The weather was shotty, the road icy, the ol’ family front wheel drive was packed with coolers, a 70 pound German Shepherd, cold stout, eye masks for some spa-like R&R, bathing suits, and a ton of comfies, as my family calls them; baggy joggers, thermal socks, oversized hoodies, and toques – the quintessential uniform for mid-winter lounging in a time when the days are short and dark, the wind stark and brisk, and the cheery falsetto of new year optimism and enthusiasm is in the metaphorical rear view mirror.
We’re headed to the tip of the Bruce Peninsula for a weekend of immoral charcuterie-centric gluttony, hot tubbing, backwoods adventuring, firestarting, and perhaps the odd cocktail. When we open the door, I flip on the oven as we unload our cache of goods into bedrooms. In goes three grocery store par-baked pizzas, the TV turns on, the gas fireplace underneath the wrought iron spiral staircase roars to life. The smell of melting cheese and pepperoni fills the cottage and mixes with the cold air from the left-open front door.
We lay claim to our rooms and put on our lounge fatigues, just in time for the cheapo pies to be crisped up. We plop down into reclining faux leather chairs with a homemade, pre-mixed margarita lovingly shaken from an upcycled pickle jar (if you know, you know) as the title credits for Kung Fu Panda 4 come across the screen, our Friday night cabin cinema feature. You may not agree with it, but this, my friends, is parenting at its absolute peak. Quote me.
We’re here on official business, having been asked to take part in one of Rrampt’s favourite digital departments wherein we’re given the opportunity to rave about a regional retreat. This is the Cape Miles Retreat in mid-winter—a Grey Bruce sanctuary managed by Cozy Up Stays at the frozen intersection of Myles Drive and Cape Hurd Road.
If you haven’t been to this neck of the woods in the dead of winter, you need to consider making the drive. When the Northern Bruce sheds its summer skin, it reveals a skeletal, ice-blasted landscape where the wind howls like a banshee through the cedar brakes and you can count the number of people you see over the course of two days on one hand.
The cathedral ceilings inside this rustic cedar-clad haven don’t just offer space; they provide a buffer against the beautiful silence of the Tobermory “dark sky” winter. Four bedrooms stand ready to house your pack of seekers.
The hot tub on the new deck is no longer a luxury; it’s a steaming cauldron of respite, a bubbling defiance against the chill of the Great White North. The upstairs master is particularly charming, boasting a large ensuite bath with a Jacuzzi tub and a low-slung roofline addition that offers a cozy space to read or enjoy a morning coffee in front of the second fireplace. Downstairs, the kids are beyond stoked by the bunk beds.
We wake up on day two to 15 centimeters of fresh snow and explore the bush with the dog in tow. We make our way to the shoreline and creep closer to the blue ice shelf and crystal clear, steely water. The craggy white limestone in the deep looks very different from a July visit, but familiar just the same.
I gather a few spherical ice chunks for a cocktail back at the cabin and pour myself a Mexican rum and coke garnished with Fathom Strait ice as my daughter takes on a crossword puzzle and my son colours and doodles. No screens, no music, just a much-appreciated interlude to our normally hockey-dominated weekends.
That afternoon, eager for another round outside, we lit a bonfire and spent a couple of hours gathering kindling and birch bark to fight off the heavy snow falling down on us. Unable to totally shut off from hockey, we watch the Habs play the Red Wings that evening and rock a skin care routine that’d make a Greek goddess envious. Oh, the opulence!
Mid intermission, my wife turns to me and says, “this has been really nice. I didn’t know I needed a little getaway until we got here.” And hey – I couldn’t agree more. Those are the most appreciated, memorable experiences – the ones you didn’t seek out intentionally. Cape Miles for us, was a perfect, welcome opportunity to press pause on the real world, while staying relatively close to home.
It’s a place for deep-winter solace and meditation, supported by high-speed WiFi, a great coffee maker, and a fully outfitted kitchen for those not so easily swayed by a 2-for-1 in-store made pizza party. Cape Miles was *chef’s kiss* just what the doctor ordered. Pack heavy, drive slow, and keep your eyes on the treeline. Tobermory in the winter absolutely slaps.
If you’re looking for a retreat in our neck of the woods, Cozy Up Stays has an impressive roster of vacation rentals from Sauble to the Tub. Check them out on their website or socials and tell ‘em Rrampt sent you.
Words and photos by Nelson Phillips
