It started with an invitation we couldn't refuse ...
How would we like to go to a large lake in the Canadian wilderness for a 12-day canoe trip? "Yes!" we replied, with little understanding of what we were getting ourselves into.
Weeks later, we were driving the one-track dirt road to the portage trail parking lot.
What happened next?
Read on to find out ... but safety first: Take a moment to put on your life vest, slip into your wellies, and fill your mug to the brim with your favorite relaxing Canadian beverage, because ...
It's paddle time!
Let's begin, shall we?
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| Welcome to British Columbia's Murtle Lake! Who? Three couples (and lifelong friends) in three canoes. Couple #1: Gary and Lynn Clark - Experienced paddlers Couple #2: Mark and Julie Jonas - Experienced paddlers (pictured above) Couple #3: Natalie and me - Total newbies What? A 12-day remote lake paddle trip. When? September 2026. Where? Wells Gray Provincial Park's Murtle Lake ... North America's largest paddle-only lake. How? By combining physical strength, perseverance, and teamwork ... Or ... by learning from people who know what they're doing. You decide. Why? Because we lost our minds ... and we like new challenges. |
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| Getting there and back again - such fun! Knowing that paddlers are hearty people, our Canadian hosts thought it would be OK to locate the parking lot a convenient 1.6 miles from the lake. Above, Natalie paints a no problem picture on the portage down to the lake. Of course, what goes down must go back up. Twelve days later, we pushed our gear cart up the trail. Now I'm not much of a conspiracy theory guy, but I know that during those 12 days someone added new hills to what was now, undeniably, a 4.6-mile portage back to the parking lot! |
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| Pack it up! Just the packing for a nearly two-week off-the-grid trip was a challenge of its own. Bring everything you'll need, but don't overpack. Food? Yes, 36 pounds of it. Clothing? Just the right stuff for every type of weather. And don't forget all the camping gear. Above, our canoes are full and ready to launch into the Canadian wilderness! But before going anywhere, what's the ONE THING every smart paddler has for a lake experience like this? Wellies, of course! Canoeing without wellies, commonly used on farms to keep mud and a variety of poop safely at bay, would be silly. In honor of wellies everywhere, join me in a sing-along of If It Wisnae Fur Yer Wellies. FUN FACT: Wellies originated in the early 19th century when Arthur Wellesley, the 1st Duke of Wellington, had shoemaker George Hoby modify the traditional military Hessian boots into a more practical design. FUN FACT: Note the motorboat in the image above. That's the only motorized boat allowed on the lake, and it's used by the two park rangers who live on the lake to help paddling-people when they get into trouble. |
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| Time for a campground sing-along, Mark? There was a daily paddle-camping routine, and it went something like this: Wake up, make something to eat, pack everything up and haul it into the canoe, paddle to the next campsite, unload the canoe, set everything up, eat dinner, and around 8:00 p.m., crawl into the tent and sleep. Sometimes, wind and rain added a certain spice to the mix. Determining what food to bring was another challenge. When Mark and I were teenagers, we spent a month running around Grand Teton National Park fueled on a foundation of Kraft Mac & Cheese. Mix up a box of cheesy magic and add tuna or any can of vegetables. That was dinner ... and we liked it! Life was simple when we didn't know any better. The 36 pounds of food for this trip included freeze-dried dinners, candy bars, Nila Vanilla wafers, all sorts of cheese, mini bagels, meat sticks, granola, and more. And don't forget the box of wine and bottle of Canadian Mist whiskey. Deciding what to eat, and when to eat it, was the hard part because there was no running to the store for more. Murtle Lake camping had a twist to it too: All food, and anything with an odor that might attract a bear, had to be stored. And that's where bear boxes came in. To discourage bears from visiting, large steel bins are positioned near each campground. When dinner was done, the food and any other tempting items were packed up and hauled to the box. For me, this meant no midnight snacks. This was unbelievable barbarism. First thing in the morning? It was back to the bear box to haul the odorous fun stuff back to camp. Did I ever cheat on the system? ... No ... well, except one morning, I woke up and found a half-eaten meat stick in my coat pocket. Ha! Dumb bears! The campground sing-along? Give If It Wisnae Fur Yer Wellies a go ... you'll love it! |
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| Zigzagging away Wellies: ON! Rain gear: ON! Canoe: PACKED! The only thing left to do? Paddle in a straight line. With virtually no experience canoeing, Natalie and I zigzagged our way along the lake's west arm always lagging behind the others who knew how to paddle in straight lines. Wind and waves added an element of excitement. Yay, excitement! Just what we needed. Lo and behold, we survived our trial-by-fire debut; we never flipped the canoe, and by day three, we were paddling in deliberate directions often resembling straight lines. Small miracles. |
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| All critters great and small Did you know the wilderness runs rampant with critters? They're everywhere! Some in the air, others underwater, and even others on land. One morning, at the far end of the lake's north arm, Mark spotted a GIANT BEAR heading toward our camp! Not once, but twice, the hairy behemoth stopped in its tracks, stood on hind legs and let loose a blood-curdling roar that shook the mountains all around us. We stood our ground and yelled, "Hey, Yogi! You forgot Boo Boo!" It's clear we startled the bear. I'm mean, come on, what bear drops its toothbrush and forgets to pick it back up? AUTHOR'S NOTE: The bear encounter described above may contain exaggerations. What can be verified is that a bear was spotted, yelled at, and subsequently ran away. It's unknown if the bear's name was Yogi ... or Boo Boo. Bears are one thing, but frightening camp creatures that only come out at night are quite another. One night I turned off my headlamp and began to drift asleep, dreaming of sunny days and calm waters, when a ghostly wind rushed across my face. "That was weird," I thought. No matter ... I drifted back to dreamland only to have something skitter up my arm. I turned on the headlamp just in time to see a mouse's tiny butt-n-tail exiting the tent through a small gap in the mostly zipped entrance. So, which animal encounter would you enjoy? The bear or the mouse? Bears can tear you apart. But mice? They love sharing campsites with you. They want to cuddle up and be your friends ... your little rodent friends ... happily dancing all over your face and snuggling in your armpits for nice naps. |
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| The reason for the season? THIS GUY! GARY CLARK! For many Moscow Junior High School 8th-grade students in 1974, Mr. Clark was simply their math teacher. But for Mark and me, Gary taught us how to rock climb and live to tell about it. That may not sound like much, but in 1974, climbing wasn't a pop-culture sport. There were no climbing gyms or Olympic competitions. It was scrappy. I could go on, but suffice it to say that Gary made an amazingly lasting positive impression on both Mark and me. So, this wasn't just a canoe trip. Not at all. On this adventure, we celebrated Gary's 80th birthday! You know what? The day Superman runs out of ideas, if he's smart, he'll turn to Gary for inspiration and well-engineered solutions. Not even Kryptonite can stop Gary Clark. |
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| I thought kokanee was a beer Well, Kokanee is a beer, and a fine Canadian beer at that! But at Straight Creek, another kind of kokanee gathered. Kokanee are the landlocked cousins of sockeye salmon, and the sockeyes are the namesake of a fine Boise-based company, Sockeye Brewing. OH NO! Are fish where beer comes from? It was mesmerizing to watch the school of kokanee swim in circles ... or in any which way the mood sent them ... and that mood was spawning. Once they spawn, the thrill is gone, and they are too. |
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| The crew plus two Admittedly not the best photo to make introductions, but I'm going with it anyway. From right to left, Lynn and Gary Clark, Natalie, Mark Jonas, and then Julie Jonas over to the left. The final two on the left? Blue and Abby. Blue and Abby weren't just passersby. They're the two lake rangers that live in the only cabin on the lake and patrol the campsites to help when needed (and more often to restock the vault toilets with toilet paper). They're from England and as nice as could be. When the road to the lake washed out earlier in the summer, Blue and Abby were TRAPPED FOR A MONTH ... and with nothing but a well-stocked cabin, a motorboat, and a beautiful giant lake all to themselves. And they got paid for it. That must have sucked ... |
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| Hey, Hank, burgers all around! After 12 days and 70+ miles of paddling, first things first: a shower, a clean shave (women included), and fresh clothes. Next up? Dinner at Log Inn & Pub in Avola. Log Inn & Pub is a fun backwoods-kitschy place with walls covered in funny signs and a small fortune of cash stapled to the walls. Seriously, boatloads of $10 and $20 bills on the walls. Behind the counter? Hank (at the top left in the image). It was mystical: no sound of sizzling patties or clatter of plates; just Hank, quietly working away. 15 minutes later, he served six hot and juicy burgers that were divine. Was my judgment of Hank's burgers clouded by 12 days of freeze-dried dinners? I assure you it was not. Hank's burgers truly were divine. |
If you ever make it to Avola, stop in and have Hank make you a burger. You'll be glad you did.
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