Gateway to grandeur

I nominate Provincial Road 307 as Manitoba’s loveliest worst drive.

Voted repeatedly in CAA surveys as Manitoba’s worst road, PR 307 is nonetheless the province’s most adventure-packed route for overnighters and energetic day-trippers. Let’s give 307 some loving. And more repairs.

About an hour outside Winnipeg at Whitemouth Falls, I watched teens hop onto rocks between tumbling cascades. I’d never do that — except for a photo. Their dad then tiptoed across a waterfall. His thirteen-year-old daughter yelled, “If you die, I want your truck!” That sure motivated him.

Three pelicans chose a cascade to watch for hapless fish. I waited for action with my camera. Pelicans are more patient than me.

The next-door community of Seven Sisters Falls is home to Seven Sisters Motel (“Our beer is colder than your ex’s heart”); Dunlop’s Tourist Hotel (“Open 7 days”); and Jennifer’s Restaurant (“11:00 am to 7:13 p.m.” and “Kangaroo Burger + Fries”).

Announcing 2025 as its last year, Jennifer’s also serves renowned schnitzel. But never ask to modify your meal, not even salad dressing on the side. Chef Jozef insists he’s not a slave and has rights; another sign exclaims “No Means No.”

At Seven Sisters’ monstrous Hydro generating station, excuse the vulgar sign saying “Dam Parking Area.” Above a thunderous roar, walk on the structure. The Winnipeg River bursts so noisily through the gates below, you’ll wonder how you crossed on a day it didn’t give out.

Entering Whiteshell Provincial Park (with no entry fee this summer), Big Creek’s docks tease for what’s ahead. 307 hugs Eleanor Lake where Riverview Lodge signals the first of several wonderful family-run resorts, most with stores packed with souvenirs and goodies.

At Otter Falls Campground office, I asked a nagging question: “Where are the falls?”

Staff quipped, “There’s ripples!” Busted.

For picnics at the ensuing roadside beach, Otter Falls Resort offers chicken poutine — with honey dill. Only in Manitoba.

Further, Dorothy Lake’s longer beach bustles on hot weekends. The lesser-known Opapiskaw Campground features rapids during high water, beaches and several forest-enfolded, sunset-swathed lakeview sites that are a tightly held family secret.

At Nutimik Lake, the rebuilt Whiteshell Museum opens this season. Nearby, Nutimik Lodge hosts Barkley’s Diner for take-out. Barkley is a sasquatch statue in a shed. Among crayoned pictures of Barkley displayed last summer, one child just had to add “I like unicorns and girls.” Savour tater-tot pulled pork poutine with farmer sausage. Only in Manitoba.

In Nutimik Campground, stroll to the lofty 86-metre-long Whiteshell River Suspension Bridge. Seeing “No diving” signs, I wondered, “Who’d be that foolish?” A fellow from a group then approached and asked, “Can we go off here?”

Hiking further to Sturgeon Falls, I queried oncoming folks, “Am I halfway?” Answer: “Sort of.”

I later asked, “Am I close?” Reply: “Relatively.”

I then asked a guy, “What time do they turn the falls off?” He kept walking.

Margie said, “I’m so embarrassed.” I replied, “Yeah, he obviously doesn’t know.”

Twenty minutes later, white noise surges from furious waters exploding against rocks and counter-currents. Although Sturgeon Falls is more like rapids, I remarked to hikers, “Don’t tell Hydro about this one!”

At Nutimik Campground’s beach, thrill-seekers leap into Nutimik Lake from Blueberry Hill’s cliff. As I tread across it, a joker asked, “Goin’ off the 60-footer?” I replied, “Only if kidnapped by terrorists and thrown — or for a photo.”

Then I asked a chap, “How much do you think the cliff weighs?” He pondered.

Margie whispered, “I’m so embarrassed.”

He finally concluded, “Pretty heavy.”

Further down 307, a trail enters onto a huge flat rock called Bannock Point. Ages ago Indigenous people laid stones in shapes like circles, snakes and turtles. It’s great that visitors are welcome to observe this sacred phenomenon. Elder Ron Bell mapped GPS co-ordinates of these petroforms. Turtles point to lakes. Snakes point to rivers. None point the way out.

I read a sign — but after leaving. It said “It is easy to become disoriented if you venture into heavily wooded areas.”

I’m drawn to heavily wooded areas.

As I traipsed with a booter among the trees, Margie retraced our steps and called to me. Or I’d still be there.

A kilometre further, hike to Pine Point Rapids. During normal rainfall, these are more like falls. Lie on bedrock as rushing waters massage. Strong swimmers slide down the cascade and get dunked. I did too — for a photo.

At Foresters Footsteps Trail, add a rock to Betty the Betula Rock Snake. Follow the Trail to blueberries galore in moist years. But a still-upset friend reports that, behind your back, a local bear will devour your cherished pailful. I, however, partake while picking — as a safety precaution.

Ten kilometres further, White Lake Resort serves Portuguese dishes. Bifana! Risois!

Then, drive the park road to Rainbow Falls. Wade below whooshing — yes! — falls. Adventurous swimmers locate boulders under Rainbow’s whirlpool to go with the flow. Current events.

Later, gaze from the astounding cliff concealed behind Brereton Lake’s tennis court. On Brereton Lake Resort’s deck, Kim and Greg’s pizza excels, or open wide for the 10-topping Brereton Burger. Go ahead — modify your meal.

Jokers might call it a goat path or go-cart track, but 307 remains Manitoba’s gateway to grandeur.

gordmackintosh9@gmail.com