Continuing north into the sweeping flat landscape of the boreal forest, I spot something dark moving along the shore of a small lake. As the train gets closer we see a large black bear peekingover his shoulder with calm curiosity as we rumble past eventually slowing to a stop at mile 206, called Wabatong. Owner Abby Errington is waiting for us with a small fleet of boats and followinga 15-minute boat ride, we arrive at the cluster of log structures at Errington’sWilderness Islands. Its late afternoon, so wehavejust enough time to get settled in our cabin before heading to the main lodge for a feast of Cornish hen and fresh vegetables. Even before darkness falls the stars seem brighter here. We stepdown onto the dock before turning in for the night. An alarmed beaver slaps the water with its tail setting off a chorus of loons as I quietly remark, “I think this is going to be a great place to spend a few days.”

 

 

The next morning, we get out on the water to catch the first of many pike and walleye we’ll catch during our stay and again spot the cow moose and two calves. Just before the noon hour, ourstomachs growling, we’re greeted by Errington’s staff at a designated island for itsfamous shore lunch. Themotto of ‘roughing it in velvet’ is never more apparentwhen eating fresh-caught walleye cooked over an open fire on a remote island.

 

After we eat (probably a little more than we should have), Connie decides to walk it off with a few of the other guests along the five kilometers of hiking trails on Timberwolf Island. I head out to explore more of the lake before meeting back at the lodge for a drink before dinner.

 

“There was a family of otters running the trail,” Connie says simply beaming, “And we saw a great blue heron.”

 

“I found some big pike in a weed bed and watched a bald eagle lift a fish up out of the shallows,” I counter.

 

Following a sumptuous prime rib dinner, Abby Errington tells us about a canoe stashed in a wetland at the north end of the lake. “There’s a really good chance of seeing moose up there,” he notes as hepointsto its location on the lake map on the wall. “Head up in the morning for a paddle then fish your way back for lunch.” I look at Connie, whose nodding. “Sounds good. And from what we’ve experienced so far I expect we won’t be disappointed,” I say matter-of-factly and we’re on our way.