Among the branches at Eternal Springs

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 30/11/2024 (538 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Eternal Springs has no sign on the highway and all roads in and out are gravel.

This little western Manitoba park, tucked into a valley full of trees, exists on an “if-you-know-you-know” basis — and until this fall, I didn’t know.

On Thanksgiving Monday I went to Sioux Valley Dakota Nation to catch up with Elder Eugene Ross.

Eugene and I had connected a couple years ago for a different article, and I was there for a visit. He suggested we get in my truck and go for a drive. “I want to take you to Eternal Springs,” he said. This was a bit of a coincidence, because I had been there two weeks earlier with my parents. That was my first visit.

Known by many for its picturesque 20-metre swinging bridge, Eternal Springs is located approximately 275 kilometres west of Winnipeg, and about 10 km east of Virden. It shows up on Google and Apple maps, and the Facebook page, Eternal Springs-VAWA, includes GPS co-ordinates. (VAWA is short for Virden Area Wildlife Association.)

Local volunteers maintain the park, which includes hiking trails, a pair of small ponds stocked with trout, day-use picnic areas, parking and washrooms. A primary attraction is the flowing clean-water spring that for decades (probably centuries) has made the place a landmark. Entry is free.

On the 20-minute drive from Sioux Valley to Eternal Springs, Eugene pointed out hills of significance to him and farm sites he had visited over the years. He told me stories about his family, about traditions and about thunder. I asked if he would repeat them in Dakota, and he did. I don’t speak or understand the language. I just love how it sounds.

At Eternal Springs, we parked and walked. First on the path, through the oaks and into the valley. Then off the path and into the past. Yellows, oranges and reds indicate the season, but nothing spoke of place or time. Where am I? When am I?

Eugene showed me nannyberries way out of season and wizened on a branch. He ate one, so I did, too. They were still sweet but tough. Somewhere between a raisin and a button. He showed me bushes of wild cranberries which were, by my estimation, in season. These cranberries are small, orange and tart, with flat pits. Eternal Springs also has chokecherries, various mints, rosehips and hazelnuts.

Knowledge and experiences and names spill from Eugene like water from a spring. I can only catch a few drops. Here’s one: “ooma” is Dakota for hazelnut.

The full hiking loop is about five kilometres. Signs show local birds, animals, trees and grasses to look out for. The trail winds through the valley around two small ponds stocked with trout, where a mother and her three children were fishing that day. It then climbs the west edge of the valley and runs along a pasture fence for a couple hundred metres. At the northwest corner is the spring. Clean water pours through a plastic half-pipe. People are lined up with water jugs. I cup a few handfuls and slurp.

Eternal Springs means something more to Eugene than to me. I love the place. Eugene grows roots. While whacking through the shrubs, Eugene said his grandmother used to tell him: “When you’re feeling sad or upset, take a walk in the woods. Let the small branches brush against you. They will sweep away your pain.”

I need to visit Eugene a thousand times to remember everything he knows. But that is a story I will never forget.

Jay Whetter is a writer based in Winnipeg. He writes primarily about agriculture.