The Cottages On Main Street

Dorset, Ontario

Compiled and edited by Paul Dillenberger

The Cottages on Main Street Dorset, Ontario

INTRODUCTION

Heading south, the road that passes by the Dorset Community Center and Robinsonǯs General Store, goes over the old bridge, –Š‡’ƒ••‡•„›ƒ‡‘ˆƒ›•ƒ”‹‡—•‡—ǡ‰‘‡•—’Dz‹ŽŽ ‹ŽŽǡdz a† ‘–‹—‡•’ƒ•––Š‡‘”•‡– ƒ”ƒ‰‡‹•‘™ƒ•Dzƒ‹–”‡‡–Ǥdz It is also known as Rte. 39. It used to be the only road that went through Dorset (before the Hwy. 35 bypass). At that time, Main Street consisted of the end of Hwy. 118 (renamed Hwy. 117) and part of the Bobcaygeon Road (later the old Hwy. 35). At the southern most part of Main Street (past the Dorset Garage), is a string of cottages along the shore of Trading Bay just outside the village of Dorset. Many of those cottages, due to their proš‹‹–› –‘ Dz†‘™–‘™dz ‘”•‡–ǡ ƒ”‡ ƒ‘‰ –Š‡ ˜‡”› ˆ‹”•– cottages on Lake of Bays. This booklet is about those cottages.

First you will be introduced to the history of the village of Dorset, many of whose businesses operated on Main Street. Then four cottages on Main Street will be featured, each with a unique story, related in a unique style. Throughout the booklet, you will notice common references to places and people. It is hoped that you will enjoy learning about this ‡Ž‡‡–‘ˆ‘”•‡–ǯ•”‹ ŠŠ‹•–‘ry.

HISTORY OF DORSET - Written by Michael Woodside

‘”•‡– Šƒ• „‡‡ ƒ”‘—† ˆ‘” “—‹–‡ •‘‡–‹‡Ǥ  – ™ƒ•ǯ– always called Dorset, nor were many of the local Dz•’‘–•dz around the village called what they are called today. In the days of Zachariah Cole, back in the mid-nineteenth century, Dorset was called Cedar Narrows, so-called because squirrels could jump from one side of the narrows to the other by way of the dense stands of cedars lining the shallow waters. Carts and horses could easily ford the narrows, and planks were placed down for pedestrians. When the dam went in at Baysville early in the 20th century, Cedar Narrows became much wider and deeper, more like the narrows are today.

Across Trading Bay was Bummers Roost, which is now part of the ƒ””‘™•‘ƒ†ǤŠ‹ŽŽ‹’ǯ•ƒ›™ƒ•–Š‡•ƒŽŽ‡”„ƒ›–‘–Š‡‡ƒ•– named after the first Postmaster, George Phillips, but gradually „‡ ƒ‡ ‘™ ƒ• ‘Š› ƒ‡ ƒ› —–‹Ž –Š‡ ͳͻͷͲǯ•Ǥ  Š‹• ™ƒ• apparently as a result of the impoverished first settlers who could only grow corn in the Muskoka soil. Down at the end of this bay, ‘™ ƒŽŽ‡† ‹––Ž‡ ”ƒ†‹‰ ƒ›ǡ ™ƒ• Š”‹‰Ž‡›ǯ• ”‹†‰‡ spanning the Hollow River, and named after J. B. Shrigley, who ran the first lumber mill in 1874. At the corner of the bay was Red-Eyed Wiggler Corner, named so because an elderly settler, who had a deep love for strong drink, kept his whisky bottles in earth or snow banks and wiggled them out when required.

Zach Cole changed the name of Cedar Narrows to Colebridge in 1879, but it was discovered that there was already a Colebridge in Ontario; so to accommodate the installation of a Post Office, Colebridge was changed to Dorset in 1883. Dorset is an abbreviation of Dorsetshire, England, in which there is the town of Sherbourne, the name of one of the Dorset area townships. Zach had a 17-ƒ ”‡ ’”‘’‡”–› ™Š‡”‡ ‘„‹•‘ǯ• ‡‡”ƒŽ –‘”‡ and the LCBO are today. Part of the Bobcaygeon Road ran through his property, and he named it Cole Street. As well as building his home here, he built a small hotel named The Colebridge. It is sometimes conjectured that the LCBO did not arrive in Dorset until the mid 1960s as a result of what might have transpired on a Saturday night at The Colebridge, not to mention what the Dzgoings-ondz might have been across the ƒ””‘™• ƒ– –Š‡ ‘–Š‡” –™‘ Š‘–‡Ž•Ǥ  —•– —’ –Š‡ •–”‡‡–ǡ ƒ •–‘‡ǯ• throw from the Colebridge, was the village jail, which remained –Š‡”‡—–‹Ž–Š‡ͳͻʹͲ•Ǥ ‡‘”‰‡—––‘’‡‡†‘”•‡–ǯ•ˆ‹”•–‰‡‡”ƒŽ store b›Š‡‘Ž‡„”‹†‰‡‘ƒ Š‘Ž‡ǯ•’”‘’‡”–›„‡Š‹†–‘†ƒ›ǯ• LCBO. While farming was a major activity in the summer months, trapping and logging were the occupations in the winter months. In areas to the north, logs would come down the Oxtongue River from Algonquin Park and floated down Lake of Bays to Baysville and the South Muskoka River. Otherwise, logs would come down from Kawagama Lake to Raven Lake and the Black River and then on to Washago and the Severn River system. In 1894, Angus McKay built a second lumber mill on Harvey Avenue. The Gilmour Tramway was built in order to send lumber directly to south-central Ontario; it was gradually abandoned as the age of logging slowly came to an end and tourism began to take over.

In 1871 Charles Drake built a second hotel on the south side of the narrows where the Trading Bay Dining Company now resides. This early hotel evolved into the red-brick, three-story Hotel Dorset, after burning down in 1907. It had wooden balconies on three sides of the first two floors. Since then it has gone through several transformations, including going from hotel to restaurant. Another hotel was erected across the street from the Hotel Dorset. It was originally called the Alvira House ƒˆ–‡” –Š‡ ‘™‡”ǯ• ™‹ˆ‡ǡ —‹ ‡ Ž˜‹”ƒǤ  Later, it was called the ƒ‘•‡›‘ ‘–‡Ž ȋDz‰‘‘† Š‘—•‡dzȌ „—– —ˆ‘”–—ƒ–‡Ž›ǡ ‹– „—”‡† down in 1927.

‡”‡‹ƒŠŽƒ›–‘„‘—‰Š– ‡‘”‰‡—––ǯ••–‘”‡ƒ ”‘••–Š‡„”‹†‰‡ on the north side in 1905. Mr. and Mrs. Fred McKey also built a •–‘”‡‘ƒ Šƒ”‹ƒŠ‘Ž‡ǯ•’”‘’erty (after his death). However, when Fred McKey died, his wife married Harry Robinson, and in 1921, the McKey store became the now famous Robinsonǯs General Store.

Dorset in the early days Hotel Dorset (center left) Ȃ The Alvira (center right) Ȃ Žƒ›–‘ǯ•ƒ”‹ƒ (center) Ȃ Burk & Avery (right of Hotel Dorset) - The Iroquois Steamboat is docked in front of the Alvira. There were many stores that came and went on the south side, ‹ Ž—†‹‰ ƒ †”—‰ •–‘”‡ ‘ ƒ Š‹ŽŽ Œ—•– —’ ˆ”‘ –‘†ƒ›ǯ• Ž† ‹ŽŽ ƒ”‹ƒǤŠ‡•ƒŽŽ”‹•‡‹–Š‡”‘ƒ† ƒ‡–‘„‡‘™ƒ•Dz‹ŽŽ ‹ŽŽǤdzŠ‡Žƒ›–‘•–‘”‡™ƒ•’—” Šƒ•‡†‹ͳͻʹʹƒ†Šƒ†•‡˜‡”ƒŽ previous owners dating back to 1879 when Tomas Ball owned it. Jack Clayton (and later, his son John Clayton) operated Claytonǯs General Store until 1995. The Post Office was located in this store until 1964 when a new Post Office was built across the street. Rafters and Oh Buoy! Take Out are now located in the old Žƒ›–‘ǯ• –‘”‡Ǥ There were other stores as well. ’ƒ”ǯ•–‘”‡was established in 1899, where the Trading Bay Dining Company parking lot is located today. It became the Cassidy & Sparks store, which burned down in 1907, was rebuilt, then sold to Charles Burk and became the Burk & Avery store; it burned down in 1944.

The Dock in Dorset - 1985 Pictured: Jack Clayton (center right), Robert McLaughlin (lower right) and Paul Dillenberger and his son, Timothy (walking toward the steamboat)

There are several other structures of note, which add to ‘”•‡–ǯ•”‹ Šƒ† ˜ƒ”‹‡† Š‹•–‘”›ǤŠ‡‘”•‡– ‹”‡ ‘™‡”™ƒ• erected in 1922, but its status and purpose formally changed in 1967 when it was rebuilt and changed to a 100-foot observation tower. Today it is a popular tourist destination. The Lake of Bays Marine Museum which now provides a home base for the newly renovated Bigwin ferry and a Lake of Bays souvenir emporium, used to be a marina operated by the Žƒ›–‘ˆƒ‹Ž›™Š‘ƒŽ•‘‘™‡†ƒ†‘’‡”ƒ–‡†Žƒ›–‘ǯ• ‡‡”ƒŽ Store next door. Prior to that, in the days of steamer transportation on the lake, the Lake of Bays Navigation Co. used steamers in the summer months to deliver mail and to ferry passengers to Dorset from around Lake of Bays. The steamer Iroquois would dock in the narrows overnight, while the captain and crew would sleep in the upstairs of the Marina.

Today Dorset is a bustling and vibrant little community with much to offer residents and tourists alike. On long holiday weekends in the summer, it is often standing room only in the little village, with boats galore, divers on the bridge, great shopping and wonderful sunsets by Bummers Roost. - Written by Paul Dillenberger

This article is about Point Sibylla, that magical place, located somewhere in Canada. In my world as a child, I remember hopping into the backseat of the car at our home in New Jersey. Many hours later, after fighting with my brother, traveling on Route 11 (then a two-lane, two-way road) in heavy traffic, and experiencing that long, windy roller coaster ride on Hwy. 118 (now Hwy 117), we'd pull into the driveway of the cottage. That driveway, which is probably 50 metres in length, seemed like it was a mile long. Finally, after what seemed to be forever, I could see the backside of the cottage. As soon as the car stopped, we would all jump out and run down to the lake. And sure enough, in my excitement and like it was on cue, I would fall off the dock, fully dressed, into the shallow water, a yearly experience for me. This of course occurred when I was a young kid in the 1950s. In the 1960s, my teenage years, the routine changed. We would first stop at Lake of Bays Marine (now Pride of Lake of Bays) to pick up the boat. I was allowed to drive the boat to our boathouse, while my mother would drive the car to the cottage. In any case, arriving at the cottage was a very special experience for me. And now in my sixties, I still get excited driving down that "long" driveway for the first time each summer season. My brother and I now get along; Hwy. 11 is a major freeway; the roller coaster road has been straightened making the trip half as long; we wait a few days to pick up the boat; and miraculously I remain on the dock as I view the water for the first time. Point Sibylla, named after my great grandmother (her middle name was Sibylla), is a point of land located just outside the village of Dorset, Ontario on Trading Bay, part of Lake of Bays. The cottage was built in 1910 at the direction of my great grandfather, Daniel B. Stumpf, a holistic doctor from Buffalo, New York. He was a fisherman who loved to head north to the lakes of Ontario for his fishing trips. He discovered Lake of Bays and fell in love with the area. The story goes that he stood in the town of Dorset and walked along the shore until he stopped at a point of land where a brook babbled into the lake. He decided to buy that piece of land. To the best of my recollection, records in Bracebridge show that he purchased the spot for $500 in 1908. He had the cottage built on a hill where the land drops down to a flat area by the water. When one enters the cottage from the back, one enters at ground level. As one moves through the cottage to the front (lakeside), one ends up on a covered porch, which is 12 feet off the ground. The cottage had two bedrooms, a cedar paneled living room, a kitchen with a pantry, and a toolroom. The cottage also had an attic which spanned the entire cottage including the porch; it was livable due to the three dormers

Daniel B. Stumpf Louise Sibylla Stumpf located on the roof. A wood shed and what we called the greenhouse (a two seater outhouse) were also built. Water was pumped from the brook up to the house using a hand pump in the kitchen. Water was boiled and cooled by placing pitchers in the brook. All lighting was through the use of oil lamps and candles. To create a sense of privacy the boathouse was built away from the point, thus creating a space between the two, out of sight of any neighbors. My great grandfather had rocks brought in (probably in the winter) to create a reef where waves would break. This created an area that was calm between the reef and the shore. My great grandfather planted lily pads is this area. I can remember those lily pads being there when I was a child. They have since disappeared. Higher water levels now cover those rocks, and they are only visible when the lake is lowered in the fall. There is a story about my father driving the boat over those rocks, having gone too close to shore. After pulling the outboard motor off the boat, one could see the lower half of the motor was hanging from a single wire attached to the upper half.

The kitchen was elongated with an addition in the 1930s. My father (John Dillenberger) added electricity in the 1950s and plumbing in the 1960s. It was pretty exciting to have a bathroom and a hot shower after so many years of "roughing it." In the 1970s it became apparent that the cottage was not level. If you placed a ball anywhere in the cottage, it would roll somewhere. My stepfather (Warren Tuthill) and uncle (R. H. Giles) discovered that the cottage was literally hanging off the chimney. Cedar posts supporting the cottage had rotted. To fix the problem, my step-father spent the next 10 years or so replacing those posts one by one. He used a jack (known as Jack's jack) borrowed from Jack Clayton, owner of Clayton's General Store and Marina. He was so involved with this project that he had names for each of the posts, the main ones being the King and Queen posts. Of course doors and windows had to be adjusted to accommodate the new posts. The family has my stepfather to thank for saving the cottage from falling over into the front lawn.

In the 2000s, my brother (Eric Dillenberger) and I decided that it was time to put a real foundation under the cottage. We decided to dig out the hill and put in a winterized basement. That project took several years; some of the work was hired out and some we did ourselves. We added another bathroom, a laundry area, two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchenette. The kitchenette is still not complete. The basement has a walkout with a view of the lake. It was important to us to preserve the 100 year old part of the cottage, so we matched the outer decor of the basement to the rest of the cottage as best as we could. The basement houses a 100-year-old piano that was hauled from New Jersey. The piano was a wedding gift to my grandparents. It seems that a 100-year-old cottage is an appropriate place for a 100-year-old piano.

Point Sibylla has a 100-year history as a family cottage. My great grandfather had two sons (Elmer and Norman Stumpf) and two daughters (Alice and Irma Stumpf). He paid for his two sons to go to college and gave the cottage to his two daughters, one of whom (Alice) was my grandmother. My grandmother had four children (Walter, Hilde, Alice and Elsa Lohans), one of whom was my mother (Hilde). As generations passed, ownership became split between many people. My parents purchased our relatives' shares; at this time, my brother and I own the cottage. My mother had spent all but three or four summers of her 89 years at the cottage. I have spent all but three or four summers of my life (I am 63 years old) at the cottage. My children (Michael and Timothy Dillenberger) continue to come to the cottage on a regular basis as well. There is a crib, highchair and child-sized table and chairs in our attic that were used by my mother, myself, and my two sons. The cottage is a constant in our varying lives.

Above is the oldest picture (circa 1910) of the cottage, probably taken soon after it was built. Note the stairs protruding from the center of the porch. If you look closely, you will see relatives, from three generations ago, posing on the stairs. The cottage is held up by cedar posts, which are covered by wooden mesh that surrounds them. Below is the cottage about 100 years later. Note that the stairs were taken down and rebuilt (not visible in this picture) on the side. In 2003, the posts supporting the cottage were replaced by a new foundation and basement, providing new winterized living space and preserving the 100-year-old part of the cottage.

My great grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Stumpf, are pictured in the photo above. You can see the back of our cottage (before the addition of an extended kitchen and bathroom) in the left side of the photo. Pictured below is the same scene some 90 years later.

At my mother's funeral, my aunts (Alice Braun & Elsa Giles) shared what life at the cottage was like when they were growing up (in the 1920s and 1930s). Here is their account:

"Every summer we traveled north to the family place at Dorset, Ontario, which was the most beloved place of our childhood--and remained so for Hilde, who went there almost every summer for the rest of her life. There, along with cousins Jackie and Audrey, and Canadian neighbor Margaret, we swam at least twice a day. We played croquet, badminton and volleyball on the lawn. We rowed the old red rowboat around the lake to Paint Creek and hiked up to Lost Lake where we skinny-dipped.

Everyday we walked a mile to town (actually it is less than a mile) for the ƒ‹Žƒ–Žƒ›–‘ǯ•and got our milk-’ƒ‹Ž•ˆ‹ŽŽ‡†ƒ–”•Ǥ‘ŽŽƒ”ǯ•ˆƒ”Ǥ •–‡ƒ† of a refrigerator we had a box in the creek to keep things cool. We hiked past –‘™–‘–Š‡Dz–‹ ƒdzˆ‘”‡•–”ƒ‰‡”ǯ•Ž‘‘‘—–ƒ† Ž‹„‡†–‘–Š‡–‘’™Š‡”‡™‡ could see for miles. Evenings we ’Žƒ›‡† Ž‹ Šǡdz’‘‘ˆdzƒ†’ ‡‹•ƒ––Š‡ dining table under the Tiffany oil lamp. Sometimes there were plays at the Grange Hall.

‡ˆ‘”‡ ‡Ž‡ –”‹ ‹–› ƒ† ’Ž—„‹‰ ™‡ Šƒ† ƒ Dz‰”‡‡ Š‘—•‡dz ‘—– „ƒ Ȃ our ƒƒ†‹ƒ‡‹‰Š„‘”•–Š‡ ƒŽŽ‡†–Š‡‹”•–Š‡Dz™Š‹–‡Š‘—•‡ǤdzŠ‡‰‡‡”‘—• ‘‘ stove in the kitchen was for cooking as well as heat. The living room had a fireplace. A major project for our father every summer was cutting and stacking firewood."

My mother, Hilde (on the right) and her two sisters, Elsa & Alice in the early 1930s

Croquet on the lawn

The rock is more under water now than in 1926

Myself and my brother (Eric) in 1952 (left) and our two sons (Michael & Ben) at approximately the same age in 1981 Not much has changed over the years. When you look at old photos, things look pretty much the same: the deer head, the model boat, the trout on the wall, the Bigwin Inn banner, the lantern from my great grandfather's boat, the kitchen, even the furniture. One area of the cottage that went through some minor changes is the porch. The original cottage had a side porch (pictured in the bottom right of the first picture below) that led to the front porch, which had a steep set of stairs running from the center of the porch to the lawn below. The side porch rotted away and was removed. The steep stairs were removed and new safer stairs were built on the side of the porch.

The porch in the early days (above) and 100 years later (below)

Pictured above is the living room as it appeared in the early part of the 20th century. Below is the same living room in the mid-20th century. Below that is the living room today. The pipe holder on the left side and the knick-knack holder on the right side of the fireplace remain, as does the built-in cedar chest (on the bottom right) and the cedar paneling throughout. When my grandfather, Hermann Lohans (pictured below), returned from India as a missionary, he added the leopard skin (upper left) and the alligator tail (hanging from the center of the mantel). At some point, the bricks were painted red and the mortar painted black. On the mantel today, you can see a photo portrait of my great grandparents.

Above is a photo of the kitchen extension as it looked in 1941. On the left side of the photograph, you can see a hand pump, used to draw water from the brook. At the right is the same view today. As you can see, not that much has changed. An oil lamp above the table has been replaced by an electric light. The table in the back is still used today. The linoleum floor has been painted, but the pattern is exposed in the bottom center of the photo. Faucets and modern plumbing have replaced the hand pump. Water is now drawn from the lake rather than the brook, probably due to pollution created by construction of the Hwy. 35 Dorset bypass.

Above: Adding the foundation and basement in 2003

Below: The cottage as it appears today in 2013

View of cottage and boathouse from the lake circa Ȃ 1910

My great-grandmother, grandparents, and uncle are sitting on the shore.

View of cottage (behind the trees) and boathouse from the lake circa - 2010

My great-grandmother, Louise Sibylla Stumpf, on Point Sibylla with the Iroquois steamboat headed into Dorset in the early 20th century

My wife, Suzanne, and her mother, Helen Benninger by Point Sibylla in the early 21st century

The beauty of the area and the connection to the past keep us coming back to Dorset, year after year, regardless of where we live. Currently, we travel from Minnesota. My son, who just moved to California, still travels to the cottage. My brother visits the cottage from Oregon. We continue to enjoy the experience--the beautiful sunsets, the call of the loon, the hummingbirds that visit year after year, visiting with family and friends, reading, solving crosswords and sudokus on the porch, walking to town, boating, swimming, fishing, water skiing, playing games, croquet on the lawn, gardening, sitting on the back porch--and most of all, relaxing. I am hopeful that family will continue to enjoy the cottage for the next 100 years and will consider our photos to be their "old photos." The Stumpf Cottage

Dr. Daniel B. Stumpf, great grandfather of Charles E. Stumpf, visited Dorset in the early 1900s in search of available property for a summer cottage. Daniel was born in Elmira, Ontario in 1856, but resided in Buffalo, New York. While visiting the beautiful country, he stayed at the Alvira Hotel in the village of Dorset. Daniel and family liked the town so much that they later bought adjoining land and summered in Dorset after looking at several other locations. In 1910, Dr. Daniel B. Stumpf built a cottage on that land and named it Point Sibylla (featured ‡ƒ”Ž‹‡” ‹ –Š‹• „‘‘Ž‡–ȌǤ  ‹Ž†‡ —–Š‹ŽŽǯ• •‘•ǡ ”‹  ƒ† ƒ—Ž ‹ŽŽ‡„‡”‰‡”ǡ‘™‘™–Šƒ– ‘––ƒ‰‡Ǥ ‹Ž†‡™ƒ•‘‡‘ˆƒ‹‡Žǯ• grandchildren.

In 1928, Marion Stumpf, wife of Elmer Stumpf, who was one of ƒ‹‡Žǯ••‘•ǡ’—” Šƒ•‡†ƒ‘–Š‡”’”‘’‡”–›ǡŒ—•––™‘’”‘’‡”–‹‡• down the lake from Point Sibylla. This property was purchased from Erastus Lockman, who lived in the now yellow house ȋˆ‘”‡”Ž› –Š‡ Dz ‹Ž‘—” ˆˆ‹ ‡ —‹Ž†‹‰dzȌ ‡ƒ” –Š‡ ‘”•‡– Garage. Marion was a Canadian who travelled north as a little ‰‹”Ž–‘ƒ––‡†ƒ‰‹”Ž•ǯ ƒ’ǤŠ‡Šƒ†Š‡ƒ”†‘ˆƒ‡‘ˆƒ›•ƒ† dreamt of having a cottage on its shore. It was Marion who suggested Lake of Bays to Daniel Stumpf. The construction of the main Stumpf cottage began in 1929. Marion was the designer. The builder was John Booker, who lived a few hundred feet toward Dorset from –Š‡’”‘’‡”–›ǯ• gate. While the ‘––ƒ‰‡ ™ƒ• „‡‹‰ „—‹Ž–ǡ ƒ”‹‘ ƒ† Ž‡”ǯ• •‘ǡ ‘„‡”– —•‡† some of the scraps for furniture. One of his small tables is still used today.

On the upper left is the cottage as it appeared soon after it was built. On the lower left is the cottage many years later. One can see the addition that was annexed in 1966 on the right side of the cottage. Above is a picture of Robert Stumpf sitting on the porch as it was being built.

’‘ƒ”‹‘ǯ•†‡ƒ–Š‹ͳͻ͵ʹǡ–Š‡’”‘’‡”–›™‡––‘Š‡”Š—•„ƒ†ǡ Dr. Elmer H. Stumpf. Electricity was installed in 1948 at which time the original refrigerator was purchased; that refrigerator ”‡ƒ‹• ‹ –Š‡ ‘––ƒ‰‡ –‘ –Š‹• †ƒ›Ǥ  Ž‡”ǯ• ‰”ƒ†•‘ǡ Šƒ”Ž‡•ǡ remembers how the iceman used to walk down the steep hill twice a week to deliver ‹ ‡–‘–Š‡ ‘––ƒ‰‡Ǥˆ–‡”Ž‡”ǯ•†‡ƒ–Š‹ 1965, the property was transferred to his son, Robert C. Stumpf. In 1966, a modern addition was added to the cottage, while maintaining the original structure from 1929. The addition included two modest bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a kitchen. Robert C. Stumpf passed away in 1996. Charles and Sanda Stumpf now own the property with 87 feet of lake frontage. Charles is the son of Robert and Lucille Stumpf.

Charles Stumpf, as well as his parents, were brought up in Buffalo, NY, and would make the trip up north every year. He remembers how the cottage was quite small and he would sleep on a cot next to the kitchen. As the children grew older and Robert and Lucille moved to South Carolina, the family would meet every two or three years. Robert and Lucille then moved to —”‘’‡ƒ†–Š‡ ‘––ƒ‰‡„‡ ƒ‡–Š‡ˆƒ‹Ž›ǯ•‡‡–‹‰’‘‹–‹–Š‡ summers. The cottage was insulated and paneled in the early 2000s to allow for family members to bear the cold nights. Carpet was also put into the cottage to cover the wood floors. The prior tool shed is now used as a laundry room. The original boathouse remains but the dock has been replaced. The original cottage foundation was made up of tree stumps and rocks. Concrete blocks were placed under the cottage later for extra support; however, the floor is not level. Charles says that the —‡˜‡ˆŽ‘‘”Dz‰‹˜‡•–Š‡ ‘––ƒ‰‡ Šƒ”ƒ –‡”ǤdzŠ‡›ƒŽ•‘Šƒ†ƒŽƒ”‰‡ stone fireplace, which was sitting on a rounded rock. When Highway 117 was being blasted, it began to tilt. The fireplace was then strapped to the house but that pulled on the house. Finally, that fireplace, which Robert Stumpf helped to build by hand, rock by rock, had to be taken down.

The cottage was originally green. It is now white with a light blue trim and a red steel roof. A red steel roof was also put on the boathouse in 1990 to prevent leaking. They used to have an old Peterborough boat with wood at the front and back. They also had a fold-up boat, which unfortunately, sank. Next to the boathouse, there is a beautiful natural sand beach, thought to be created by the crib of the boathouse blocking the water, preventing erosion. Thirty feet out into the lake, there is a drop off.

There used to be a freshwater spring running down the length of where the driveway is today, but it has dried up over the years. They used to scoop water from the spring. Charles Stumpf remembers that his job as a little boy was to reel out a 300-foot wire up the hill so that the family could receive radio transmission for entertainment. Even with the wire, reception was extremely weak.

The Peterborough boat Boating at the boathouse docked in Dorset Note the sandy beach in the background.

The boathouse in the early days

Marion Stumpf and her two sons Harry and Robert relaxing on the porch (circa 1931)

The Stumpf Clan circa 1930 back row left to right: Elmer and Marion Stumpf, Louise Sibylla Stumpf, Harry Stumpf, Daniel B. Stumpf, Walter Lohans, Alice Lohans, & Robert Stumpf Front row (left to right): Elsa, Alice, and Hilde Lohans The cottage was originally 20 by 20 feet with a loft that contained two bedrooms, hidden from view by curtains. The loft used to bounce when walking on it, but extra support was added for safety. Most recently, a foundation has been built under the cottage. The Stumpf cottage has a very characteristic charm with many old tools and paraphernalia kept for memories and historical allure. Oil painting by Toronto artist Carol Anne Palmer in 2000

CHETOLAH LODGE

Dz  dz

Written by Tara Gilchrist

Construction of the main lodge with stone fireplaces and two-sided porch

DzChetolahdz translates to Dzhaven of restdz in Cherokee and is very well suited. It is believed that the name came from the original owner, Mr. H. E. Wadsworth, from New York. It is thought that construction began in 1927 and was completed in 1929. The exact dates of land purchase and buildings are unknown but stories of the property and its owners are countless. Luckily some photos survive of the construction of the log buildings. Electricity had yet to make it to Dorset when Wadsworth arrived in 1927 so he paid half the cost to make it so. By 1931, hydro lines had been run from Bracebridge. It is evident through piles of catalogues, receipts and machinery that having proper woodworking and metalworking was important to Wadsworth. Many of the saws and drills currently remain in working order in the tool shed today.

Š‡–‘ŽƒŠŠ‹Ž†”‡ǯ• ”‡•Š‹”ƒ’ ™ƒ• ”‡ƒ–‡† ƒ† ‘’‡”ƒ–‡† ‘–Š‡’”‘’‡”–›ˆ‘”‘Ž›ƒˆ‡™›‡ƒ”•‹–Š‡‡ƒ”Ž›ͳͻ͵Ͳǯ•Ǥ‹––Ž‡‹• known about the camp but it is believed to have been for kids from the Dorset area. Documents still kept in a desk on the ’”‘’‡”–› Š‘Ž† ‘”‹‰‹ƒŽ Ž‡––‡”Š‡ƒ† ™‹–Š –Š‡ ƒ’ǯ• ƒ‡ ƒŽ‘‰ with the names of children that attended. Mini golf, tennis, lawn bowling and swimming were among the many activities the children enjoyed.

The second owner, Mr. Homer C. Selby Sr. (1880-1959) owned the massive Selby Shoe Company in Portsmouth, Ohio. It is not known the exact year Homer Sr., his wife Lola, two sons Homer Jr. and G.D. (George) took ownership of the property. The earliest documentation begins in 1941. There are many ‘Ž‘—”ˆ—Ž•–‘”‹‡•‘ˆ–Š‡ˆƒ‹Ž›ǯs speed boats that used to race

each other on the lake. A long waterfront cabin commonly referred to as the Dzmoteldz no longer exists but is said to have housed the numerous servants. The brothers had their own small planes that they used to get between their home in Ohio and Chetolah. Many letters found in the desk are from Homer Jr.ǯ• ™‹ˆ‡ ƒ‡– ”‡ƒ—ˆǤ  Š‡› –‡ŽŽ •–‘”‹‡• ‘ˆ –Š‡‹” ‘ˆ–‡ Ž‘‰ distance love between Portsmouth and Dorset.

Winter fun

Wadsworth had a large wooden ramp built that was positioned †‘™–‘–Š‡™ƒ–‡”ǯ•‡†‰‡ˆ‘” Š‹Ž†”‡–‘–‘„‘‰‰ƒ‘Ǥ –™ƒ• great fun for some time, but when Marcela Mckay (Barry) broke her arm on the ride, it was time to take the ramp down ˆ‘”•ƒˆ‡–›ǯ••ƒ‡Ǥ

Property Divided

Just to the left of these buildings is where the current property line is drawn. The cabin closest in the image was added onto sometime in the 1940s to establish what the tool shed is today.

Wages Chart

A book containing many local tradesmen names, their trade and hours worked are recorded. It is believed that these are the documents for much of the construction of the buildings on the property.

Mrs. Lola Selby survived her husband Homer Sr., but when she died in 1965, Chetolah was inherited by sons, Homer Jr. and G.D. Selby. Local cottage owner John Fauquier managed his ˆƒ‹Ž›ǯ• Š‘–‡Ž ƒ† „ƒ” DzThe Rockdz just south of Huntsville in 1966 and 1967. He remembers Homer and Janet well. Dz‹–Š‘—– ˆƒ‹Žǡ –Š‡› ȋ ‘‡” ƒ† ƒ‡–Ȍ ™‘—Ž† ƒ””‹˜‡ ƒ– ͳʹǣͶͷ a.m. every evening from August through November for drinks and conversation. They would have been in their late 40s at the time, and I remember they said they married late in life at –Š‡‹†‡–‹ ƒŽƒ‰‡‘ˆͶʹǤdz

G.D. and his wife Joanne had a son named Steven. They would spend each summer at the lodge. In 1985, Homer Jr. passed away and Janet, G.D. and Joanne stopped visiting the property. It sat dormant for some time and sadly nature took its course. Several animals found homes within the many buildings. Many locals still living around Dorset have reminisced about the times they snuck peeks in and around the abandoned buildings. Janet Freauf sold her half to Janet and Jamie Caskey in 1986. G.D. Selby sold his half to Tec (Thomas) Hungerford in 1988. The property was officially divided with the Caskey family owning the larger south side of the two parcels. Later, the Caskeys split the property again and sold a portion to John Francis in 1996.

Mr. Hungerford was able to divide his parcel into three. The lot he kept for himself held a garage and the old tennis court. The lot closest to the north, with one small cabin on it, was sold to Maurizio Romano in 1995.

Inside the lodge photo credit Ȃ Kelly Hollingshead (2009)

Grand and toy rubber stamps still exist from 1932

Communica- tion made easy with many telephones circa 1940s

Game Rules

The lot that sat between Hungerford and Romano is where the main lodge sits today. It also contained a second log guest cabin complete with bathroom, a long tool shed, an ice house, photography darkroom cabin with adjoining sleeping quarters as well as a covered boat slip at the remaining dock.

The Campbell family (Mark and Joanne) purchased the main lodge property in 1991 and spent three years reclaiming the property from the wildlife that had moved in. They tore down some interior walls to open the space and kept the integrity of the beautiful logs and all its furniture. They hosted Dzwork weekendsdz in which upwards of 20 people would lend helping hands on the property while Joanne cooked huge pots of food over the wood-fire Gurney stove. The Campbells loved the property and respected its history, but it became evident that four very young children and another family cottage on Lake Kawagama made it difficult to pay the kind of attention the old buildings needed. It was time to sell once again.

When the Gilchrist family, Tom and Scottie (Elizabeth), purchased the property in the autumn of 1994, it was the beginning of something incredibly special for the family and buildings. The kitchen was opened up by removing part of a wall where there had been two separate rooms with two Dzindz and Dzoutdz doors. They also unhooked the old Gurney but still use it for storage in the kitchen along with the original Kalvinator icebox. During the first spring, the ice collapsed the boathouse which was rebuilt on the same crib although it was built on the shoreline to hopefully avoid future damage. The

The Lodge

Photo credit: Tara Gilchrist 2004

windows were the only things able to be salvaged and used to build the new boathouse.

The two little cabins just behind the kitchen that housed the icehouse and photography darkroom had to be torn down but many of the treasures inside them were saved.

Catalogues and drawings for the original furniture and lamps live in the tool shed and the original armchairs and three seater couch still sit prominently in the central room in the main lodge. Most of the wicker baskets and chairs, Hudson Bay blankets, curtains, lighting and bed frames are original. Letterhead from Wadsworth, Selby and the Fresh Air Camp still sit in the desk drawers as they have for decades. Love letters, receipts, postcards, accounting books, telephone directory, and photographs all still have their place around the desks as well. The large metal box filled with newspapers (for starting fires) next to the fireplace contain papers and magazines from the 1940s at the bottom of the pile. All of the labelled keys to the Wadsworthsǯ suitcases and buidlings around the property still hang in their cupboard at the front entrance. The moose head with inscription of Dz1954dz hangs over the stone fireplace. Š‡–‘ŽƒŠ™‘‡ǯ•‰‘Žˆƒ†•™‹‹‰–”‘’Š‹‡•, dated 1941, sit on the mantle of the fireplaces as well.

Probably one of the best upgrades the Gilchrists completed early on in their ownership was screening-in the lakeside section of the porch. During the summer, this is where countless meals, card games, hanging out and even sleeps are most memorable. Originally, a large coal furnace was used along with the wood fireplace to heat the lodge. Although it has been upgraded to an oil burning furnace, the coal chutes and large amounts of coal still remain in the basement.

Above: photo by Sam Allard 2012

Right: design plans for the light fixtures used throughout the lodge from the mid 1930s

The paint, turpentine, stains, oils and finishes all still sit in original containers on the shelves in the tool shed. An old metal forge suggests the creation of many of the metal fixtures including lamps that are still on site. Antique saws, chisels, jigsaws and boxes of nails all have their places in the tool shed as well.

 –Š‡ •’”‹‰ ‘ˆ ʹͲͲ͹ǡ –Š‡ ‹Ž Š”‹•–ǯ• †ƒ—‰Š–‡” ƒ”ƒ ‘˜‡† –‘ Chetolah to start her pottery business. Ever since her parents bought the cottage when she was 13, she loved the idea of living there. After a few years she took the Chetolah name and memory with her down Main Street to Harvey Avenue West to expand her business and open Chetolah Pottery Studio. It ™ƒ•ǯ– Ž‘‰ „‡ˆ‘”‡ Š‡” „”‘–Š‡”  ‘–– ™ƒ• †”ƒ™ ‘”–Š; he currently lives year round in the log guest cabin. He is an active ‡„‡”‘ˆ‘”•‡–ǯ•˜‘Ž—–‡‡”ˆ‹”‡†‡’ƒ”–‡–ƒ†„—‹Žt a year- round garage for wood and car projects. Now most weekends are all about family as Tom and Scottie visit regularly from Toronto.

Around 1999, Joanne Selby (wife of the late G.D. Selby) visited the property and had an emotional experience. The curtains she had made were still hanging in the windows. The moose head over the stone fireplace, most of the furniture and even the rowboat hanging from the ceiling as a light fixture were still in place. She was truly able to step back in time.

Above and right: construction of the log style lodge in 1927

Below: file folders for various local businesses

LETTERHEAD FROM THE EARLY DAYS (LEFT)

Below: twisted boathouse and dock Photo by Tom Gilchrist (1996) As time passes, the Gilchrist family continues to fuse Š‡–‘ŽƒŠǯ• rich past with the present. The property has seen countless holidays and precious shared moments. In the beginning, the family had guests visiting constantly; but as the years press on, the invitations have become fewer, to allow for more relaxed visits. There are still constant projects and chores; but after 80+ years, the Above: interior of lodge Photo by Kelly Hollingshead place is really growing into its (2009) name. Chetolah really is a Below: winter view of haven of rest guest cabin Dz Ǥdz Photo by Sam Allard (2012)

The Walsh (Roelofson/Richardson) Cottage

In the early 1900s, the original Richardson property was divided into three separate lots; one was kept by the Richardsons and the others were sold to the Petersons (now owned by Forward) and the Hollingworths (Fraser). The three boathouses pictured below are the boathouses for those three properties.

ƒ‡ ƒŽ•Šǯ• ‘–Š‡” ™ƒ• ‹Ž†”‡† ‘‡Ž‘ˆ•‘ǡ ‡‡ ‹ Šƒ”†•‘Ǥ  ‹Ž†”‡†ǯ• ˆƒ–Š‡” ™ƒ• –Š‡ ‘”‹‰‹ƒŽ ˆƒ‹Ž› owner of the property. In 1977, Mildred wrote her memoirs regarding her experiences coming to Dorset summer after summer. Her journeys to Dorset began in 1911 at the age of 7 years. The following pages contain her stories, which go back as many as 66 years from the time that she wrote them.

These rustic stone steps that lead down to the boathouse were built by ‹Ž†”‡†ǯ• husband, father and brother. Later, her son, Dick, built the railing.

I REMEMBER DORSET By Mildred Roelofson (nee Richardson) Written in 1977

I Remember

It was June 1911 that my Dad, Charles Frederick Richardson, brought my mother Clara, my sister Rhoda, and me to Dorset for the first time.

I am trying to recall, or inquire from Mother, the names of some of the builders, carpenters, and stone masons who built this cottage.

The man who erected the walls was Jerry Loucks of Dorset who worked for the government (Roads Department) but Dz‘‘Ž‹‰Š–‡†dz ˆ‘” •‘‡ ‡š–”ƒ ™‘”Ǥ  ‡ „—‹Ž– ƒ „‡ƒ—–‹ˆ—Ž „”‡ƒ™ƒŽŽ‘–Š‡™ƒ–‡”ǯ•‡†‰‡ƒ†ƒˆ‹‡”‡–ƒ‹‹‰™ƒŽŽ‘–Š‡ hill. The rocks for these walls were dragged from the water by two huge Clydesdale horses and the driver was Ernie Clayton, 13 years old, who is now 84 and lives up the hill from us in Dorset.

Mr. Johnston and Mr. Martin built the fireplace and chimney. One of them was often gone, and this slowed the progress considerably. He was a very strong man, and one of the stories about him was that he could lift the big wood burning stove in our kitchen right up off the floor.

We came to Dorset on June 30th (1911) and traveled by Dz•Ž‡‡’‡”dz‘–Š‡ ”ƒ†”—ƒ‹Ž™ƒ›–‘ —–•˜‹ŽŽ‡Ǥ ”‘–Š‡”‡ we went by way of Penninsular Lake and Mary Lake (sic) on the Algonquin Steamboat to the Portage, where a tiny train (The Portage Flier) took us over the mile of portage to Lake of Bays. The little train was said to be in use as a Toronto streetcar, except for the engine. The trip was up a hill to Lake of Bays so –Š‡ ‡‰‹‡ Šƒ† –‘ Dz’—•Šdz –Š‡ ƒ”•Ǥ   ‹–• ”‡–—” –”‹’ –‘ Penninsular Lake, it made great speed pulling the loaded cars and freight along. This trip to Dorset was a big treat for Rhoda and me, but very tiring for our parents. We left Toronto at around 10:30 p.m. and arrived at Dorset the next day at noon.

All our belongings were trucked from the steamboat at Dorset to our cottage, which was about a half mile away. (There were) trunks, packing cases and canned foods. (There was very little available except staples at the Dorset stores and almost NO MEAT!!!)

Rhoda and I were sent out to play. Play?? We had never been in the woods before, and it was a real woods back then. In a few minutes we ran up to tell Papa that we had seen a baby bear. Imagine the excitement!! Dz Ž‡dz Pete Peterson who had built the cottage next door came running over with a gun, and the –™‘‡™‡–• ‘—–‹‰ƒ„‘—–Ǥ—”Dz„‡ƒ”dz–—”‡†‘—––‘„‡ƒ black squirrel!

When Dad bought the property he sold two parts to friends. One man was older than Dad but a business friend named Sam Hollingworth. The other was another business friendȂMr. Peterson. The Petersons have left long since and the cottage has changed ownership several timesȂsometimes to our distress. Mrs. Peterson wished to be close to Mother because she was afraid of being alone. So their cottage is on the edge of our land. Two families whom we liked very much were the Kuntz family from Kitchener and Mr. and Mrs. Betz from Toronto.

On the other side of our property lived a family from Buffalo, Dr. and Mrs. Stumpf. There were two boys and two girls. They were older than Rhoda and I, but ever so kind to us. One of them married a Lutheran minister, the Rev. Mr. Lohans. They occupied the cottage until one of their daughters, Hilde, now Mrs. Warren Tuthill, took ownership, and she comes up every •—‡” ˆ”‘ ‡™ ‡”•‡›Ǥ  ‹Ž†‡ ƒ† ƒ””‡ǯ• Š‹Ž†”‡ ƒ”‡ ˆ‘—”–Š‰‡‡”ƒ–‹‘˜‹•‹–‘”•–‘Dz‘‹–‹„›ŽŽƒdz™Š‹ Š™ƒ• named for Mrs. Stumpf.

Our cottage belonged to my mother and father and their six children and many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Š‹• ‘•–‹–—–‡•ƒDzˆ‘—”‰‡‡”ƒ–‹‘ˆƒ‹Ž›dzˆ‘”‘—” ‘––ƒ‰‡Ǥ

The other cottage where fourth generation people visit each •—‡” ‹• –Š‡ ‘ŽŽ‹‰™‘”–Šǯ• ‘‡ǡ ‘™ ‘™‡† „› ”‡‡ Hollingworth, the daughter of Samuel. The nieces, nephews and grandchildren visit there which makes it a four generations spot also. This is quite remarkable as many cottages change ownership very often.

Since Rhoda and I were the first children among all these people, we were very well treated and, in return, we ran messages, collected mail, etc. which was a pretty fair exchange. I think we spent a very carefree and happy childhoodȂplaying among the wild woods and in the water. We learned to swim in a very unorthodox manner, much frowned upon today. We ™‘”‡Dz™ƒ–‡”™‹‰•Ǥdzˆ–‡”ƒ„‘—–ƒ™‡‡ǡ›†ƒ†Ž‡––Š‡ƒ‹”‘—– of the wings while pretending to hold us up. We were swimming! Not as our grandchildren swim, but strong and fair distances, and I can still navigate at 73 years of age.

On October 18, 1912 a new member of our family arrived in the ’‡”•‘ ‘ˆ ƒ Ž‘˜‡Ž› Ž‹––Ž‡ •‹•–‡”Ǥ  ‡ ‡Œ‘›‡† Dz‹†‹‰ Š‡”dz „› wheeling her in the carriage on our porch. As I was almost nine years older than Grace, and progressively older than my three brothers (Bruce, Paul and Murray), there were years when I ™ƒ• ƒ– ‘ŽŽ‡‰‹ƒ–‡ ƒ† ‘ –‘ —”•‡•ǯ ”ƒ‹‹‰  Š‘‘Žǡ „—– ˆ‘” ƒ while we had some good times and rather exciting experiences. Some of our amusements were like those of today and some of the activities have gone forever.

Since we had only coal-oil lamps and candles, except for the Šƒ‰‹‰ Dz‘Ž‡ƒ ƒ’dz ‹ –Š‡ Ž‹˜‹‰ ”‘‘-dining room, we gathered around the table in the evenings for games such as Dz‹–ǡdzDzƒ‡•ƒ†ƒ††‡”•ǡdzDz”‘‹‘Ž‡ǡdz‡– Ǥ –Š‡†ƒ›–‹‡™‡ played in the woodsȂnot too far afield because we could hear the wolves, although we did not see any. We spent much time in the water swimming and diving.

Today is May 21, 1977, and in exactly six months I shall be 74 years of age. The reason I mention my age is that Rolly is five months older than I, and we were in swimming for about half an hour. It is not entirely a credit to us for the weather is extremely warm for May. Swarms of dragonflies came out and hovered about dashing around. They eat mosquitoes and those dreadful tent caterpillars. I believe the Environment Department (sic) is now breeding the dragonflies to kill the pests.

To return to the activities of the pastȂone really great enjoyment was the gathering on the lake at our bay about sundown. There were many canoes and rowboats, very few motorboatsȂand most of them were gorgeous mahogany in- boards. Then we had a singsong until sunset.

There used to be a very small steamboat which could be hired for trips on the lake. This lake is over 300 miles in circumference. It is not a large lake but as its name shows, it is the Lake of Bays. So there were many lovely trips one could take. One that I remember was to Oxtongue Falls. There was ‰”‡ƒ– ”—•Š‹‰ ƒ„‘—– ‹ ’”‡’ƒ”ƒ–‹‘ ˆ‘” –Š‹• †ƒ›ǯ• ‡š —”•‹‘Ǥ There had to be picnic food prepared because the trip took hours, from morning through the late afternoon. The Oxtongue Falls is part of the Oxtongue River which flows down to Lake of Bays from Algonquin Park. Rhoda and I had the usual fun but ‘•–‘ˆƒŽŽ™‡Ž‹‡†–‘Dzƒ˜‹‰ƒ–‡dz•‹––‹‰‘–Š‡ƒ’–ƒ‹ǯ•‡‡ and steering the ship. Now remember that we had no navigable roads in those days and everything was delivered by steamboat. To my amazement and a bit of sorrow, I learned about fifteen ›‡ƒ”•ƒ‰‘–Šƒ–‘‡ƒ›”‡ƒ Šƒ”•Šǯ• ƒŽŽ•ȋš–‘‰—‡ ƒŽŽ•Ȍ„› way of Huntsville Road (Hwy. 35 and Hwy. 60) in less than twenty minutes.

Some changes have been made over the years. In the beginning, ™‡Šƒ†ƒDz ‘—‹–›’—’dzƒ†Dz‹ ‡Š‘—•‡ǤdzŠ‡’—’–‘‘ water up to a very large tank on a high standard, and members of each household were expected to pump one hundred strokes a day. Rhoda and I, and later on, Grace pumped whenever we had nothing better to do. Later, Jack Hollingworth and our brothers, Bruce, Paul and Murray took over the chore. Finally a need for electricity became apparent, so each owner installed his own electric pump and tankȂlater to put in pipes and have a direct flow of water.

Another community property was the ice house. Local residents supplied ice from the lake and buried it in tons of sawdust. We also stored fish and other perishables there.

I hated the job of getting ice. Sawdust (was) to be washed off the block, (making my) shoes full (of sawdust) and wet. The ice was put into the ice-box (on the porch), which dripped into a pan underneath. This frequently overflowed until Dad put a hole in both the box and the floor to let the water drain out. I suspect that the mice found this a convenience as well.

Then came electric light! Before this I had the job of cleaning the lamp chimneys, and it really was a pleasant jobȂusing left over paper and old towels and napkins for shining after blowing on the glass.

With the advent of electric lights came an electric refrigerator and a two burner small electric sto˜‡–Šƒ–Šƒ†‘Ž›Dz dzƒ† Dzdz •™‹– Š‡•Ǥ  Š‹• ‰ƒ˜‡ —• ‡‹–Š‡” • ‘” Š‡† ‘” „‘‹Ž‡† ‘˜‡” foods but it really was a convenience. We did not give up our wood burning stove. It was a treasure.

There was one memorable event that took place each summer at DorsetȂTHE REGATTA. Everyone attended. Rhoda, Grace and I took part in swimming races. I cannot remember any great glory won by usȂmaybe a first or second some years. Our brothers were the real performersȂdiving off the high bridge ƒ†‹”— ‡ǯ• ƒ•‡Ž‘•‹ng his front tooth. There were various canoe races but the one we loved was the war canoe race when –Š‡ „‘›• ˆ”‘ ‘„‹•‘ǯ• –‘”‡ ƒ‡ †‘™ ™‡ƒ”‹‰ –Š‡‹” butcher aprons and all four paddled for dear life only to come in last and then tip the canoe and swim to the finish line. The last time Mother and Dad went to a regatta, we took them down to the dock and set up chairs for them. Mother was 70 and Dad was 75 years of age. They had a glorious time among old friends and all of them cheering and screaming for their favorites. The regatta petered out because too many fine young camp people came and won all the events, and the local youth became discouraged.

Sometimes early in the morning when the mist had not yet risen, my father would waken me at about 5 a.m. and ask me to ‰‘ˆ‹•Š‹‰Ǥ ™‘—Ž†”‘™–Š‡„‘ƒ––‘ƒ„„‹–ǯ•ƒ›ƒ†•‘‡–‹‡• back too. Dad fished. Occasionally Dad would row and I caught fish. Once I caught two at onceȂone small one in the mouth of a Žƒ”‰‡” ‘‡Ǥ   •‡‡ –‘ Š‡ƒ” › ˆƒ–Š‡” ‡˜‡ ‘™ǡ Dz‘– •‘ ˆƒ•– girlieȂƒ Ž‹––Ž‡ ‘ –Š‡ ”‹‰Š– ȋ‘” Ž‡ˆ–Ȍ –Š‡”‡ǤdzȂDz”ƒ– ™‡ ƒ—‰Š– „‘––‘Ǥdz

Those were great experiences but fresh fish for breakfast is a long forgotten delicacy. On our return, the mist would rise and the sun appear in a burst of glory.

Mother and the other ladies had many porch parties and even dress-up parties as well. Their fun would seem rather old ˆƒ•Š‹‘‡†–‘†ƒ›Ǥ‘”‡ǯ•–Š‡’‹–›ˆ‘”–Š‡†‡ƒ”•‘—Ž•ƒ†‡— Š fun and excitement out of very simple amusements. They dressed in their very nicest afternoon gowns or else wore Dz ‘•–—‡•dzƒ†‡‘ˆ™Šƒ–‡˜‡”™ƒ•ƒ–Šƒ†ǡŽ‹‡’‡‘’Ž‡†‘‘ƒ cruise. For example, I remember Grandma Persch in a nighty and bonnet and carrying a baby bottle and Mother in knee „”‹– Š‡•ǡ•‘ •ƒ†ƒ†ǯ••Š‹”–†”‡••‡†ƒ•ƒŽ‹––Ž‡„‘›Ǥ

One day Rhoda and I planned a surprise party for Mother. I do not recall how successful the party was, nor whether Mother was surprised, but I do remember makin‰–Š‡Dz‘‡‡‰‰ ƒ‡Ǥdz The oven ceased to work at the precise time so Mrs. Peterson let us take the cake to her stove. We went over the rough ground without a spill and out of the oven with the cake not DzˆƒŽŽ‹‰Ǥdz —Ž‹ƒ”›•— ‡••ƒ–ͳͲ›‡ƒ”•‘ˆƒ‰‡Ǩ

There are some stories you will find hard to believe. One of our ƒ—•‡‡–• ™ƒ• Dz Ž‹„‹‰ –Š‡ ‘—–ƒ‹dz ™Š‹ Š ™ƒ• ‘– ƒ easy task for we did not have the road which is there now. On top of this hill was a Lookout Tower where a man kept watch for forest fires. Today the Lookout Tower is just for tourist pleasure and the fire watch is done by planes. Sometimes we descended the MOUNTAIN right down the steep faceȂquite a drop! Mother always directed us to wave a handkerchief when ™‡”‡ƒ Š‡†–Š‡–‘’‘ˆ–Š‡Š‹ŽŽǤ ǯ‘–•—”‡‘ˆŠ‡””‡ƒ•‘‹‰„—– it seemed to pleasure her.

Sometimes I, at about eleven years of age, would row the boat through Dorset and Johnny Cake Bay and up the river to the  ™Š‹ Š ™‘—Ž†–—” –Š‡ „‘ƒ– ƒ”‘—†Ǥ –ǯ• ”‡ƒŽŽ›ƒ ˜‡”› small rapids but then I was a very small girl. One experience was rather frightening. I had two passengers, Grace and Bruce. No life preserversȂno one used them in those days. Coming back from the river, it became very rough. We kept close to the •Š‘”‡‡š ‡’–ƒ–ƒ””›ǯ•‘‹–‘ ™Š‡”‡–Š‡™ƒ–‡”™ƒ•˜‡”› choppy and we had been warned to keep well out from the shore. The children were frightened and secretly so was I. So I –‘Ž†–Š‡–‘•‹‰ǤŠ‡›•–ƒ”–‡†•‹‰‹‰Dz ‡•—•‘˜‡•‡Ǥdz ǯ sure He did for we landed safely, even though we were quite tired and frightened. There was Mother with Grandma Hollingworth WAVING THEIR HANDKERCHIEFS. Talk about throwing out the life line!

There were three steamboats which sailed the lake from the portage to Dorset stopping at several resorts with passengers and freight. Some of the resorts are still in operation such as Dz ‘š ‘‹–ǡdz Dz‘‹– †‡ƒŽǡdz Dz‹‰™‹ǡdz Dz‘˜‹ŽŽ‡ǡdz Dz”‹––ƒ‹ƒǤdz They all had cheers like schools and when the boats arrived people gathered on the dock screaming their special cheer like football fans.

The steamboats were the Iroquois, the Mohawk Bell, and the Joe on Lake of Bays and the Algonquin and Ramona on Penninsular and Mary Lakes (sic). The two larger boats on our lake made trips to the main spots on the lake and the Joe went to out of the way spots and acted as a freighter. Mr. Rutherford was the purser on the Iroquois and he used to take us down the Portage to meet our Dad at the week end, NO CHARGE!

In the early days at Dorset there was seldom any fresh meat

ƒ˜ƒ‹Žƒ„Ž‡Ǥ‡ƒ–‡DzŠ‹ ‡ ƒ††‹‡‘‘ƒ•–dzƒ–ƒ›†‹‡”•Ǥ Never do I wish for Chicken Haddie again!! Occasionally a farmer named Sparks would bring fresh lamb to the village and Dz–Š‡™‘”†dz™ƒ•“—‹ Ž›•’”‡ƒ†ƒ”‘—†Ǥ ”ƒ†ƒ ‘ŽŽ‹‰™‘”–Š or Auntie Maude, Mrs. Peterson and Mother, would run to town with a plate in a bag and a small change purse. The ladies in those far gone days did not wear shorts or slacks or other comfortable clothing. No indeed! They wore long full skirts, petticoats and high laced shoes and were models of decorum. So it must have been difficult for them to act so impulsively and run down through the dust to claim their piece of meat. People used to enjoy Muskoka lamb, although some claimed it was really young venison. Whatever, it tasted delicious.

My father was in the grocery business, and he used to ship canned goods to us at the cottage. The cans were kept on a shelf over the kitchen door. When we went out to play we were –‘Ž† Dz‘ǯ– •Žƒ –Š‡ †‘‘”Ǥdz  ‡ŽŽǡ ™e nearly always did and down would come the tin cans. Luckily no one was ever hit.

Mother was terrified of cows, large or small, and called all of them bulls. She was not an athletic person, and one day on her way home from the village she found a herd of cattle sprawled ƒ ”‘•• –Š‡ ”‘ƒ† ‡ƒ” ‘ ƒǯ•Ǥ  ‘–Š‡” ™ƒ• ™‡ƒ”‹‰ ƒ RED sweater and in her opinion that was danger. So she hurried †‘™ –‘ –Š‡ Žƒ‡ •Š‘”‡ ‡ƒ” ƒ””›ǯ• ‘  ƒ† • ”ƒ„Ž‡† Š‡” way home along the rocky shore a distance of about a quarter of a mile. She was very tired and distressed when she got home, but I am afraid that Dad and all of us had a good laugh at her expense.

‘–Š‡”ǯ••‹•–‡” ƒ‡‡”• Š„‡ ƒ‡‹–‡”‡•–‡†‹•‘‡’”‘’‡”–› ƒ–‘”•‡–Ǥ –™ƒ•–Š‡Š‘–‡Ž‘™ƒ•DzŠ‡Ž˜‹”ƒǤdzfter much †‹• —••‹‘•Š‡„‘—‰Š–‹–ƒ†ƒ†ƒ†—– ”ƒ ‡ȋ ƒ‡ǯ•‘Ž†‡” sister) put some money into the venture. They promptly Šƒ‰‡† ‹–• ƒ‡ –‘ Dz ƒ‘•ƒ›‘dz ™Š‹ Š ‹• ƒ †‹ƒ ™‘”† ‡ƒ‹‰DzŠ‘•’‹–ƒŽ‹–›dz‘”•‘‡–Š‹‰Ž‹‡–Šƒ–ǤŠ‡”‡ƒ”‡‘

”‡•‘”–•‘™Ž‹‡–Š‡Dz ƒ‘•ƒ›‘ǤdzŠ‡–ƒ„Ž‡•‹–Š‡†‹‹‰”‘‘ were set for 8 to 12 people, who were guests, and the food was served family style. Great bowls of vegetables, platters of meat, mounds of bread and large pitchers of milk were on each table. Dz‡ ‘†•dz™‡”‡“—‹–‡–Š‡—•—ƒŽƒ†–Š‡ˆ‘‘†™ƒ•†‡Ž‹ ‹‘—•Ǥ

Š‡ ‘‘ ™ƒ• ƒ ™‘ƒ ƒ‡† Dz‹‹‡ǡdz ƒ† Š‡” Ž‹––Ž‡ ‰‹”Ž Dzƒ””‹‡dz ™ƒ• ‘‡ ‘ˆ ‘—” ˆƒ˜‘”‹–‡ ’Žƒ›ƒ–‡•Ǥ  Š‡ ™ƒ• ’‘’—Žƒ” with our Dorset friends. Carrie had a great collection of ghost and horror stories which lost nothing in her telling and her ‰‡•–—”‡•ǤŠ‡ ƒŽŽ‡†‘—”‘–Š‡”Dzƒ™ƒ™Ǥdz

Wednesday and Sunday were great and wonderful days for us. Minnie made ice cream for the dining room, and we were all welcome to stay for dinner those days. There was a croquet game on the hotel lawn, and one Sunday afternoon Rhoda and I ™‡”‡’Žƒ›‹‰™Š‡ƒ†‡Ž‡‰ƒ–‹‘ˆ”‘–Š‡Dz‘”†ǯ•ƒ›ŽŽ‹ƒ ‡dz arrived and said we were doing a very bad thing to be playing games on Sunday. Aunt Jane did not mince words in ordering them away, but we never played outside at the hotel on Sunday again.

Aunt Jane sold the hotel sometime around the early 1920s and the next year it burned to the ground. I have learned from various people about the dreadful fire. Cathy Nimo (McKey) told me that she was a little girl at the time but she remembers vividly the horror of the day. She was not permitted to touch the window glass of their home because of the heat. There were only volunteer firemen but they did a brave and splendid job of saving the village of Dorset. Some years later, Vi Samson and her husband bought the property and built lovely cabins and a dining room on it. It is a very popular resort to this day. On September 8th, 1928 Frank Roelofson (whom I call Rolly) an†  ™‡”‡ ƒ””‹‡†Ǥ  ‡ ƒ—•‡ ‘ˆ –Š‡ –‹‡ ‘ˆ ›‡ƒ”ǡ ‘ŽŽ›ǯ• Šƒ› fever, and the fact that we had very little money, my parents let us go to the cottage for our honeymoon. It rained every day, or part of every day, for the whole two weeks. However, we swam,

ƒ‘‡†ǡ Š‹‡† ƒ„‘—– –Š‡ ‘—–”›•‹†‡ǡ ƒ† –Šƒ– „‡‰ƒ ‘ŽŽ›ǯ• love affair with Dorset. He often went fishing with my Dad and my brother Bruce. At one visit their main occupation was installing the rustic stone steps down to the boat house and the lake. They are still in use although we had a stone mason mend them in later years. Just last year (1976), our son Dick built a very useful railing down those same steps.

There was a gap in our visits to Dorset. Dick was born on June 26, 1930, and in July we took him to Dorset with Jim and Janet Panabaker. Then Jane came along on November 6, 1933; the depression hit us pretty hard. So we had no money for traveling and no car. However, we had many happy days with our children going hiking, pi ‹ ‹‰ ƒ† DzŒ—•– †‘‹‰ –Š‹‰• –‘‰‡–Š‡”dz‹ ƒŽ–ƒ†–Š‡•—””‘—†‹‰ƒ”‡ƒǤ

The war came to our family as a personal disruption and horror when Rolly went away with the Highland Light Infantry and was gone five long years. My Dad took the children and me to the cottage several times and the children really had a good time learning about the natural joys of the woods and the lakes.

After Dad died, mother kept the cottage for a while but one day –Š‡‘Ž†‘—–•‹†‡–‘‹Ž‡–ȋDz’‡”Š—•ƒdz™‡ ƒŽŽ‡†‹–Ȍ ‘ŽŽƒ’•‡†ƒ† my brother Paul arranged for George Burke to install a flush toilet on the porch. Paul built a room to enclose it. That was a very expensive operation and Mother decided that she could no longer afford to keep the cottage. Rolly, bless him, decided that he could afford the purchase.

Since our ownership, we have had a new roof and the cottage painted. Also it is now insulated and has some electric heat, which makes for more comfort as we grow older. Another addition is the shower, also installed on the porch. This room is now storeroom, dry room for wood storage, bathroom, shower ”‘‘ǡ„‘‹Ž‡””‘‘ǥ‘–‡Ž‡‰ƒ–„—–—•‡ˆ—Žƒ†‹‡‡’‹‰™‹–Š our desire to maintain the old fashioned appearance of the house.

Now our great joy is having our grandchildren come up to visit —•ƒ†Š‡Ž’ ”ƒ†’ƒDz‘’‡dz–Š‡ ‘––ƒ‰‡Ǥ—”™‹•Šƒ†Š‘’‡‹• that many happy years may yet be in store for us and our children and grandchildren.

The fence at the roadside of the property was built by Dick with ‘ŽŽ›ǯ• ƒ••‹•–ƒ ‡Ǥ  ‹  ™ƒ• ’”‡•‹†‡– ‘ˆ –Š‡ š‡–‡” ‘†‡‘ Association and a farmer gave him a large number of split rails. So Dick brought some up to build my dream fence and gate of split rails. A notable feature of this fence is that one of the logs has a date carved on it of 1896.

Paul and Jane gave us a splendid Christmas gift one year. They had our large porch screened. So now we can use the porch at all times without mosquitoes, blackflies, coons, and skunks!!!

The new sign on the gate is made of a beautiful piece of cherry ™‘‘†ǡ ™Š‹ Š ‹  ‰ƒ˜‡ –‘ —• ™‹–Š –Š‡ ƒ‡ Dz dz carved on it. However, in the early days, it was the custom to have significant names for cottages. Ours was caŽŽ‡†Dzƒ‡ƒŠ ‘‘dz™Š‹ Š‹• •—’’‘•‡†–‘ „‡ †‹ƒ ˆ‘”Dz‡•–‹‰Žƒ ‡ǡdzŠ‡ ‡–‡”•‘ǯ•ƒ‡†–Š‡‹”•Dzƒƒƒ›•‡‡dz™Š‹ Š–Š‡›„‡Ž‹‡˜‡† ‡ƒ– Dz‡•–‹‰ Žƒ ‡dz ƒ† –Š‡ ˆƒ‘—• ‘Ž† ƒ ƒ ‘–‡Ž ™ƒ• ƒ‡†–‘‡ƒDz‘‘•dz‘”‹Ž† ‡‡•‡Ǥdz

Our childhood playmates at Dorset (included) Ellen McKay (Mrs. Orris Avery). Her father had a lumber yard with his brother Alex whose daughters Violet, Margaret and Myrtle (wonderful and famous cook in later years) were also our friends. I remember Vivian, Phyllis and Mildred McKey as well ƒ†Š›ŽŽ‹•‹•‘™ƒ’ƒ–‹‡–‘ˆ›•‘‹Žƒ™ǯ•ǡ”Ǥƒ—ŽƒŽ•ŠǤ Other friends were the Burkes. George became our plumber, electrician and a very good friend. He just retired this year. We remember too Hector McKay who did our roofing on our ‘––ƒ‰‡Ǥ‘”‡‰”‘™—’ˆ”‹‡†•™‡”‡–Š‡‘ ƒǯ•ǡ”‹šƒ† her sisters, chiefly Nell Dollar. Stan and Ellen Booker were great friends. Stan was the Department Fire Chief for the district around Dorset. It was he who suggested that our Dz‘—–ƒ‹dz „‡ –Š‡ ‘”•‡– ‡–‡‹ƒŽ ”‘Œ‡ –Ǥ  ‘™ ‹– ‹• ƒ „‡ƒ—–‹ˆ—Ž’Žƒ‡†’‹ ‹ ’ƒ”™‹–ŠƒDz‘‘‘—–dz–‘™‡”‘–Š‡–‘’ of it.

Š‡‘„‹•‘ǯ•–‘”‡Šƒ•„‡‡n a rendezvous for many visitors over the years and we count the Robinsons among our friends. ‡•ƒ†ƒ”Œȋ•‹ ȌŽƒ›–‘Šƒ†ƒ•–‘”‡‘–Š‡Dz‡ƒ”dz•‹†‡‘ˆ–Š‡ bridge which is now owned and operated by their son Jack and his wife Irene. We buy our gas for the boat at their marina (thus dividing our spending).

My youngest brother Murray is not mentioned very often here. That is because when he was growing up, I had left for Galt to –ƒ‡—”•‡ǯ•”ƒ‹‹‰ƒ––Š‡ ƒŽ– ‡‡”ƒŽ ‘•’‹–ƒŽǤ‘™Š‡Š‡ was old en‘—‰Š ˆ‘” Dz†ƒ”‹‰ †‘dz  Šƒ† Ž‡ˆ– Š‘‡Ǥ  Š‡ ‘‡ important remembrance of his life at Dorset was that he attended both the Anglican and Presbyterian Sunday Schools. Murray was killed in action during the war 1939/1945. There is a gold star beside his name on the Honour Roll of both churches.

After we had the cottage about five years, Rolly bought a lovely little motor boat with 50 H.P. motor. This has given us many happy hours taking trips exploring the many bays of this beautiful Lake of Bays. We still enjoy using the canoe and rowboat around our own bay, and I especially like rowing Rolly along the shore since that is my only accomplishment boatwise.

No doubt I have omitted many important stories of the past, but these are some tales of our wonderful years at our beloved Dorset.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Photographs: Some photographs were credited in the booklet. Many others were contributed by the following families and organizations:

Dillenberger Dorset Heritage Museum Gilchrist Stumpf

Writers and Contributors:

John Clayton Daphne Curtis Paul Dillenberger Suzanne Dillenberger Tara Gilchrist Jonathan Prasse Mildred Roelofson Charles Stumpf Gloria Woodside Michael Woodside

Appreciation:

A special thanks to the Lake of Bays Heritage Foundation for initiating, funding and producing this booklet. The foundation would like to thank Gloria Woodside for overseeing this project and Paul Dillenberger for editing the contents.