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A Wedding in the Woods


A trout stream runs through the property at Seven Pines Lodge. Photo courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge.With hail peppering my window and Valentine's Day close at hand, my eye is drawn to a most unusual wedding invitation that I keep on my desk to warm my heart on days like this. It is a round slice of wood cut with precision from a birch wood log, the bark still attached. Wood-burned into its smooth surface is the following message:

 

The honour of your presence is requested
to celebrate the marriage of
Erin to Endre
at the "Wedding in the Woods"
on Saturday, the twenty-sixth of September
nineteen hundred and ninety-eight
at four o'clock in the afternoon
Seven Pines Lodge
Lewis, Wisconsin

Endre is my nephew. He and Erin, his then-fiancée, now wife, love the outdoors. As one might infer from the invitation, they decided to get married in a natural setting. After an extended search, they came across Seven Pines Lodge. It was ideal. The main building was constructed almost 100 years ago, and is a national historic landmark. Some of the pines on the 65-acre property are 300 years old. Coursing through the land is a brisk spring-fed trout stream. On both aspects of the stream are rolling, green hills that descend gently to the water's edge.

They loved the resort and reserved the date.

Filled with enthusiasm, they called the owner and expressed the many ways in which he could enhance the place and promote business. He listened patiently. "I don't know who you are," he said, "but I know a great place to have lunch."

Buildings on the property date back to 1903. Photo courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge.Face to face with the owner, Endre and Erin again extolled the virtues of the property, and handed him a list of their ideas.

He read down the list, then glanced up. "I'm not overjoyed with current management. How would you like to manage the place?"

They looked at each other and nodded in unison.

"When could you start?" he asked.

"Immediately," she said.

"For the time being, I'll keep my day job," he said.

So that's how it began. Some time later, another issue came up when the proprietor said to them, "You'll be putting your heart and soul into this place. Would you like to own it?"

"Yes!" they shouted in concert. Endre shot a glance at Erin, and they quickly regained their composure.

But the die was cast. Within a short time they had worked out the terms.Later, when they were alone, Erin exclaimed that she couldn't think of a better way to start their married life, "than to be married in a landmark, and one that you own!"

An energetic young couple and a magnificent old lodge – two marriages were simultaneously made in heaven.

****

The relaxed splendor of the dining hall. Photo courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge.On the afternoon before the wedding, the weather was beautiful as my wife, Ilka, and I set off from Minneapolis for Seven Pines Lodge. When we arrived, relatives were descending upon the scene from far and wide, eagerly greeting each other and the two principals involved. To launch the festivities, there was a pig roast that evening. It was a lively affair, with a blue grass band – which included the bride – giving a zesty performance.

But after that things did not go smoothly. Though the stars were shining brilliantly as we retired for bed, within an hour the inn and all its land were inundated by a tempest of legendary proportions. It was a rogue storm that struck the lodge and its collection of buildings. Properties nearby were virtually untouched.

First came lightening, thunder, and wind, then pounding rain and finally hail of golf ball to baseball dimensions. In the aftermath, those who gazed out the windows viewed an eerie, wintry landscape. As far as the eye could see, the ground was blanketed with white, the hail stones that would melt and disappear before morning. The following day every vehicle, including ours, showed evidence of the storm's fury. From a new black BMW to an old gray Lincoln, each had scores of small indentations from the pummeling deluge.

But the night was calm thereafter, and our room was cozy. With clouds still hanging low, the early light of day intermingled gradually with the darkness of night, causing dim illumination in this forested setting. Oblivious to any damage outside, it felt comfortable to stay in bed. With no wall receptacle for my computer, no stock market to follow, no AOL or email, no radio, TV, or newspaper, why get up? I felt like a square peg being invited cunningly into a round hole, and I was beginning to mellow and harmonize with the surroundings.

Then we heard raking. Ilka got up and went to the window. Endre and Erin were raking debris. The day before the property had been immaculate. But leaves that were preparing to fall as winter approached were hastened on their way by the storm. Now, as Ilka looked out, there were no driveways, no pathways between buildings, and no grass. Leaves, pine needles, and pinecones formed a thick carpet everywhere. Canopies and tents for the wedding were ponderously inverted by rainwater. The bride and groom were toiling bravely to restore order to their world.

A footbridge beckons walkers, even in the winter months. Photo courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge."Stop working!" called Ilka. "It's your wedding day! We'll all pitch in and help!" One by one other windows opened and would-be sleepers, now awake, admonished the two to stop. The mother and father of the bride were soon laboring, then others, and finally everyone, to rectify the disorder nature had wrought.

The morning went slowly and was dismal. The strong disturbance had drenched and shrouded everything, and had cast a pall over the day. The ebullient Endre admitted later that – even on his wedding day – his spirits had temporarily been dampened.But the storm might have been a blessing in disguise. Some members of the wedding party who had not spoken with each other for years now toiled side by side and got to know each other all over again. Despite the ominous clouds, spirits rose as the morning wore on. Roadways and walkways were eventually cleared, sweepings hauled away by the truckload, and canopies were freed of their water and leafy debris. But it took most of the day.

In the lodge's warm and bright kitchen, French chef Christiane Caille and his daughter, Colette, worked tirelessly to prepare a feast for 200. At one point he dispatched a helper to go to town and purchase a bottle of Martel cognac to flambé the steaks.

Not only did the bride-to-be work outside, but she spent time dealing with staff and carrying on business as manager of the lodge. At noon she called a staff meeting, and met with eight employees in the conference room. Wait a minute. Was this the woman to be betrothed in just four hours?

Here comes the bride! Photo courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge.Shortly after noon, the skies began to brighten. By 2:30 the wedding party was in formal attire and ready for photos. When they gathered on the stone bridge for more photos, patches of blue sky were occasionally visible. At 3:30 wedding guests began arriving and streaming down the hillside toward the water. At 4 o'clock the sun broke vigorously through the few straggling clouds at the moment the wedding began.

It began majestically. A master of Irish bagpipes and a drummer, both in kilts, marched slowly along the edge of the stream and filled the valley with rhythmical and haunting music. Then came the wedding party, parents, brothers, friends, the groom, and finally the bride and her father. The service took place at an altar by the coursing water in a setting as beautiful as anyone could envision, sunlight streaming through to touch the red hair of the groom and the black hair of the bride. Ripples of light, reflecting off the shimmering water, capered against trees across the brook. When the two were pronounced husband and wife, the hillside, now rampant with guests, erupted in joyful applause. It was magical. It might have been Brigadoon. The nuptial party moved across a bridge to a festive pavilion, where champagne flowed, the married couple greeted guests, and the celebration began in earnest.

The feast was served under canopies. And it was a feast to behold: steak flambé (that bottle of cognac was put to good use), fresh trout from the brook filleted by the bride's family, wild rice mingled with vegetables, miniature French pastries, and accompanying wines.

After dinner the music began. A band that included the groom's brother had traveled all the way from Tennessee, and played on a stage at the water's edge. At midnight the party moved to the main room of the lodge, where more food and drink was proffered, trays of cheeses and meats, hard rolls and fresh bread, hot coffee and tea, all served before a roaring fire in a massive stone fireplace. Music, dancing, and song commenced, boisterous and jubilant, reverberating throughout, shivering every timber of the ancient Seven Pines Lodge until 3 in the morning. Sleep was not possible – I can relate from experience – even with earplugs. But no one minded. The Log Bungalow at Seven Pines. Photo Courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge.The next morning, after a sumptuous breakfast prepared by the bride herself, guests began departing, happy and sad at the same time. The occasion had been extraordinary, but now it was over.

The wedding day began disastrously with an aberration of nature. It ended with a restoration of order, and the most beautiful ceremony imaginable. The event symbolized life, from its beginnings, with a young couple starting a family and careers, to the end, with grandparents nearing the completion of their existence.

I've decided to keep that distinctive birch wood invitation as a reminder. This was not just a wedding in the woods. It was a celebration of life. It was the essence of life itself.

Editor's Note: This is a companion article to "A Christmas in the Woods," published in the December 1999 issue of Victoria Brooks Greatest Escapes Travel Webzine.

When You Go:

Seven Pines Lodge

1098 340th Avenue, Frederic, Wisconsin 54837
Ph: 715-653-2323
Fax: 715-653-2236
Email: flyfish@sevenpineslodge.com

Information regarding activities, dining, reservations, and directions can be found at www.sevenpineslodge.com/index.htm

Seven Pines will arrange your trip from the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport. Travel by luxury van takes about 1.5 hours. The Lodge will organize a charter flight to get you there in half an hour.

Later, when they were alone, Erin exclaimed that she couldn't think of a better way to start their married life, "than to be married in a landmark, and one that you own!"

An energetic young couple and a magnificent old lodge – two marriages were simultaneously made in heaven.

****

The relaxed splendor of the dining hall. Photo courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge.On the afternoon before the wedding, the weather was beautiful as my wife, Ilka, and I set off from Minneapolis for Seven Pines Lodge. When we arrived, relatives were descending upon the scene from far and wide, eagerly greeting each other and the two principals involved. To launch the festivities, there was a pig roast that evening. It was a lively affair, with a blue grass band – which included the bride – giving a zesty performance.

But after that things did not go smoothly. Though the stars were shining brilliantly as we retired for bed, within an hour the inn and all its land were inundated by a tempest of legendary proportions. It was a rogue storm that struck the lodge and its collection of buildings. Properties nearby were virtually untouched.

First came lightening, thunder, and wind, then pounding rain and finally hail of golf ball to baseball dimensions. In the aftermath, those who gazed out the windows viewed an eerie, wintry landscape. As far as the eye could see, the ground was blanketed with white, the hail stones that would melt and disappear before morning. The following day every vehicle, including ours, showed evidence of the storm's fury. From a new black BMW to an old gray Lincoln, each had scores of small indentations from the pummeling deluge.

But the night was calm thereafter, and our room was cozy. With clouds still hanging low, the early light of day intermingled gradually with the darkness of night, causing dim illumination in this forested setting. Oblivious to any damage outside, it felt comfortable to stay in bed. With no wall receptacle for my computer, no stock market to follow, no AOL or email, no radio, TV, or newspaper, why get up? I felt like a square peg being invited cunningly into a round hole, and I was beginning to mellow and harmonize with the surroundings.

Then we heard raking. Ilka got up and went to the window. Endre and Erin were raking debris. The day before the property had been immaculate. But leaves that were preparing to fall as winter approached were hastened on their way by the storm. Now, as Ilka looked out, there were no driveways, no pathways between buildings, and no grass. Leaves, pine needles, and pinecones formed a thick carpet everywhere. Canopies and tents for the wedding were ponderously inverted by rainwater. The bride and groom were toiling bravely to restore order to their world.

A footbridge beckons walkers, even in the winter months. Photo courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge."Stop working!" called Ilka. "It's your wedding day! We'll all pitch in and help!" One by one other windows opened and would-be sleepers, now awake, admonished the two to stop. The mother and father of the bride were soon laboring, then others, and finally everyone, to rectify the disorder nature had wrought.

The morning went slowly and was dismal. The strong disturbance had drenched and shrouded everything, and had cast a pall over the day. The ebullient Endre admitted later that – even on his wedding day – his spirits had temporarily been dampened.But the storm might have been a blessing in disguise. Some members of the wedding party who had not spoken with each other for years now toiled side by side and got to know each other all over again. Despite the ominous clouds, spirits rose as the morning wore on. Roadways and walkways were eventually cleared, sweepings hauled away by the truckload, and canopies were freed of their water and leafy debris. But it took most of the day.

In the lodge's warm and bright kitchen, French chef Christiane Caille and his daughter, Colette, worked tirelessly to prepare a feast for 200. At one point he dispatched a helper to go to town and purchase a bottle of Martel cognac to flambé the steaks.

Not only did the bride-to-be work outside, but she spent time dealing with staff and carrying on business as manager of the lodge. At noon she called a staff meeting, and met with eight employees in the conference room. Wait a minute. Was this the woman to be betrothed in just four hours?

Here comes the bride! Photo courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge.Shortly after noon, the skies began to brighten. By 2:30 the wedding party was in formal attire and ready for photos. When they gathered on the stone bridge for more photos, patches of blue sky were occasionally visible. At 3:30 wedding guests began arriving and streaming down the hillside toward the water. At 4 o'clock the sun broke vigorously through the few straggling clouds at the moment the wedding began.

It began majestically. A master of Irish bagpipes and a drummer, both in kilts, marched slowly along the edge of the stream and filled the valley with rhythmical and haunting music. Then came the wedding party, parents, brothers, friends, the groom, and finally the bride and her father. The service took place at an altar by the coursing water in a setting as beautiful as anyone could envision, sunlight streaming through to touch the red hair of the groom and the black hair of the bride. Ripples of light, reflecting off the shimmering water, capered against trees across the brook. When the two were pronounced husband and wife, the hillside, now rampant with guests, erupted in joyful applause. It was magical. It might have been Brigadoon. The nuptial party moved across a bridge to a festive pavilion, where champagne flowed, the married couple greeted guests, and the celebration began in earnest.

The feast was served under canopies. And it was a feast to behold: steak flambé (that bottle of cognac was put to good use), fresh trout from the brook filleted by the bride's family, wild rice mingled with vegetables, miniature French pastries, and accompanying wines.

After dinner the music began. A band that included the groom's brother had traveled all the way from Tennessee, and played on a stage at the water's edge. At midnight the party moved to the main room of the lodge, where more food and drink was proffered, trays of cheeses and meats, hard rolls and fresh bread, hot coffee and tea, all served before a roaring fire in a massive stone fireplace. Music, dancing, and song commenced, boisterous and jubilant, reverberating throughout, shivering every timber of the ancient Seven Pines Lodge until 3 in the morning. Sleep was not possible – I can relate from experience – even with earplugs. But no one minded. The Log Bungalow at Seven Pines. Photo Courtesy of Seven Pines Lodge.The next morning, after a sumptuous breakfast prepared by the bride herself, guests began departing, happy and sad at the same time. The occasion had been extraordinary, but now it was over.

The wedding day began disastrously with an aberration of nature. It ended with a restoration of order, and the most beautiful ceremony imaginable. The event symbolized life, from its beginnings, with a young couple starting a family and careers, to the end, with grandparents nearing the completion of their existence.

I've decided to keep that distinctive birch wood invitation as a reminder. This was not just a wedding in the woods. It was a celebration of life. It was the essence of life itself.

Editor's Note: This is a companion article to "A Christmas in the Woods," published in the December 1999 issue of Victoria Brooks Greatest Escapes Travel Webzine.

When You Go:

Seven Pines Lodge

1098 340th Avenue, Frederic, Wisconsin 54837
Ph: 715-653-2323
Fax: 715-653-2236
Email: flyfish@sevenpineslodge.com

Information regarding activities, dining, reservations, and directions can be found at www.sevenpineslodge.com/index.htm

Seven Pines will arrange your trip from the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport. Travel by luxury van takes about 1.5 hours. The Lodge will organize a charter flight to get you there in half an hour.