In 2018 I moved to Winnipeg. I’ve talked a bit about this in previous posts, but it changed my photography forever. While many people in Canada (and those who watch The Simpsons) may not regard Winnipeg in high regards, it can be a beautiful place. Manitoba itself has parts of it that truly are breathtaking and awe-inspiring. But this photo isn’t about the time in Winnipeg, it’s about the long drive back to Toronto.
In 2022 I got a new job, moving me back to the city I was born in. I packed my Civic Hatback to the brim, had the movers load their van, and started my drive back to Toronto…In February.
I had originally planned to leave Winnipeg Friday in the early evening to get to Kenora. Spend the night there and have a jump start on my drive to Toronto the next day. I figured it would take a couple of days with the drive taking more than 26 hours if you didn’t sleep at all. What I didn’t account for was a snowstorm and my friends’ concerns about me driving.
Kim and Heather were co-workers and friends. We were all managers at the station I worked at, and spent the pandemic talking daily to each other. The day I was leaving I touched base with the two of them to say goodbye. But Kim was worried.
A snowstorm was expected and it was supposed to be bad. Heather chimed in that she didn’t want me on the road if Kim thought it was going to be bad.
It’s important to know that Manitobans aren’t worried about the snow. They aren’t worried about the cold. They aren’t really worried about anything in winter. So when they are worried about something it comes down to either ‘it’s serious’ or ‘you’re not from here’. In either case, Heather offered to put me up for the night (since my bed and couch was currently on a truck somewhere)
Saturday morning I left early. I wanted to give myself some extra time given how bad the snowstorm was supposed to be. Just before sunrise I kicked off…to clear roads, and a clear sky. It hadn’t snowed at all.
I made my jokes, said my goodbyes again, and headed out.
The drive was stunning. While it hadn’t snowed that night, it was Manitoba in February and the trees on the side of the road were covered in snow.
It was quiet throughout most of the trip on the first day. If you haven’t driven Northern Ontario I do recommend it. If you enjoy the open road, nature, and random places to stop, you kind of have to experience it. Long stretches of road with no traffic, no cars, no people. Silence, if you want it. Every now and again I’d see something beautiful. I would pull over on the side of the road, take my camera out, saunter to the middle of a 2 lane highway and grab a few shots. Not worried at all about traffic, because there wasn’t any.
I made it to Thunder Bay where I stopped to grab some gas, food, and a GoPro. But that’s when the sky changed.
That storm that I had been warned about yesterday finally moved in.
The sky went from bright blue, to an ominous grey. Eventually, the snow started. Of course this happened after I had passed about 6 roadside motels. Now, I was traveling behind whatever vehicle I could down dark stretches of road. I couldn’t turn on my high beams because the snow was so heavy it was reflecting the light. At one point I had to kill all but the fog lights on the car because it was making driving difficult. I could barely see the road, and promised myself that the first place I came to that looked like I could stay the night I’d stop at.
It still took a few hours to find something.
Eventually, I saw a sign for a place called The Loose Moose. Pulling in the motel rooms looked to be connected to convince store/gathering place. It wasn’t quite what I was expecting, but if I could get off the road for the night and relax that would be great.
I walked in and, as if in a movie, the 5 or 6 people that were in the space all turned to look at me.
“Um, do you have a room for the night?” I asked sheepishly, almost wishing the answer was no and I’d move on to…somewhere.
“Don’t know.” Said a voice from a comfy looking armchair, “Honey, we have a bed for the night?”
“Try room 2” Came a disembodied voice from somewhere in the back.
“Room 2.” Said the man in the comfy chair as he looked me over. “Take a look. If you like it, turn the thermostat up, and come back down.”
The snow had piled so high it was nearly to my knee. I trudged along to the room, gave it a once over, turned the thermostat up and went down to pay for the room.
That night I laughed a lot with the locals. Told them where I was going and why. We joked about news and a bunch of other stuff. It was a good time. The next morning I woke up, and it was still snowing. I decided to get just a bit more sleep.
Eventually I needed to get going. I packed up the car, thanked the owner for the night. His son dug me out so I could leave, and I was back on the road. But only for a few hours.
I was told to never really allow the gas tank to go down beyond a certain point. No telling sometimes how long you might be between gas stations. So when I stopped in White River, I had 3/4 of a tank, but figured better to be safe than sorry. My goal was Wawa Ontario fill up again and decide if I was going to do the next stretch. From Wawa there isn’t much till you get to Sault Ste. Marie (about 220km or 135 miles away) From there it’s not a long drive to Toronto. (Just another 700 km, 435 miles)
But I didn’t get to Wawa.
As I approached the only highway in the area a big sign blocked the way “Road Closed”. Snow clearing had started on this narrow winding portion of road, so no traffic was allowed.
Fine, I’ll take a nap and get going later.
I found a motel, got a room, saw a lineup of cars starting to form and figured ‘I’ll let these guys go and then I’ll have my road back to myself’.
I woke up a few hours later to see a long line of cars waiting to get on the highway.
‘This doesn’t seem like the same cars.’ I thought. I walked across the street to the gas station to grab some food.
“I thought they reopened the road a few hours ago” I said to the clerk.
“They did. But there was a fatal accident so they closed it again.”
I got dinner, went to bed, and decided to get a fresh start the next day.
I should point out that I was expected in the office at my new job on Tuesday. I left Winnipeg on Saturday. Left the Loose Moose Sunday. Now I was stuck in White River not nearly as far as I had intended on getting. And the weather was not cooperating. I shot off an email to my bosses to explain what was going on, and that I might not make it for Tuesday, and tucked in for the night.
Monday morning I woke up before sunrise. Looking out the window I saw a clear sky, empty road, and frost across the windows.
I packed up the car again, and headed out.
Punching in my mom’s address (where I’d be staying for a short while when I moved back) the GPS said it was 12 hours. I could do 12 hours. No problem. I’d be in Toronto Monday and at work Tuesday.
But a 12 hour drive for me isn’t 12 hours. This stretch of road…this one…well, this made the trip incredibly worth it.
The winding roads from White River to Sault Ste. Marie were some of the most gorgeous I had traveled. At some point, this scenery appeared. Still early and the sky still waking, I stopped at the side of the road to marvel at the snow covered hill, the trees lining my path, and the steam coming off the body of water in front of me. This photo became THE photo of that road trip. The winding road that would lead me to where I was needed to be. I didn’t know what was ahead on that path. How many turns it would take me down. How often I’d need to stop and catch my breath, fill up with gas, ponder if I was even making the right choices, but it was the road I was going down.
As I said, I could wander out to the middle of the road, have time to compose my shots, take them and get back in the car without anyone passing me. That morning was no different.
I did make it to Toronto that night, and to my new job Tuesday morning.
That road trip was one of the best times I’ve had. Traveling for 3 days, not knowing exactly what I would see on the path, and being surprised by the beauty of part of the country I hadn’t seen before. The thing about these road trips is you learn so much about the country if you open yourself up to it. It was a moment of truly embracing the idea of ‘the journey, not the destination.’
And I have this photo, to remind me of that idea. Of the winding road, the uncertain path, and the beauty that can be just around the corner.