Toronto has two airports, 25 km / 15 miles apart from each other, and Porter Airlines operates flights from both. I have to believe I’m not the only one who’s shown up at the wrong airport, confused by the similar airport codes: YYZ for Pearson and YTZ for Billy Bishop. I have never imagined it would happen to me, as I’ve flown from both countless times, but it did. After enjoying a relaxed dinner and a leisurely stroll through downtown Toronto, I arrived at Billy Bishop Airport, excited to finally board my flight to Thunder Bay. That excitement quickly turned to disbelief when Sophie, a customer service agent, empathetically delivered the bad news: my plane was actually waiting for me at Pearson.

There was no realistic way to make it across the city in time. A taxi would have been the fastest option, but Toronto was gridlocked in rush hour traffic, and I still needed to check my backpack. Sophie must have sensed my disappointment, because she went above and beyond: she called a colleague at the call centre and asked them to rebook me on the next flight from Billy Bishop. Miraculously, they did so free of charge. I was mentally prepared to pay the fare because the mistake was entirely mine, but somehow magic happened, and I was set to fly out the next morning.

The only remaining challenge was finding a place to sleep. Technically, I had my full camping kit with me - a tent, sleeping bag, and mat - and Sophie even half-jokingly suggested I pitch my tent near Lake Ontario so I wouldn’t miss my flight. As tempting as that sounded to my adventurous side, I wasn’t keen on competing with local homeless people for waterfront real estate or having to explain myself to the police. So I quickly booked a bed in a nearby downtown hostel.

The ripple effect of missing my flight affected the next two days of travel. First, the Haven Hostel in Thunder Bay had been expecting me on Thursday, not Friday, so before leaving the airport, I called to ask if they could kindly shift my reservation by one night. Lee Ann, the staff member I spoke with, didn’t hesitate after hearing my silly story. She rebooked me for the following night without any problem. I’m quite certain I violated their cancellation policy with such a last-minute change, but they didn’t charge me a single dime.

When I arrived the next day around noon, I was greeted by Bettany. Half-jokingly, I asked if breakfast was still being served. She smiled and said it was over, but then graciously brewed a fresh pot of coffee just for me. She said she needed a cup herself, but I suspect it was more an act of kindness than necessity. By the way, later on that day, Joe - a long-term guest who’s been staying at the hostel since July 2024 - had baked chocolate coconut cookies and generously offered them to everyone. That’s one of the things I love about hostels: strangers cook, share, and connect like old friends. 

I also had to call Kasper Transportation, the local bus company that would take me to Terrace Bay, to let them know I wouldn’t be making the 8:45 am departure. This change was trickier, as I had originally booked a cheaper, non-refundable ticket weeks in advance. The customer service representative was well aware of the ticket’s restrictions. Yet instead of charging me the full fare again for the next day’s bus, he simply asked me to pay the difference between my original fare and a refundable ticket, then changed my reservation free of charge. Kasper truly impressed me: their staff, from drivers to cashiers, were consistently friendly and helpful. While their main route runs between Winnipeg and Thunder Bay, they also serve remote northern communities, many of them Indigenous, stretching from Sioux Lookout to White River. 

With nearly a full day to spend in Thunder Bay unexpectedly, I decided to make the most of it rather than lounging in the cozy comfort of my hostel bed. Thunder Bay, as it exists today, was formed in 1970 through the merger of two historic towns: Port Arthur and Fort William. As their names suggest, Port Arthur has a sizable port on Lake Superior, while Fort William was once a major hub for the fur trade in the early 1800s.

Of the two downtown cores, Port Arthur is by far the more charming, and I was fortunate that the Haven Hostel is located right in its heart. In the late 19th century, Port Arthur served as the temporary eastern terminus of the Canadian Pacific Railway until 1885, when the railway finally connected the Atlantic and Pacific coasts. Later, it evolved into a vital grain transshipment centre, bringing grain from across the Prairies to Eastern Canada, the United States, and beyond. Even today, a dozen or so grain elevators remain in operation, with ships transporting cargo across the Great Lakes to Montreal, where it’s transferred to transatlantic vessels.

The waterfront is clearly undergoing revitalization, with new parks, fountains, walkways, and even a fish-cleaning station. I’m not a fisherman myself, but if I were, I’d certainly appreciate the convenience of cleaning my catch right there instead of bringing it home. This area is also home to the Pagoda, the oldest tourist information building in Canada, which was built in 1909, and still looks sharp.

One of the main attractions in Port Arthur is the Thunder Bay Transportation Museum located in Marina Park. Although modest in size, its centrepiece is the Alexander Henry, a retired Canadian Coast Guard icebreaker built right in Port Arthur in 1959. Initially, I hadn’t planned to tour the museum - ships simply aren’t usually my thing; I’m more of a train enthusiast, but I’m so glad I changed my mind. I ended up receiving a private tour from Bill, a long-time museum board member and a secretary, who shared countless fascinating stories about the vessel.

The Alexander Henry served on the Great Lakes until 1985, carrying out icebreaking, buoy tending, and rescue missions. Today, it operates as a floating museum and is open to the public. Bill and I both agreed that the highlight of the tour was the engine room, which still carries the nostalgic scent of diesel. Fun fact: ships are traditionally referred to as “she” due to maritime superstition and symbolism. Sailors historically personified ships as protective, graceful, and life-giving, often naming them after women or goddesses to bring good fortune.

Later, I had a great conversation with a navy officer from HMCS Margaret Brooke, a Royal Canadian Navy vessel currently patrolling the Arctic and touring the Great Lakes to promote outreach and recruitment. He enthusiastically answered my questions about how Canada defends its northern borders, particularly in relation to Russian activity. It’s a demanding job, but living conditions for naval personnel have improved significantly. These days, two officers typically share a cabin with a private shower and toilet; unlike the past, when twelve would have to share similar quarters. 

Originally, I had planned to hike the Casque Isles Trail over two days, covering approximately 30 km / 19 miles. However, due to changes in my itinerary, that distance became too ambitious to tackle in a single day. So instead of taking a bus to Terrace Bay and hiking westward to Schreiber, I changed the plan: I took a bus directly to Schreiber and explored the surrounding trails from there. I would still cover a fair distance, but my route would no longer be linear.

While there are scenic campsites along the trail, I chose to camp in town to stay closer to people and, more importantly, to the bus I needed to catch at 3 am. I didn’t fancy the idea of hiking several kilometres in the dark with only a flashlight. If I’d had company, camping on the beach might have felt less lonely, but since I was travelling solo, I chose a private campground near the Trans-Canada Highway.

As I was setting up my tent, I heard a loud, startling noise, like fireworks going off. It turned out to be Erica, the campground owner, trying to scare off a black bear that had wandered into a campsite next to mine (and I didn’t see him). Whether the bear was spooked or not, I certainly was. Just five minutes later, the bear returned. Concerned for my safety, Erica kindly offered me a room in one of the apartments she was renovating for the upcoming season. The room was bare: just drywall dust on the floor and pot lights in the ceiling, but it had walls and a metal door, more than enough to keep a curious bear out. I accepted her offer without hesitation. While I likely would have been fine - I never store food in my tent and I know bears well - it was a clear case of better safe than sorry. This year, due to cold and dry conditions, wild berries are scarce, forcing bears to scavenge human garbage. Anything with a scent left outside becomes an attractant. Erica also gave me a bear horn to carry while walking around town. Thankfully, I never had to use it and returned it to her in the evening, along with a pack of licorice candies from Finland I had packed for my backpacking.

For a small town of just 1,000 residents, Schreiber holds an important place in Canadian railroading history. It’s one of the oldest railway communities on the shores of Lake Superior. The town has a charming museum designed to resemble a classic train station, complete with two refurbished railcars: one offering a virtual reality experience that explores Schreiber’s connection to the Canadian Pacific Railway, and the other filled with local artifacts. I had the pleasure of speaking with Ray, the museum’s curator, who proudly shared that the collection includes over 3,000 artifacts. Many of them are rare and historically important. Remarkably, nearly all were donated by local residents who unearthed them from basements, sheds, and attics.

One particularly fascinating item Ray showed me was a yooperlite, a rock first discovered in 2017 along the shores of Lake Superior. By day, it looks like an ordinary grey stone, but under ultraviolet light, it reveals a stunning orange glow. These glowing rocks are being found more frequently along the lake’s rugged coastline.

After wandering through town, I finally reached the breathtaking beach on Lake Superior, where I had originally planned to camp overnight. The beauty of the place made me almost regret my decision to stay in town. The geology of Lake Superior is especially dramatic along the coast, where relentless waves have exposed ancient rock formations. Despite its remote feel, the area is dotted with pristine sand and cobble beaches hidden in sheltered coves. They offer ideal spots for camping and just enjoying the views.

As I was cooking my dinner and settling in for the night, I received a message from Via Rail informing me that my train from White River to Sudbury the next morning had been cancelled. Had this happened in a major city like Toronto, Ottawa, or Montreal, I wouldn’t have been too concerned: there are always alternative trains or transit options. But in Northern Ontario, where this remote train only runs three times a week, the cancellation meant I was at serious risk of being stranded for several days. A call to Via Rail offered no resolution. No alternative transportation would be provided, and I wasn’t eligible for any compensation beyond a ticket refund. I quickly checked the bus schedule to see if I could return to Thunder Bay and catch a flight from there, but the next bus wouldn’t depart until the following evening - far too late to make it back to Toronto in time for my Monday morning offsite meeting with my team.

Then I had a thought: what if I simply stayed on my Ontario Northland bus from Schreiber instead of getting off in White River? Where would it take me? To my relief, I discovered it continued all the way to Sault Ste. Marie, four more hours south. Even better, there was an afternoon flight from Sault Ste. Marie to Toronto. It looked like I could still make it back on time! I called Ontario Northland, and the kind woman on the other end of the line empathized with my situation. She refunded my non-refundable ticket from Sudbury to Toronto and rebooked me all the way from Schreiber to Sault Ste. Marie - no need to get off in White River. Booking the flight was straightforward, although the last-minute fare was steep. But there was no other alternative. I’m still trying to get Via Rail to compensate for the extra cost, but so far, no luck.

The bus ride to Sault Ste. Marie turned out to be surprisingly comfortable, with a few scenic pit stops along the way. My favourite stretch was between Wawa and Batchawana Bay, within the boundaries of Lake Superior Provincial Park. The fall foliage was at its peak, with vibrant reds and oranges from maple and oak trees painting the landscape. I didn’t have much time in Sault Ste. Marie - just enough for a quick breakfast and a two-hour walk to the airport. While I didn’t get to explore the downtown attractions, I did admire the industrial skyline, dominated by the steel manufacturing plants that give the city some charm.

So was it all worth it? Absolutely! Despite the unexpected detours, cancellations, and an encounter with a bear, my journey through Northern Ontario was filled with human kindness and natural beauty. Sometimes, the best adventures are the ones that don’t go according to plan.