Nevertheless, the phrase has entered the lexicon of Canadian cottage-country daredevils as slang for any jerky, unsafe, or homemade lift. If you are determined to see or experience a loons elevator in the wild, here are your best bets:
And if someone offers you a ride on a "loons elevator" in northern Ontario? Politely decline. Then ask to see the nesting raft instead. Have you ever encountered a loons elevator—real or mythic? Share your story in the comments below. And if you found this article helpful, consider supporting loon conservation efforts through the Loon Preservation Committee or your local lake association. loons elevator
Local guides and lake residents gave these rafts a nickname: . Nevertheless, the phrase has entered the lexicon of
The next time you hear a loon call across a glassy lake at dusk—that trembling, wild, laugh-like wail—remember that somewhere, rusting in a barn or floating in a reedy bay, a piece of machinery or a simple wooden raft is quietly doing the same thing: rising against the odds. Then ask to see the nesting raft instead
When most people hear the word "loon," they think of a black-and-white waterbird with a haunting, yodeling call echoing across a northern lake. When they hear the word "elevator," they think of a box of steel and cables carrying them to a 20th-floor office.
The story goes: In the remote town of Sioux Lookout, Ontario (loon capital of the world), there is an old decommissioned fire tower. A local prankster allegedly welded a wooden box to the tower's cable and called it the "Loon's Elevator." Tourists were told it could "lift them to see the loons." Instead, it rose 30 feet and then released with a bang, dropping riders 10 feet before a safety catch engaged.
Since common loons build nests right at the waterline, their eggs are vulnerable to rising water levels from dams, storms, or spring melt. In the 1970s, wildlife biologists invented the —a floating platform anchored in shallow water.