When did you first fall in love with Lake Superior?
AK: It was November 1976 — a 21-year-old Toronto kid heading to Northwestern Ontario, a
thousand miles from home to begin what would become a 38-year career with the Ontario
Provincial Police. I felt no fear of the unknown, and as I turned northbound out of Sault Ste.
Marie, Lake Superior greeted me with the most magnificent vistas I had ever seen — mile after
mile, for the next 435 miles. Little did I know then, the Big Lake had plans for me in the years to
come. What I didn’t realize until decades later, in 2019, was that my search for the unknown had
quietly become a search for stories, for history, and for the enduring Majesty and Lure of the
lake.
Now that you’ve spent considerable time visiting all the shores and people, what has
surprised you, delighted you and confirmed for you that this is your “spiritual home away
from home”?
AK: No matter where I went, it was the local people — kind folks on both the U.S. and Canadian
sides — who offered insights and led me to places less traveled. Whether they gave me five
minutes or several days of their time, they shared local history and the deep spiritual connection
they felt with the lake. And I realized immediately: that same connection was what had been
driving me all along. As I delved into the lake’s past, it was the Indigenous journey and culture
that truly lit the fire, inspiring me to photograph, film, and do my best to honor the rich stories,
legends of both past and present through my Lake Superior Circle Tour docuseries on YouTube.
How does making pictures and video enhance your experience of the region? Do you look
in different places than you might or see things in a different way?
Absolutely. You can race around Lake Superior’s 1,300 miles in a few days and still have a great
time — but for me, my career instilled a ‘turn-every-stone, never-quit’ mindset. Making pictures
and video transforms how I experience the region. It forces me to slow down, dig deeper, and
engage with every story — not just as an observer, but as a participant. Through the lens, I see
differently. I notice details, feel the weight of history, and connect with people and places in
ways I wouldn’t otherwise. And it doesn’t end when the camera stops. Writing and producing the
episodes lets me relive it all — and more importantly, it sparks new questions, emotions, and
stories I never saw coming.
What would your one piece of advice be for a newbie visiting the shore?
AK: Slow down. Stop and say hello to a local. Ask what life is really like along the shores of Lake
Superior. Find out where they go — not just the popular spots, but the hidden, remote places that
don’t make the brochures. If you open yourself to life on and around the Big Lake, I guarantee it
will offer something more than beauty — a kind of spiritual rejuvenation. Just be warned: Lake
Superior has a way of capturing your heart… and never letting go.
What do you tell your Toronto peeps about your Lake Love?
AK: I tell them Lake Superior isn’t just a place — it’s a presence. The Majesty and the Lure go far
beyond landscapes and stories; it’s a spiritual force that grips your soul and never lets go.
Whether I’m standing on her rocky shore or a thousand miles away, she’s always with me —
calling me back with her enormity, her mystery, and her power. And every time I relive it through
my video productions and share it with the world, the connection only deepens — more intense,
more unshakable.
Finally, what makes Ontario’s shore especially special?
AK: Throughout my career and personal life, I’ve travelled Ontario’s Lake Superior shore and its vast
northern wilderness more times than I can count. I’ve often stood in awe of the rugged,
mountainous coastline — but it wasn’t until seven years ago, when I began researching, filming,
and photographing the region, that something shifted. The more I explored — from well-known
Provincial Parks to famous Indigenous legendary sites — the deeper the lake pulled me in. It led
me to places few people go, to kindred spirits who share a reverence for this land, and to remote
corners where whispers of the past still linger. I’ve lugged heavy gear through dense forest,
walked shorelines of loose rock the size of bowling balls, and felt — without a doubt — that I
wasn’t alone. The presence of those who came before, and the watchful eyes of the wild, are
always with me. Being there, truly feeling it, left me with no question: these stories need to be
shared.
