Riding the rails to James Bay

An unlikely introduction

When Steve Evans got the itch to ride a bike up to James Bay, a friend suggested he reach out to “the only guy who could help” — a near-mythical Canadian bushman. Steve reached out, and soon enough, he was drawn into Buck Miller’s world of gritty backcountry know-how. “He’s the kind of guy who could win that show Alone,” Steve laughed, marveling at Buck’s wilderness skills.

This would be no simple bike trip. Steve had fixated on finding a route to the remote James Bay since watching Buck tackle the James Bay winter road, a brutal trek that stuck with him. Buck, however, quickly warned him off it. “You can’t bike it in the summer, man — it’s all muskeg,” Buck told him, explaining how dense and swampy the terrain was. “The only solid ground is the railway.” It was all Steve needed to hear; he’d have to invent a solution.

Prototype after prototype

The idea was simple enough: design a rail bike attachment that could glide over the unused railways cutting through the wilderness. But the execution? Not so much. Over the next two years, Steve experimented with various prototypes, tinkering and testing on abandoned tracks near Sault Ste. Marie. “I don’t know how many versions I built,” he said. “But each one brought me closer.” His final prototype, a lightweight aluminum rail attachment, was designed to hold up on the tracks and quickly detach if a train came rumbling.

This summer, he knew it was ready. He called Buck with the news and the two mapped out their route. Starting from Fraserdale, north of Cochrane, they’d pedal the 200 kilometers along the tracks, finishing the last 15 kilometers by boat to James Bay.

Hunting season

Buck, it turned out, had a different idea of what this trip would be. “I thought we were just biking,” Steve laughed, recounting his surprise when Buck began hunting birds on the trail, expertly skinning and cooking wild grouse along the way. “I’d never even seen an animal shot, let alone eaten one that was freshly skinned.” For Steve, it was a whole new level of wild — he was used to backcountry camping but hadn’t encountered this blend of survivalism and skill. “He’s a bushman,” he said simply. “It was awesome. Totally crazy for me, but awesome.”

Bending the rules

Of course, there was one tiny catch; the tracks they were on? Technically, they…