Eliguk Outpost

Grazing the Winter Forest The trail began in silence, except for the crunch of snow beneath my boots and the rhythmic panting of my three Aussies bounding ahead. December light filtered through the trees, pale and golden, a fragile warmth against the cold air. It was the kind of morning where solitude feels less like being alone and more like being folded into the arms of something vast and benevolent. The forest in December is a paradox: stillness wrapped in motion, silence stitched with song. Snow washed Rose Hips. The forest’s first offering revealed itself in the form of rose hips, glowing like scarlet beads strung upon thorny stems, each…

The lake at dawn is not simply ice to me; it is a living creature stretched across the valley, its back smooth and shining beneath the pale breath of morning. Each creak beneath my paws is the beast sighing in its sleep, each faint pulse of trout beneath its belly a heartbeat that reminds me life endures even under silence. I press my paws against the lake’s hard skin, toe pads sticking as I walk on the cold glass, claws scratching at my trout just out of reach. I can see them — silver sparks drifting below me, alive but untouchable. They brushed against my legs, darting around my feet,…

Getting out to enjoy my surroundings. Life, I’ve realized, is a bit like a hardware store. Some people walk in, grab the one tool they need, and leave satisfied. Me? I’m the one juggling a hammer, a ladder, three paint samples, and a gadget I don’t even know how to use—insisting I can carry it all without dropping anything. Spoiler: I drop something every time because I refused to get a cart. It’s not greed. It’s that restless itch whispering, If you don’t do it all, will anyone remember you did anything at all? Legacy sneaks in like a nosy neighbor peeking over the fence. Our two grown children, orbiting…

A Decade in Review A hike along the Blackwater River. Little Red Hen Went Off the Grid I’ve always loved the story of The Little Red Hen. It’s one of the first books I remember reading as a child, and it stuck with me in a way that few stories ever have. Completely captivated by this small, determined creature, and the lesson I took away from that book stayed with me forever, I might just be a chicken whisperer because of it! The hen asks for help—planting the wheat, harvesting it, grinding it, and baking the bread. And every time, the answer is no; no one wants to do the…

We made a break for it. A stealthy, short-notice escape plotted like a heist—minus the ski masks, plus a lot of flannel. The Guide Outfitters (friends Daniel & Daniela) stepped in like off-grid babysitters, wrangling the resort, the dogs, and the chickens (who, frankly, have more attitude than the dogs), while they guided some German clients on a moose hunt for 10 days. With the homestead in capable hands, we slipped out the back door and hit the road. Leaving the resort behind in the care of the guide outfitters. First stop: Will and Teresa’s big welcoming log home—the kind of place that exhales comfort the moment you step through…

The Beaver Arrives The Last Guests The last guests arrived at the end of September—flying in with an iconic Canadian vintage de Havilland Beaver floatplane, of which only 1,657 were built from 1947 to 1967. It's single-engined, high-wing, propeller-driven, short take-off and landing (STOL) design, which designates the DCH-2 as one of the top ten greatest Canadian engineering achievements of the 20th century. Getting to charter your off-grid wilderness excursion in one can be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Something many people have jotted down on their bucket list of things to do. Barge tours We closed the season with an eight-day stretch that felt like a slow-burning campfire—crackling with hikes, storytelling,…

Life in the wild is direct and to the point, unlike the added drama of the past reality show, which we participated in a few years ago. While all of the experiences happened, the ones of these past few weeks were carved into my memory, etched into my thoughts like the lines of an ancient map. I often find myself checking my sanity, pondering whether escaping to the heart of the wilderness is truly less stressful than the frenetic pace of city life. Yet, amid the uncertainty, there’s an undeniable thrill in the unknown that pulls me forward, a siren song of adventure that promises to reveal everything. And one…

Trout, Thunder, and the Weight of Smoke Keeping up with the Jones's The week began with an appetite that only wealth and testosterone could summon. Seven men—three of them pre-college teens with the metabolism of hummingbirds on Red Bull—arrived at our wilderness resort like a pack of Armani-clad lumberjacks. They hailed from a family-run business U.S. law firm, the kind where billable hours are measured in heartbeats and the coffee is probably infused with truth serum. The group had pre-arranged for double portions and a menu plan that could have fed a football team. They came for trout, family bonding, and food aplenty, so I had added an extra grocery…

Jeni comes to Eliguk. Where on earth did two weeks vanish? Time has a relentless way of slipping through our fingers like water over rocks, especially when you’re caught in the whirlwind of life. Here at our little off-grid wilderness lodge, we've been busy as bees in a wildflower meadow, tackling a myriad of projects that make our oasis flourish. But amidst our flurry of activity, we had a delightful twist of fate: a long-time social media follower finally made the pilgrimage to Eliguk, checking it off her bucket list. Meeting Jeni, after sharing a decade’s worth of virtual interactions, felt like reuniting with a long-lost friend beneath the towering…

"There’s something deeply inspiring about a married couple who chooses hardship over convenience, wilderness over comfort, and thrives together. Their skillset isn’t just rare. It’s practically mythic." - Anonymous. A simple comment from a stranger that resonated with me deeply. To have someone recognize the entirety of what we do, rather than reducing it to mere surface-level critiques or offering oversimplified solutions, felt profoundly validating. It’s as if they acknowledged not just the hard work, but the emotion and intention behind it all. In a world that often rushes to judge or suggest, this recognition brought a wave of relief and affirmation. It was a reminder that the journey we…