The Great Canadian Trek: Our Journey Across Canada

In hindsight, we probably should have left earlier in the day.
By the time we had the camper hooked up (and had CAA come add air to the tires), it was nearly 5pm on January 3, 2024. But we were just done.
The last few days had been uncomfortable, stressful, and emotionally draining. It was past time to go.

Fortunately, we were driving against traffic as we left the northern suburbs of Calgary, heading east. We hadn’t specifically planned when or where we would stop — we just wanted to get to our property.

Calgary hadn’t yet seen any lasting snow that winter, which made travel easier.
As darkness settled in, we reached Brooks, Alberta, and parked at the Flying J. We were the only truck and camper combo there — just a handful of semis around. Dinner was Denny’s, attached to the truck stop.

That night, we slept in the truck. We couldn’t recline much, so we mostly slept upright — somewhat cold, and only slightly comfortable. On occasion, we’d run the truck to warm ourselves. When we did sleep, it was deep.


—

January 4th started foggy. More semis had parked around us through the night — their lights blinding at times. After coffee and a bathroom run, we hit the road again.

Maple Creek was our first real stop — a detour off the highway for gas, restrooms, and caffeine. The fog lingered until lunchtime, then cleared into a cold but bright afternoon.

Still no accessible Tim Hortons anywhere… until Moose Jaw. We found parking near the Visitor Centre and finally got our Timmies sandwiches and coffee.

Then it was back on the road to Balgonie, Saskatchewan — and another Flying J.

This stop proved trickier. We had to back into a tight marked space. Within the hour, the lot filled up. After another Denny’s dinner, we returned to find ourselves boxed in by noisy semis and their low-hanging exhaust.
We barely slept — cold and uncomfortable, with sleep coming in 45-minute chunks. By the time we fueled up and hit the highway again, it was still dark.


—

January 5th was eerie. The road out of Balgonie was deserted and dim for hours. We passed Regina and pushed on toward Winnipeg.

On the outskirts, we hit construction delays before stopping at another massive Flying J — one where our small rig felt completely out of place. After a late lunch, we knew we couldn’t do another night sleeping upright.

So we booked a motel east of Winnipeg in Richer: The Richer Inn Motor Hotel. Small, unassuming, and exactly what we needed.
A hot meal. A hot bath. A real bed. It was heaven after three grueling days.

—

January 6th, we crossed into Ontario. We stopped in Kenora, then Dryden, before things turned.

Anyone who’s driven that stretch knows: the road is winding, hilly, and utterly unforgiving. There are no shoulders, no turn-offs, and barely any exits. In daylight, it’s stunning. At dusk — with fresh snow and no trailer brakes — it’s terrifying.

And something was wrong.
Our camper brakes weren’t engaging.
We were being passed constantly but couldn’t safely pull over in the dark. We white-knuckled it for hours.

Finally, we reached a closed gas station. A driver pulled in beside us, shouting that we had no lights on the camper. Not exactly the moment for polite conversation.

Turns out the power extension cable had detached — and dragged, sparking and scraping, for hours. The plug was toast.
We reworked the setup: removed the extension, rearranged the truck bed, and took off the tailgate. While doing this, the OPP showed up — someone had reported us.

The officer was understanding. We were clearly shaken, fixing the issue, and not impaired. After the usual license checks, he wished us safe travels.

We got everything working again and pushed on through the snow to Thunder Bay, arriving late at the home of dear friends Dean and Leah.
We parked poorly but safely in deep snow, caught up over tea, and crashed for the night.


—

January 7th, after shoveling out both that night and the next morning, we set off on the Highway 11 northern route — said to be safer and faster than the Trans-Canada through Timmins.

We gassed up in Nipigon, then drove a stunning stretch of rugged, snow-laced terrain, flanked by rivers, frozen lakes, and rock. The trucks flew past us, but after the night before, this drive felt… doable.

We aimed for Hearst originally, but with sunset looming and little infrastructure along the stretch from Longlac to Hearst, we stopped early.
We found a small hotel in Longlac. It wasn’t fancy, but it was warm — and crucially, still open. Dinner was whatever we could find within walking distance. The room was clinical, but clean.
We slept.


—

January 8th, we topped off gas and tackled the last push to Cochrane. Through Moonbeam (yes, with the UFO), and finally — relief.

Thanks to a generous offer, we parked at the home of Bob and Melinda — arranged through my good friend Gabe (now in the UK). Gabe had grown up in this region and knew we’d be well cared for.

We pulled in around dusk. Set up. Unpacked the camper. Plugged into external power. And for the first time in six days — after stress, frozen truck naps, harrowing turns, and strangers’ kindness — we finally lay down…

…on our own bed.
It wasn’t luxurious.
It wasn’t fully home.
But it was ours.

The travel was over.
But the journey — the real one — had just begun.

It wasn’t luxurious.
It wasn’t fully home.
But it was ours.

The travel was over.
But the journey — the real one — had just begun.