[Note: I should probably call this “Travels without Choppy,” as Choppy wasn’t on the trip.]

When I was 6 years old, my dad took me on a canoe/fishing trip to the Boundary Waters Canoe Area. Most years since then, we’ve gone on some sort of similar trip. Over the years, the trips have become more elaborate (we now have cabins, boats with motors, and a plane ride to the lake where we are headed), but it’s still an annual chance to spend some time with my dad (and other relatives/friends who happen to be on the trip).

This year, we headed to Whiteclay Lake, in Ontario. In case you’re wondering where that is, here’s a map showing you that it’s pretty much the middle of nowhere.

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Whiteclay Lake: a long way from any city.

It’s so much the middle of nowhere, once you get to the end of the road, you have to hop on an airplane to get even further into the wilderness.

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A very lightly traveled road from Thunder Bay to Armstrong Station. There are times you take this road and see more moose and bears than other cars.
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One of five moose and two bears we saw along the road on our drive.
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After the road, it’s the airplane party.
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Otis, our pre-flight inspector, is pretty sure this piece isn’t necessary for flight. Then again, he’s a dog, so perhaps we should get a second opinion.
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The view from the plane.

There are some detriments to being this far off of the grid.

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The facilities.

But the views and scenery sure are awesome.

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Gorgeous cliffs. 
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Beautiful waterfalls.
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Stunning sunsets.
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Fantastic fires.

Eventually you have to head home. With an important stop along the way.

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Poutine at McDonald’s? America totally needs to get on board with that. 

But thankfully there are people and pets to welcome you home.

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The look you get when you don’t take your dog on vacation.