Sunset on Ponkapoag

In the southernmost part of Blue Hills Reservation is a shallow, 200-acre body of water called Ponkapoag Pond, which locals pronounce punk-a-pog.

The pond is home to largemouth bass, bluegill, black crappie, golden shiner, and the fearsome pickerel. And although my son and I fished without success one August afternoon, we were rewarded with numerous sightings of red tailed hawks, cormorants, gulls, and geese.

The Randolph side of the pond is also home to a little-known collection of unelectrified cabins run by the Appalachian Mountain Club. There is no sign on the road in Canton that marks the entry point for these cabins. Just a gate with a combination lock. From there, a mile-long gravel road leads you to the campsite — and about 100 years back in time.

At a point when so many of us rarely look up from our electronic screens, a stay at these rustic cabins is poignant reminder of what we’re missing. The ever-changing light on the pond, the goose calls, the smell of campfires, the breeze through the screen windows at night — these simple pleasures engage the senses and command one’s attention in a way that Facebook never will. And spending more than 24 hours without electricity is guaranteed to summon creativity and resourcefulness!

My son and I canoed, captured an island, improved our ping-pong skills up at camp headquarters, swam in the lake, and then read by candlelight.

Nostalgic? Yes. Memorable? You bet.