In the spring of 2009 the universe was, I felt, not nudging me to “perhaps” change but instead shoving me off a cliff. I was about to turn 50 and had just gone through a divorce after almost 30 years of marriage. Both children were grown, one out of the nest, the other poised to take off. When I was laid off from a job I loved and had sustained me for 10 years, it was time to fall or fly. I decided to paddle, alone.
This is an online accounting of my two month journey along The Northern Forest Canoe Trail, 740 miles on historic waterways following travel routes used by Native Americans, First Nations, and early European settlers.