill had them all organized into
gangs : some were painting the
window-frames a brilliant red;
others were applying "Masonite"
to the walls, making shutters
which were first-coated immediately,
clearing up rubbish