This would end up being one of those trips that, if I don’t dive into the details, its significance might be lost, not only to the people reading this, but to me as well. Anchorage to Bellingham, at least by the route I flew, is 2,300 miles. That’s the equivalent of driving from Halifax, Nova Scotia, to Miami, Florida. The difference, though, is that you’re flying through some of the most remote parts of North America at just 2,000 feet above the ground, battling the extreme elements this part of the world offers. Then, I was doing it alone.

For a long time, I was told over and over again that I was living the dream — flying around in helicopters, skiing, hiking, fishing, and exploring a remote part of Alaska. To give a little context, I spent five years living in my family’s dry cabin, working at a billionaire’s resort tucked deep in the Alaskan wilderness. Cut off from real life, I shared the dinner table and sat around campfires with some of the most influential people in the world. That place became my whole identity — to the point where, even years later, the first question I get from people is whether I’m still working there full time. I was living my dream but everything has a way of eventually fading.

Imagine this — you wake up in a lodge 60 miles from the nearest city, way out in the Alaskan wilderness. You walk downstairs to a hot pot of coffee waiting for you and a chef ready to take your breakfast order. It’s 7 a.m., and the first light starts hitting the peaks of the Tordrillo Mountains, perfectly framed in the windows of the lodge. With Mount Spurr, a tremoring volcano dominating the skyline, this remote lodge is nestled on its own lake at the foothills of some of the best skiing in the world.

As you sip your coffee, staring out at this surreal view, Nicole — the lodge manager — lets you know your breakfast is ready. After a morning at your own pace, your guide shows up to share the plan for the day with the group and gives you a 9:30 a.m. launch time.

He would return 4 days later….

No InReach, no satellite phone, no communication- just me, alone in a very far away place with no idea when the plane will be back to pick me up. All I was left with was my gear, a tent, ten days worth of food, my camera, and a gun.

I wanted a good hook for this post, so here’s what I’m thinking: A recent PhD graduate, a priest, an ex-Marine, and a French Bulldog share a canoe for four days, paddling and portaging 60 miles through one of the most unique Nationally Protected Wilderness parks in the United States.

I’ve played ice hockey for 20 years of my life, and nothing beats the sound of your skates cutting through a frozen lake. To get the opportunity to go out via plane in search of a beautiful place to tie up the skates, step out on a frozen lake, and pass a puck around with your friends has always been a dream of mine. I have talked about it for years, hoping to get the perfect weather window. What was once a dream is now one of those special moments in our lives

This year, my goal has been to work on those relationships I didn’t have time for. I quit my job, spent more time with my family and traveled the country. I’ve reconnected with old friends and made new ones, going on adventures with the people I care about. But I haven’t been able to spend time with everyone this year, it’s hard to get the timing right. As you grow older, time becomes more valuable, and you learn that life doesn’t wait. People move on, start families, fall into careers, and you end up missing out on opportunities as you get caught up in your own life. Ones you’ll never get back.