Trip Report & Photos by Stef Gebbie, Tasmania
Some of the largest bodies of fresh water in the world. Uncountable lakes, raging rivers, and portage after portage. The Canadian Shield extends through the heart of this country, a barrier to transportation and development, but a paddler’s paradise and a watery highway into the heart of what it means to explore Canada. I headed out across this unique part of the world as part of my intention to cross Canada East to West. I brought with me the broken and rearranged dream to complete this journey on horseback, and the heavy weight of grief that I dragged behind me like a drogue.
A perfect sunset across a pebble beach and the weight of loss.
The smell of cedar and the waves of grief.
Such contrasts between the joy of being alive in such a part of the world, and the harrowing experience of reconciling oneself to such joy after the death of someone you love.
Nothing makes it make sense, but moving through the world helps me tolerate the senselessness of it.
In 2024 I set off to ride horses East to West across Canada. We arrived at Manitoulin Island when I had to make the difficult decision to return home to Australia due to family tragedy. Postponing the journey was hard but the right thing to do, and by the middle of 2025, several factors combined to convince me to abandon the idea of riding through the Northern US from Sault Ste Marie to the Prairies, and instead piece the journey together by paddling from Manitoulin Island to the Manitoba border. The choice of vessel was obvious: A TRAK kayak. I have undertaken a few sea kayak expeditions before, and the trouble of transporting them, especially alone without vehicle support, has proven to be the stuff of nightmares. So when a second-hand TRAK appeared online, I snapped it up and headed back to Ontario, and my oh my, what an incredible experience!
Manitoulin Island is the largest freshwater island in the world, and it was a heavenly experience to paddle around the Eastern half and up through the countless island of the North Channel to Sault Ste Marie. Hot July weather, close encounters with porcupines and a bear, loons through the mist, and the epic lock from Lake Huron to Lake Superior where some highlights of this section.
Lake Superior has an intimidating reputation, and I must admit that the freshwater seemed to behave a little differently than the sea, but the Lake held me gently and carried me along the North Shore to Thunder Bay and beyond. Lake Superior Provincial Park, Pukaskwa National Park, and the islands from Terrace Bay to Sleeping Giant Provincial Park were highlights of the journey, and I kept thinking, “I need to come back here with more time!” Strong winds would rapidly bring in big conditions around exposed headlands and strong rebound waves from cliff faces, but the TRAK handled everything with the ease of a true expedition boat. I was able to carry over three weeks of food, and the adjustable sides meant tracking into a crosswind posed no issues without a rudder or skeg.
From the US-Canada border, I left the Big Lake behind and headed into the Interior along the Path of the Paddle. This water trail is maintained by a bunch of legends who mark portages and have detailed trail maps – a must for a foreigner! I must admit portaging was a shock to the system! I have never canoed and only ever done a few short rafting portages, and taking a kayak through alone was often a challenge. But I soon developed the right headspace and a bit of system that allowed me to get my stuff across and carry the TRAK quite comfortably on my head and the top of a large backpack.
Over 100 portages later, I was pretty exhausted but also a portage pro! Quetico was a stunning part of the journey, and a place I would love to return to. Sections further West felt remote and rarely frequented, with overgrown portage tracks and weeks without seeing another human soul. But finally, my boat and I emerged onto Lake of the Woods and before I knew it we were paddling into Kenora!
By now it was the middle of October, so with the help of volunteers with Path of the Paddle, I stashed my boat for a few days and walked to the Manitoba border, completing around 1800km to travel from Manitoulin Island to Manitoba. The cold weather was setting in, and it was time to get off the water and have a rest.
Every expedition brings its own colours and experiences, it’s unique combination of challenges and joys. For me, it has opened up a new world of paddling possibilities with this boat I have now tested to the max and trust to perform to the highest standard. It has helped me adjust to life after losing my brother to cancer. It has shown me that the world is always perfect, you just have to throw yourself out into it. It wrapped me in a blanket of solitude and let me weep, threw challenge after challenge at me to force me to move through emotions and out the other side. This boat gave me the Canadian Shield and let me be a part of nature, not apart from it. Every expedition changes you, and this one made me quieter, deeper, as though the Maligne River still runs through a part of my mind. Or perhaps more accurately, a part of my mind will always be out there, paddling across fresh water with the scent of cedars on the morning air.
About the Author:
Stef Gebbie is a Tasmanian equestrian who grew up with horses as a child. She's always loved the outdoors and adventure, and has worked in the outdoor guiding industry in Tasmania for over a decade, heading off overseas during the southern winters to explore new horizons and experience new adventures.
Stef's website, road.horse, shares the story of her journeys, her insights into long distance horse travel, and is a place to celebrate the community that is growing around equestrian travel. You can also find her on Instagram at @_roadhorse_.
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