A Family Camping Adventure in the Canadian Wilderness
7/27/20263 min read
When Everything Goes Wrong (And It's Still the Best Trip of the Year)
I'll be honest with you — I don't always make it easy on myself agreeing to these trips. Loading eight people into a boat, heading into a lake we'd literally never camped on, with no idea what fish were even in it? That's a lot of faith in a man with a leaking boat and big dreams.
But here we are. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
We pulled up to the landing to find mosquitoes so bad I'm still not sure how we survived the unload. It was thick. Like, move fast or don't move at all bad. Ed's already mid-sentence about some beautiful spot he spotted on the map, completely unbothered, while I'm swatting my face off trying to make sure nobody loses an eye to a mosquito the size of a small bird. Classic.
The boat had a leak. A rivet had gone missing at some point, and the whole ride out Ed's sponging water every ten minutes. His solution? An earplug and two zip ties he found on the ground. I wish I was joking.
I stood there watching this man shove a foam earplug into the hull of our boat with a totally straight face and genuine confidence. And you know what? It actually worked.
Until the storm came through and the whole thing went to the bottom of the lake anyway.
That moment — kids screaming, life jackets floating, Ed standing there with a bucket going "well, she's only in a foot and a half of water" — is one I will absolutely never forget. We laughed so hard. What else do you do?
Day three, Ed woke up with a sick stomach. Down for the count. I had six kids, in the middle of no where, and no backup. Sandwiches for lunch. Nap time enforced by sheer willpower. Baby Jack was on my hip while I got the campfire going, and somewhere between making electrolyte powder for Ed and mediating a fishing dispute between Dylan and John, I realized — I've got this. We've got this.
And then Ed emerged from the tent, slightly greenish, and said "I'm alive, I guess" — and honestly that might be one of the funniest things he's ever said.
Here's what made it all worth it, though. We were on a completely random lake. No track record, no fishing report, nothing. And it turned out to be one of the most incredible fishing lakes we've ever been on. Northern pike everywhere. Smallmouth bass stacked on the shoals. And lake trout — our first time ever catching them completely on our own, no cousin guiding us, just us and the jet divers figuring it out.
I caught the first one. I was absolutely losing my mind. I'm not sure Ed got it all on camera because I think I scared the fish with my screaming. I didn't care. That was mine.
Kate caught one. Dylan caught one. John topped them both with the biggest one next. Watching Ed cheer for each of those kids as they pulled something huge out of the water — arms burning, rod tips bent — that's the stuff.
One evening, after all the littles were in bed, it was just me, Ed, baby Jack sleeping in the boat, and the whole lake to ourselves. Trolling for trout in the quiet. I looked at Ed and said "There is nowhere I would rather be than right here with you."
Four days. One sinking boat. Mosquitoes, black flies, one sick husband, pollen that smelled like — well, Ed described it, and I'll just say it was not pleasant. And it was still perfect.
The reason people go camping, I think, is so that when you get home you remember how much you like it at home. But also so that when you're sitting in that campfire smoke, half-eaten alive, laughing at a husband who fixed a boat leak with an earplug — you remember how good it actually is to be alive.
Running water, though. I will never take running water for granted again.
Come along for the full adventure — watch the video HERE.
