Thursday, September 24, 2020
My belated sympathies to the family of Nick Pipoli. I first met Nick and Isabelle when our family stayed at Camp Millwood in 1959. Father and I made at least one other trip there in the early 1960’s for spring bear and trout. In later adventures to more northerly locations, we passed by Millwood several times, always hanging off the Algoma’s passenger car platform to catch a glimpse of the Pipoli’s and activity at Mile 132.
To this wide-eyed city lad, Nick was nothing less than a living Jack London, driving a jeep instead of a sled dog team. Sixty years later I can still see in my mind’s eye Nick’s grinning face as he shared tales of trapping and hunting in the Agawa country. If he had written a book about his life in the bush, I would be taking it off my library shelf every so often to re-read it. Thank you, Nick, for the indelible memories.