Dawn Elmore

When I left Northern Ontario at age 17, I wanted the big city. I wanted a high-profile job in Toronto, I wanted to drive on the 401 everyday, and I wanted my life to be fast-paced and exciting. I thought growing up in the country half an hour north of Thunder Bay, Ontario was boring. I thought Thunder Bay was a hick town where everyone was behind the times and where my best chance of getting a well-paying job was to be promoted to supervisor at Laura Secord in Intercity mall.

So I left. I packed up my things and went off to school in Southern Ontario and never looked back. I finished school, got a job, and began my young adult life. As the years passed, small realizations came to me at very odd times. One day, while hiking the Bruce Trail in Hamilton, I saw a small waterfall passing over the rocks of the Niagara escarpment. At the same time, I smelt a most disgusting smell coming from the water. This pretty scene was ruined by the smell of sewer on a hot summer day.

I developed a craving for those sunny summer days where the blue sky is so pure and the sun is warm on your skin. I realized that in Southern Ontario the sun is usually hidden on beautiful summer days by a grey, cloudy layer of smog. When it is hot in Northern Ontario, you simply jump into the nearest lake for a swim to cool down. On one stifling day in Southern Ontario, I remember driving for half an hour to find a body of water that I would consider jumping into, and then waiting in line in my car for over an hour to finally get to a small, man-made lake that was so crowded I could barely dive in to go for a swim. I tried on another warm, summer day to go for a canoe ride down the Grand River. I was not prepared to see the dead fish floating in the river as I paddled along.

I realized sitting in your car in traffic for hours is not as much fun as it seemed to be when the exhilaration of the "big city" was still fresh for me. Over the years, I came to resent this wasted time that I spent each day sitting and staring at the people in the cars around me, dreaming about all the other things I could be doing.

I slowly started to realize all the things I had taken for granted as a teenager. The freedom to jump in the water, the bush parties where you slept out all night under the stars, and going to camps where you could have a sauna in the winter and jump out into the piles of snow; these are all things my new Southern Ontario friends had never experienced. After explaining to them that a "camp" was the same thing as what they called a "cottage", they were amazed that one didn't have to sit in traffic on Highway 400 for 4 hours to get there on a Friday night!

At age 26, an amazing opportunity presented itself to me. In Southern Ontario, I met a fellow Northerner from Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario and we moved in together. We shared a common respect and longing to live life the way we were raised in the North. On a fateful visit to Sault Ste. Marie two years ago, we decided to stop in at some local businesses and get a feel for the employment situation in the city. We were greeted with a pleasant surprise, and found that the city is facing a shortage of skilled workers in many areas.

My boyfriend asked if I would ever consider moving to Sault Ste. Marie. I replied "in a second", and it was decided right then and there. We put our small, two-bedroom bungalow on a busy street in Hamilton up for sale. The highly-inflated housing prices in Hamilton resulted in our being able to purchase a waterfront home on one acre of land in Goulais River, Ontario for a much lower price than what we sold the house in Hamilton for.

I began my job search as soon as we moved in, and was employed a week later. Within 2 months, I found an even better job making more money than I was making in Southern Ontario. My boyfriend had his job secured even before we moved in.

I now spend my free time (of which there is significantly more) hiking, swimming, snowshoeing, skiing, snowmobiling, and fishing. I can do all these activities from my front door without ever setting foot in my car. If I choose to drive, it takes fifteen minutes to get to some of the most beautiful beaches in the country.

I am most confident of the decision I made to return to Northern Ontario when I am driving home down the mile hill on Highway 17 and I see the setting sun reflecting shadows over the Robertson Lake cliffs and the Goulais River valley. When I see this sight, I feel so lucky to be able to live and work in one of the most beautiful places in the world.