It's early morning at Lake Sakinaw and a ghostly mist is rising off the lake's still waters.
Cozied up on a soft couch, I'm gazing out at the lake from the comfort of the Lake Sakinaw Lodge, contemplating the day's activities. A kayak along the shoreline of the heavily forested lake is one option, promising a glimpse at the handful of summer homes that peek through the clearings.
A boat ride past the haunted house of Lake Sakinaw is another possibility, its eerie story spooking locals who still claim to see a spectre on the top floor of the long empty home.
I could hike through the rainforest to glimpse Agamemnon Channel and see the ocean spread before me, or I could swim to the floating dock a few metres away and let my imagination wander for hours, uninterrupted by human sound.
Lake Sakinaw is a gem of the Sunshine Coast unknown to most travelers, who head to nearby Ruby Lake for their recreational watersports and to the populated centres of Gibsons, Sechelt and Powell River for their retail fix.
For Garrett Gabriel, 37, who owns the lodge with his wife Liza and mother Donna, the lake's secrecy is a big part of its charm.
Gabriel had fallen in love with the lake when he visited a friend's cabin many years earlier.
"It's the kind of place where cabins stay in the family from one generation to the next, which makes it hard to buy property there," he said.
The North Shore native trained as a physiotherapist, got married and worked at Vancouver General Hospital before he and his wife Liza realized something was missing.
"Neither of us loved our careers and we had no time to see each other," he recalls.
When they heard a place on the lake was up for sale, they jumped at the opportunity to leave the rat race and move off the grid, opening their three-suite lodge to visiting guests three years ago.
There's a sharp learning curve when a city-born couple leaves the city, to be sure.
In the process of modernizing and refitting the lodge, the Gabriels learned the basics of plumbing and became adept at a wide range of maintenance tasks from excavating the contents of an old outhouse ("the shittiest Valentine's day we ever had," jokes Liza) to erecting solar panels on the roof of their home.
By the time their renovation was completed, though, the three had transformed a once-tired space into a gleaming lodge perfect for a romantic getaway or a family adventure.
I visited in September, sticking a cautious toe in the water on the off-chance a late-season swim might still be possible.
To my great surprise the water was refreshingly warm. With childlike exuberance I tore off my clothes and plunged into that clear water, swimming from one floating dock to another until I was breathless, but rejuvenated.
The second-home-owners had long packed up their cabins and left the lake, which meant that gleaming expanse of water was mine and mine alone.
Over the next 48 hours, my swimsuit never had time to dry. The lake beckoned irresistibly from early morning to evening, and each time I emerged from it, I felt more alive.
"There must be an underground heat source around here, there's no other way to explain the water temperature," Gabriel speculated as we warmed up in the hot tub.
A blue jay was calling from one of the nearby hemlock trees, briefly piercing the magnificent stillness of the afternoon.
Later, we took a walk through a small portion of the Gabriels' seven-acre rain forest along an old logging path Gabriel was in the process of clearing.
"I'm still incredulous that this is our home," he confided.
I felt equally incredulous to have a chance to stay there. My cedar suite was cozy and warm thanks to the crackle of its wood burning fireplace, and the wall of glass out front meant I was never far from a view of the lake.
The two-bedroom space boasted a full gourmet kitchen, a living room with a great collection of DVDs and a private deck with Adirondack chairs.
From furnishings to flooring to décor, the suite was divinely comfortable, exquisitely romantic and hard to leave.
But adventure was calling my name, beckoning with promises of water-skiing on the ripple-free lake, irresistibly beautiful hikes and a pontoon ride to see some of Lake Sakinaw's history.
Packing flasks of hot tea, we hopped aboard the boat and drove past sheer rock cliffs - their crevices crawling with the smooth boughs of desert-red arbutus trees.
We slowed when we reached the ancient petroglyphs, deciphering the figures of fish, turtles, crabs and a two-headed serpent.
"Legend has it that this site was used in male rites-of-passage ceremonies," Gabriel explained solemnly. "Boys would swim underwater for long distances, overcoming their fear of the two-headed serpent who, they believed, lived in the lake."
We puttered quietly back to the lodge, awed by the ancient message of those petroglyphs. Dusk was descending on the lake and a loon laughed from somewhere in the misty distance.
It was one of those precious Pacific Northwest moments, the kind you treasure for years to come because it reminds you of all that's beautiful in the world, insisting, in its sheer beauty, that anything is possible.
IF YOU GO:
- Sequestered across Lake Sakinaw, the Lake Sakinaw Lodge is accessible from the edge of Lake Sakinaw Road only by boat - and owner Gabriel is the friendly ferry-man.
Suite rates range from $229 to $329 per night, breakfast included. Guests have access to Gabriel's rowboat and kayaks, free of charge, as well as unlimited ferry rides to and from their vehicles.
For more information, visit www.sakinawlakelodge.com, or call (888) 341-1720.
- There's always the ferry from Horseshoe Bay, but if you want to get to the Sunshine Coast faster, consider West Coast Air.
For more information, visit www.westcoastair.com, or call (800) 347-2222.
