2026 is the year of the bucket list.

The year of saying “yes” before my brain has time to list 47 imaginary reasons to say “absolutely not.”

The year of turning 30 and realizing that maybe the only thing scarier than trying new things… is not trying them at all.

Which is how I found myself — after one dangerously casual Google search and a single email sent with the confidence of someone who had not yet considered the logistics — booking dog sledding.

This has been at the top of my list for years.

Not the polite “oh that would be nice someday” kind of years.

The aggressively lurking in the back of my mind kind of years.

No time ever felt right.

Or, more honestly, I never felt brave enough to find out if I could actually do it.

And then suddenly — there I was. Emailing my buddy Paul and booking a half-day excursion for a whole crew of us to launch ourselves directly out of our comfort zones together.

Enter: The Main Characters (The Dogs, Obviously)

My search led me to Paul, owner of Boreal Journeys Sled Dog Kennels, which — according to his social media — specializes in experiences for people exactly like me: enthusiastic in spirit, questionable in coordination.

But nothing could have prepared us for pulling into his driveway the day after a full-blown snowpocalypse.

Fresh snow everywhere. Trees frosted like a Christmas movie set. And then — the sound. Not barking. Not howling. SCREAMING WITH JOY.

Forty-ish dogs losing their minds because THEY get to run. Honestly? Same.

Sixteen of my favourite humans piled out of vehicles, immediately grinning like we’d just arrived at adult summer camp. In between runs we roasted hot dogs, made s’mores, and pretended this was a normal way to spend a winter day and not the most wholesome action movie montage of our lives.

Things I Learned (Besides the Location of Several New Muscles)

Paul and his team taught us:

• How to harness the dogs
• The commands (and no, it’s not “mush,” which feels like a personal betrayal by every cartoon ever)
• How to shift our weight
• How much work the humans actually have to do

Because here’s the thing nobody tells you… you are not just standing there looking majestic.

You are:

• Running
• Braking
• Balancing
• trying not to wipe out in front of your friends
• emotionally attached to your dog team within 12 seconds

It was magic.

It was exhausting.

It was the most fun I’ve had while being aggressively humbled by cardio.

Each of us took a couple of runs, and every single time we came back with the same wide-eyed, out-of-breath, “AGAIN” energy.

Teamwork Makes the Dream Work (Literally). Dog sledding is not a passive experience — and that’s what made it so good.

You work with the dogs.

You help them.

You move together.

It’s fast.

It’s loud.

It’s quiet in the woods in that peaceful, snow-falling kind of way.

It’s a full-body workout disguised as pure joy.

And doing it with a group of people you love?

Elite life moment.

The Grand Finale: The Post-Run Dog Pile

We ended the day flat on our backs in the snow, being smothered with love by these incredible dogs, discovering muscle groups we did not consent to activating.

And Eddie? House favourite. Icon. Legend.

Zero regrets. Ten out of ten. Would do again in a heartbeat (after a short recovery period and possibly a bath in Epsom salts).

Here’s the thing. The fear wasn’t about dog sledding. It was about trying something I might not be good at. And guess what? I wasn’t good at it, and it was still one of the best days of my life.

So, this is your sign — especially in winter, when it’s easy to hibernate and romanticize your couch — to go book the thing.

Try the thing.

Fall off the metaphorical sled.

Laugh about it later.

If you’re anywhere near Thunder Bay, gather your people and make it happen.

Because experiences like this? They don’t just check a box. They light a fire. Your Turn, make the most of winter, and do the thing that’s been sitting on your list for years.

And if you need a starting point — email Paul at info@borealjourneys.ca and thank me later.

Your comfort zone will still be there when you get back. But you? You’ll be faster, braver, and possibly covered in dog hair… worth it.