A looooong time ago, when Babe and the boys and I first got here, this whole land was covered with virgin forest. The trees were so thick, you couldn’t even swing an ax without hittin’ another tree. We needed some roads, so we could get in there and start loggin’.
I remembered how much Babe loved maple syrup. He was crazy for it! So here's what we did.
As the story goes, these monster-sized eating machines zeroed in on unsuspecting picnickers at the Jenkins Park buzzing in like a herd of chainsaws and stealing every last morsel.
They haven't been seen nor heard in quite awhile. Probably winging their way around the globe, following the warmer weather where picnickers' packs are plentiful.
The legend goes...
In August 2009, Paul and Babe hauled his logging sled into Pequot Lakes via the Paul Bunyan Scenic Byway to get it repaired for winter logging.
Well, his name was Timothy Burr, a good friend of mine. He was Johnny Inkslinger’s assistant, and he was a curious sort.
Many years ago, Paul had encouraged his cooks to move a little faster while cooking. Paul thought that with more speed, their hearts would beat faster and they would feel better. This would result in even better tasting meals for all the loggers at camp. And so the first Pots and Pans Drum Line came into being.
Everyone has heard of Paul Bunyan and his many adventures and marvelous deeds. You probably know about his birth and how when he was three weeks old he rolled around so much in his sleep that he knocked down five square miles of standing timber. I'm sure you've heard of the time he killed the giant mosquitos that were stealing his cattle and how he and Babe the Blue Ox dug a few ponds for drinking water that today we call the Great Lakes. Certainly you’ve heard of his pancake griddle that was greased by six boys skating across it with slabs of bacon on their feet.
I remember it like it was yesterday. I believe his first return came just after the winter of "58". It was the coldest darn winter I can remember and everyone I know went through at least 10 pair of Long Johns between October and April.
I remember the time I came across a guy camping on the shore of Whitefish Lake. He was a fancypants little fella, and looked kinda out of place up here in the wild North Woods. When I asked him his name, I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Said it was Zebulon Lacylegs, but I could call him Zeb.
Paul L. Bunyan
Babe, the Blue Ox was a retriever at heart, and couldn't resist the urge to search for my lost golf balls. No matter which course I golfed at, the balls always seemed to end up here in the lake we named after my burly blue buddy.
Paul L. Bunyan
Known for outpacing snowmobiles, and even the deer, 'Legs' was a regular winner at the Breezy Point Radar Runs.
Sometimes he'd just keep on runnin' straight past the finish line and keep on a goin' for days. Babe usually trudged and snorted, dutifully following along, ready to carry 'spent-but-content Beautiful Legs Benson' back to the loggin' camp on his burly blue back.
