Now that I’m living mere minutes above Lake Mazinaw and Bon Echo Provincial Park, it makes sense that I explore the area, even though I’m being forced to work over 27 hours in the average day in the immediate aftermath of moving (Move that box! Find that thing! No, the other thing! Nap that couch! Zzzz…)
Then, when the entire board of the Friends of Bon Echo impressed upon me the importance of seeing Mazinaw Rock up close and personal (okay, it was just Teri, but still…), well, I had to do it, since, as anyone who knows me knows that I always do as I’m told (citation needed).
Into the park
It’s a peaceful and overcast Sunday morning, just after 10 a.m. when my party of four arrives at the dock to await our voyage du jour. The full majesty of Maz Rock sweeps across the eastern field of view. Now that’s a nice bit of scenery there. I’ll soon learn that the deepest points of the lake are directly below the sheer rock face.
Momentarily, I consider what it might be like to jump from the top into the water and then I remember I fear pain.
Shortly, our tour boat approaches. As it happens, we have the boat to ourselves, save the fast-talking Conrad, our steward, and Cap’n Steve, who is getting us from points A to B in delightfully leisurely fashion.
Learnin’ stuff
Will there be a quiz? I’ll fail. Conrad the purser has so much to share, his word rate is impressive. Talk about 90 minutes of content in a 45 minute tour. There’s no way my aged noggin can absorb even a fraction of the information spewing from First mate Conrad.
I’m still a little ticked he was kidding about the mimosas and breakfast service on the cruise. Taunting me with brunch… simply unspeakable!
However, I did store the difference between pictograph and petroglyph, and a week later it still simmers in my cerebral cortex, or medulla oblongata, or wherever it is this sort of thing stores itself. Maybe my spleen. I have no idea what else is going on there.
The Bon Echo
Cap’n Steve maneuvered us in a looping circle away from the Rock then back towards it to test the famed slapback audio feature that provided the park’s name. Given that I have a one-syllable name that everyone on board is used to shouting as a high-volume expletive, on several counts of three, we all shouted, “SCOTT” toward the Rock.
Having never met Maz Rock before this day, I was surprised to find that it shouted, “SCOTT” back as though it, too, were swearing at me. The delay was very close to 125 milliseconds on this day. Kudos to Cap’n Steve for calculating distance and the speed of sound altered by local humidity to produce such a round numbered delay. Another 20 metres in and we’d be able to duplicate the sound of “Heartbreak Hotel.”
Just… take the tour
I’ve been in a provincial park or two in my day. Bon Echo is a good one. You can support it with your day pass fees, daily, seasonal, or annual. Consider a modestly priced membership with the Friends of Bon Echo Park. This is the stuff we lament when it ain’t there anymore. Let’s not have that, shall we?
I’m the wrong guy in the wrong mood on the wrong day to sell you a verbal postcard on the merits of the Mazinaw Rock tour. Just do it. You have no reason to trust me, but once you take the tour you just might.
Out on Highway 41 