It’s been a great trip—we’re about halfway through—and I’ve had my eye on the topo maps, specifically a high overlook/campsite above Black Bear Island Lake. It should be grand. We’ve seen no other paddlers in 220 miles, so I know it will be open. Towards evening we get there and.. it’s not. Open, that is. I am tired and disappointed. Needlessly irritated. I don’t even look at the party as we paddle by. But in a few more miles we find a lovely little island and a fine camp for the night.

In the morning we break camp and just as we pull out I see the other canoeing party approaching us. It has to be them. In a better mood now, I wait. We meet six nice guys. In a few moments the apparent leader begins to ply us with questions. Who are you kids? Where are you all from? Where are you going? I answer—We began on Ille a la Crosse, we’re headed for Cumberland House, and we’re retracing—“Oh, I know. You’re retracing Sig Olson’s Lonely Land trip.”

“Well, how’d you happen to know that?” I ask.

“We’re all members of the Saskatchewan Historic Trails Canoe Club. Back in the day, Sig had some questions about this route I was able to answer for him.”

Meanwhile I am looking at the river guidebook pamphlets we’ve been using on our trip—where to portage, where to run rapids… There’s a guy’s picture on the cover. “Is this you?” I ask. “Well, it used to be. That picture was taken 20 years ago.” Turns out he and his club wrote those guidebooks.

We then learn that our friendly interlocutor is named Milow Worel. He and his group paddle with us for the rest of the morning, run a rapids or two, then at lunchtime Milow sits down and, freehand and without notes, proceeds to draw out all the rapids and tricky spots on the remaining 300 miles of our journey. “You guys know what you are doing—don’t worry about the guidebooks. These sketches will tell you what you need to know.” Very impressive.

Finally, as the ‘kicker’ for this remarkable encounter, Milow says that he has all the original photos from Sig’s Lonely Land journey and… how would I like to have them? The Saskatchewan MNR was clearing out old files and throwing them out. Milow happened to be visiting that day and claimed them. Now they are on my book shelf with all my Sig Olson books, with a set of copies in the possession of the Listening Point Foundation.

This whole story is told in my new memoir, ‘A Wild Path,’ in slightly more literary form.

The other day I received a message from a woman in Saskatchewan. She was ‘googling’ information about her dad, who passed away in 2011. In the process she found him mentioned in a book. In a chapter about fate and serendipity and canoeing a wild river. Her sister then sent along a couple of photos from that day, our day on the Churchill with her dad. “Is this you?” she asked. Like an echo from 37 years ago. “Well, it used to be,” I answered. And I thanked them both for reaching out.

We are now corresponding—Franni and her sister Mary and I. Their brother Ralph is working on getting their dad’s many hand-drawn maps of the Canadian bush published. I’m sending them an autograph for their book. And the serendipity continues. What a fine journey it is.

Thanks, Milow.