The Legend

It was early June, in the year nineteen hundred and eleven,
when Jonathon Wylde Green arrived among white hills
of rock that rings like a bell (La Cloche) when struck.
His heavily laden wagon was drawn by two lathered 
Clydesdale mares.
It was a long rough journey from Kingston.
He was pleased to find this place on the banks of the West River.
A forest of good lumber: old  Oaks, tall White Pine, Ash, Cedar, Spruce and other trees, he had no name for yet.
By the falling of the mountain maple leaves, he had completed
a small post and beam cabin; with a fine stone chimney
and fireplace to hearten himself on long winter evenings.
The late October sun was perched on the ridge of Heaven's Gate, when the first visitor arrived: Running Fox, a local Ojibwe hunter was following the river westward to his camp on Lake Evangeline, when he came upon the new lodge, alight with orange in every window. A large open fire of Sugar Maple was blazing on the stone hearth, warming the mountain nightfall; Jonathon had prepared pheasant soup, fried potatoe cakes, and hot cider.
Running Fox was made welcome and encouraged to participate
in supper. He stayed and gave Jonathon the gift of a brace of partridge from his laden belt. They ate and drank together. Running Fox told Jonathon that two white prodpectors had recently found gold just east of here.
In a single evening, these two strangers came to bridge the great divide that still separates many others a century later. They came to understand, to see their similarities and to respect their differences, that evening.
Both men were hunters of visions, followers of dreams,
home here among the wildlife and the spirits of the white quartzite hills, and the virgin forest.
Ever after, among his people, the lumbermen, the railway workers, or the gold miners; Running Fox referred to
Jonathon's Camp as"Widgawa",       a friendly meeting place;
and so, we are Widgawa Lodge!
More than a  century of Canadian History has come and gone,
and Widgawa is still here to welcome you!