Going off-grid in the snowy Canadian winter – a cosy cabin will keep out the cold
- Cabins scattered throughout the wilderness give a snug sense of survival against the freezing odds – just don’t let the fire go out
- From the Rocky Mountains to the shores of Ontario’s many lakes, a remote retreat is inherent to the country’s culture
A log pops and embers make a rustling sound as they reposition themselves in the fireplace. Silence returns. No matter how hard my ears strain, they can find no other sound; no wind whispering against the cabin, no distant traffic, no music from neighbours.
There are no neighbours, and the woods surrounding our rough cabin are asleep under a metre of snow in the long dark night of a Manitoban winter.
Suddenly there comes a high-pitched howl – “Yip, yip, yoooowwwww …” – fading into a thread across the night sky. Hairs on the back of my neck prickleas the last note wavers. Again, the coyote barks and howls, then is joined by others, calling from different directions. They sing an undulating, crying song to each other, back and forth through the woods; a choir that taunts us, reminding us we are in their wilderness, on their terms.
The woods in this part of Canada are a mixture of tamarack and spruce, their branches drooping with snow. White birch and balsam poplars stand naked, skeletal, stripped of their leaves.
The mercury hovers between minus 20 degrees Celsius and minus 40, the air is so cold it hurts our lungs but makes the cabin seem all the more cosy. It is tiny, just one room, with bunk beds in one corner, a wood stove, a pile of firewood, a table and chairs, and a small cupboard that serves as a kitchen. It is lit with kerosene and gas lamps that leave dark shadows in the corners. There is no running water or electricity.
