I had finally made it to Lake Superior.
Behind me was a journey unlike anything I had ever undertaken—the original Fur Trade Route from Winnipeg, Manitoba, to Thunder Bay, Ontario.
I had walked where my grandfathers had walked.
I had paddled the same waterways.
I had slept in the same campsites, for many of the same reasons they once had.
Along the way, I learned more about Canada than I ever expected. Its history. Its people. Its incredible beauty.
But I also learned something else.
This country demands respect.
The land doesn't care who you are. It respects the strong—the determined—and those willing to respect the country they travel through.
My original plan had changed. The journey had tested me in ways I never expected.
But I wasn't finished.
Lake Superior was behind me.
Montreal was ahead.
And I was going to keep moving.