It is now better than a dozen years since Cache Lake Country was first published and in that fragment of time the world has seen great changes. We have watched the dawning of the Atomic Age, bringing new triumphs for man, new hopes and also new and haunting fears.
But Cache Lake has not changed. Serene, remote, untouched, it lives on as always, a symbol of the beauty, simplicity and natural honesty of the Northern wilderness in which it lies, the abiding place of peace and contentment.
In Cache Lake Country I have recounted not only the happy and rewarding experiences of life in the North, but the deep satisfaction and excitement of discovering how inventive and resourceful man can be when his living depends upon making the most effective use of whatever comes to hand. He must learn—often with only an axe for a tool—to build himself a home. He must know where to look for and how to procure food if he is to survive, and he must learn to find his way through a world of trackless forest.
There is more that he must learn, for now and then he must walk alone, trying to conquer fears that he has never known before—fear of illness, fear of death and, now and then, fear of the motives of men. If the man of wilderness thinks of security at all, it is as something that lies in the future and has to be earned. He would never dream of demanding security in advance. He has no fear of failure, for he thinks of failure as one of many steps in the business of getting ahead.
Many readers of Cache Lake Country have told me that its simple philosophy—our way of thinking to get the best out of life—has been helpful in easing the tensions of the hard fast pace of modern civilization. Many, too, have discovered for themselves the satisfaction and pleasure of developing skills of the hand by working out various ideas and projects in the book. And no less pleasing has been their delight in joining the spirit on the trails and on the waterways and in sharing the warmth of life at Cache.
“Cache” is the woodsman’s term for a safe and secure place in which to store valuable possessions, food and equipment, against the day of need. In Cache Lake Country are stored the best and most treasured memories of my life, a keeping place of conviction and contentment from which I may draw when I feel the need.
There is a Cache Lake for everyone, but it won’t be found beside a four-land highway nor will there be a clear trail to lead to it. If it is worth finding, it will be far from the sights and sounds of civilization, quiet and clear, and without pretension. Unless you know what to look for you may pass it by.
To my great satisfaction Cache Lake Country has lived on through the years and appears to have found its special place in the affections of readers old and young. I greet this new Wilderness Edition with pleasure, and hope that it may find new readers in years to come who will share the ageless rewards and riches that I found at Cache Lake in time gone by.
—John J. Rowlands
1959