Twelve Hours North Crossing Into Canada for my First Time

It was our first time crossing into Canada together. Lesson one of the trip arrived before the trip even started: paperwork matters when you're traveling internationally.

We drove twelve hours with limited stops, winding deeper into Ontario on roads that grew narrower and quieter with every mile. At some point the air changed. You could smell it fresh pine pouring through the cracked windows, sharp and clean and alive. The truck was filled with excitement and a touch of anxiety. We didn't know what to expect and that was the whole point.

We arrived just before sundown, checked in, and met the hosts and staff who would be helping us onto the float plane in the morning. That night, sleep barely came. Our minds were too full of what the next ten days might hold.

Float Plane Into the Backcountry

Breakfast was served community-style at the lodge. We ate alongside other adventurers, did one final check of our gear, and then it was time. Flying over remote Canadian wilderness with two dogs is a truly remarkable experience. Miya and Ollie wore their Happy Hoodies, sitting wide-eyed and calm-ish as the landscape below turned into an endless patchwork of water and boreal forest. We all landed safely.

The plane taxied away and suddenly it was just us, dropped off with our canoe at the edge of a deafening silence. Our unsupported journey had begun.

At first, we were overwhelmed. The lakes and rivers seemed to blend into one. We turned around more than once, second-guessing channels and bays that all looked the same from water level. After a few false starts, we spotted our first campsite, navigated our first portage and cursed the difficult terrain under our breath the entire way.

We arrived at camp just before sunset and just before the first thunderstorm of the trip. Weary, humbled, and completely ready for whatever came next.

Thunderstorms, Loons, and Learning to Love the Rain

Wabakimi started showing us what it was made of. The day started in rain and ended in thunderstorms. Kyle headed out fishing while I explored the lakeshore by foot.

I took the morning to rest at camp with my coffee and the dogs. We got a fire going between rain showers enough to cook when Kyle got back and enough time for me to finally get my camera settings dialed in.

We heard loons cry alongside rolls of thunder and the lightning cracked across the whole sky. The rain came from every direction absolutely relentless. It was incredible. You could feel the thunderstorms changing the air around you.

We were completely drenched by the time we climbed into the tent after watching the storms from under the pine trees. The dogs, of course, had been warm and dry for hours, sleeping peacefully. They were happy to greet us as we settled in for the night.

We each had our designated Payday candy bars, checked the weather, reviewed routes for the next day, and fell asleep as the storms rumbled on through the night.

Twenty-Four Hours of Rain and a Double Rainbow

We experienced the craziest weather I've ever experienced on a trip. The rain came hours earlier than forecasted and arrived with intense, rolling thunderstorms that grew quickly as we aimed toward our second portage of the day.

We were in the middle of said portage when the first thunderstruck. Kyle thought fast and draped the rainfly from our tent over all four of us. We rode out the storm underneath that rainfly for almost two hours until we decided it was safe to resume paddling.

It rained for close to twenty-four hours straight.

Between the storms, that evening a double rainbow stretched across the sky.

Sometimes the wilderness gives you exactly what you need, right when you need it most.

Hydration Lessons and a Fish Fry Worth Talking About

Change in diet and dehydration caught up with me. I woke up with serious stomach problems and was on the verge of passing out. Here is my official public service announcement: do not eat an excess of dates, and do not avoid water just so you don't have to get up during the night. Lesson learned.

With water, hydration packs, rest, and sunshine, I was feeling better in time to enjoy the day and help get gear dried out. Kyle went out fishing while the dogs and I held down camp.

The dogs found their spots to hide from flies and took long naps. Ollie gets bonus points for being resourceful. We captured some small, quiet moments in the landscape the kind that feel bigger when you sit with them later on.

This was my favorite campfire spot of the entire trip. We even managed a fish fry before another big rainstorm rolled in.

Finding Our Flow on the Longest Portage

By day five, we were thriving. A nice break in weather. We were rested, well-fed, and feeling strong. This was the day we'd been building toward. Our longest portage, one mile each way.

As we rounded the corner quietly skimming the water, there she was in the reeds, a majestic cow moose grazing and bathing in the morning sun. This was the first moose I have ever seen and it meant so much to both of us.

Paydays were eaten, miles were covered, hammocks were hung, pike were caught, books were read, and everything was dry. We were in the thick of the trip and we were in flow. We were both feeling strong and taking time to enjoy the moments instead of just pushing through them.

Deep in the Wilderness, Right Where We Belonged

By this point in the trip, the rhythm of the backcountry had fully settled into our bones. Wake, paddle, portage, make camp, fish, eat, sleep. The simplicity of it was its own kind of luxury.

We were far enough into the journey that the outside world felt like a rumor. There was only this: the water, the weather, each other, and the dogs.

The Final Campsites, the Last Loon Call

The final stretch of the trip carried a bittersweet weight. Napping in the canoe in the morning sun. Taking in the views from the tent. Watching the sunrise light a neighboring island on fire. Setting up our final campsite knowing it was the last one.

The loons made their final appearance and I got to do my last set of dishes at the water's edge. During challenging trips like this I actually enjoy chores like doing dishes. It keeps me grounded and allows a few quiet moments to reflect and appreciate everything we'd been through.

After over ten portages, navigating lakes and rivers, enduring severe thunderstorms and torrential rains, catching as many walleye and pike as a woman could dream of, it was time to pack up camp and find our ride out of the wilderness.

We were greeted by lodge staff with ice-cold beers, loaded our canoes, and headed back to the lodge. After a two-hour ride down a two-track road, we were almost back to civilization.

The next morning I had a shower and a hot cup of coffee before heading down to watch the sunrise one final time in Wabakimi.

Thirteen Hours South: Lake Superior, Tim Hortons, and a Black Bear

On our way home we had to stop for a swim on the north shore of Lake Superior. We detoured for Tim Hortons—an essential Canadian wilderness trip tradition—and pulled over for one more sunset picture. We saw a black bear. And after thirteen hours on the road, we were home.