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History of Richardson's Shangri-La The property that cradles the resort was once the site of a large Ojibwa village. Our lakefront property is one of the few places on Pelican that has both a natural sand beach and high bluffs needed for a settlement. Soft sand was a necessity to keep birch bark canoes from tearing during landing. Besides the occasional artifact found, evidence of this former village is visible by walking on the back hills and observing the cylinder-shaped remnants of the Anishinabe wild rice pits. It's not difficult to picture darkened natives parching rice; carefully stirring and loosening the husks. The earliest inhabitants, like us, probably sat near the lake in awe as the same northern lights, like green spirits, danced in the northern sky. During the end of the 18th century and into the dawn of the 19th, local Indian tribes exchanged pelts from beaver, otter, muskrat, black bear, red fox, pine martin, timberwolf, mink, fisher and an occasional wolverine -- "the devil himself" -- for trade goods with colorful voyageurs. These French Canadians, wearing red, drooping caps and bright hooded cloaks, paddled canoes from Hudson Bay into the Quetico-Superior wilderness. In the late 1800's a group of brawny men, with grizzly beards and wool cruisers, came to harvest the endless miles of conifers to provide lumber to build a burgeoning nation. These mostly Scandinavian men worked hard and drank hard. Our shed is littered with remnants from the days of old-style horse logging. Our grandfather Ralph, back in the early 50's, had an old Finish lumberjack friend named Sulo Ollila who left him equipment used during the early days of logging. The rusted crosscut saw, the cant hook with worn wooden handles, the Swede saw with missing teeth, the sweat-stained horse harness, and the chipped steel wedges now rest in the boat shed. A boom chain found while diving for anchors also hangs from the rafters in the shed. Peer out into the woods and you may imagine a team of gray-bearded draft horses, with smoke drifting from their icy noses, skidding a white pine through powdery snow or pulling a big sleigh load of Norways. Men, with icicles hanging from their tangled beards, working a two-man crosscut saw and falling a pine as wide as a boat. Envision them in their camps after sundown, pinching snuff, drinking whiskey, telling crude stories. Luckily the lumberjacks left a few white pines standing, like the big timber encircling Cabin 2 and the dead pine supporting the osprey’s nest north of the resort. These mature white pines are over 200 years old. Beginning in the 1920's and 30's, resorts sprouted throughout Minnesota. America was rapidly urbanizing and there was talk about escaping from the city. "Turn your eyes northward, where everything is unspoiled," Minnesota State brochures promised. The lure of abundant fish in a secluded wilderness attracted Ralph and Jan Richardson. Throughout the 1940's, Ralph, a school principal, basketball coach, and carpenter, along with his wife Jan, also a teacher, drove up from San Pierre, Indiana, with their kids to spend three weeks at Cabin O'Pines Resort on the south end of Pelican. During their summer vacations of 1948 and 1949, Ralph and Jan began an earnest search for Pelican Lake property. A handshake agreement to purchase land was made in 1949. For the first two years the path from Hitchcock Road to the Goodsky’s tribal land (today’s Sugar Bush Trail) would not support vehicle traffic. The only trace of civilization on the land was a lakefront trail running from the Goodsky’s to Lammi’s point. Big Gene Jordan, a neighboring Ojibwa, and his squaw were hired to brush a clearing for a lane. Ralph wanted to brush a straight path, but Jan insisted that a curvy lane would be more scenic. Ralph built the first cabin during the summer of 1950. Every morning Ralph loaded a Cabin O’ Pines wooden boat with building supplies, fired up his 2 ½ HP Evinrude and made the two mile trek across Pelican. I’m sure he did a little trolling for northern on the way. Heavier lumber was hand carried from Hitchcock Road to the cabin. Working without electricity or running water, it took six weeks from daylight till dark to build a cabin shell. The Richardson boys (Jack and Dan) and their cousin Lonnie Cesal, all still in high school, arrived after a long Greyhound ride in time to help put on the roof. In 1951 the cabin was completed and named Lakeside (Cabin 2). Gas was used for lighting, lake water for drinking and cooking. By 1955 Micha (Cabin 4), Boo Shoo (Cabin 5) and the Main Cabin were added. The big red bell, from Jan’s one room schoolhouse in Indiana, was hung outside the cabin; it became the dinner bell, not only beckoning family members to stop working and start eating, but also reminding fishermen in the bay to head home for lunch. In addition, electricity was brought in and the lane was slowly graveled. Each evening, after a long day of building and brushing, the men drove Ralph’s car to a gravel pit on Indian Point and filled the trunk. They shoveled several trunk loads each evening until the lane could support automobiles. In 1956 a well 30 feet deep was hand dug to provide drinking water. Ralph witched the underground vein near Boo-Shoo using a willow branch divining stick. Dynamite, an off-the-shelf item at Lamni's General Store, was used to fragment large rocks. At 22 feet down Ralph placed four sticks around a particularly large granite boulder. A cloak of nervous tension would drape over the well diggers when Ralph gingerly positioned an explosive charge. While Ralph was at the bottom of the well, Earnie, Ralph’s brother and a man constantly playing practical jokes, tied a string around a fire cracker, lit it, and let it drop a few feet into the well. BOOM! They say Ralph’s scream of fright could be heard all the way to Saunder’s Bay. That was the last time Earnie was invited to the resort. Jack spent his first full summer on Pelican Lake in 1958. Over the course of the next few years, he became more involved in resort operations. In 1959 he met Eve Narkus at the University of Wisconsin - Madison. Eve was working on her Masters, while Jack was pursuing a Ph.D. in history. They fell in love and married in 1961; a few months later Jack’s mother Jan passed away. Her window flower boxes and much of the furniture and kitchen utensils from the late 40’s and 50’s live on in the cabins. Jan also named the resort Shangri-La; the remote beautiful place in her favorite book, James Hilton’s 1933 classic novel Lost Horizon. The newlyweds, Ralph, and a host of relatives enthusiastically continued to build the dream of a secluded family spot in the heart of the northern wilderness. In 1962, Jack wrote the following in a journal: 1962 begins a new era at Shangri-La. The growing pains are over. The resort is able to stand alone. Let us hope that the new years bring as much joy and pleasure as the old and as little sadness. During the next few decades Jack and Eve completed the rest of the cabins, added a boat shed, new fishhouse, sauna, laundry facility, new dock and gave birth to four children. Jack, Ralph, Jan, and many of the relatives who made the long journey north to build the resort are no longer with us, but their years of sweat and calluses and stories and memories live on. The new millennium has ushered in the third generation of family members running the resort – Richardson’s Shangri-La. Several of the little tykes who dig in the sandbox and splash in the water are forth generation guests. Some change is inevitable, but we aim to keep the tradition of the resort alive, not only for the next generations of Richardsons, but for the next generations of guests who have made Shangri-La part of their lives. Let us hope that the new years bring as much joy and pleasure as the old and as little sadness.
To be continued… |
