Before we had even loaded the gear into the canoe, the lake had changed from gentle ripples to heaving troughs, tossing foam into the wind. I was all for unpacking the tents and creeping back into the woods, but my guide Colleen expected me to get onboard and start paddling, so I put on a brave face.
It took us six and a half hours to paddle seven miles. There isn't a word to describe how scared I was. It wasn't much comfort to know I had come all this way to find the shack of a long-dead fraud, drunk and serial bigamist called Archie Belaney.
When we finally turned into the calm, I felt as though my shoulders had converged into a painful lump at the back of my neck. But suddenly it was worth it, a true wilderness experience, and I could see what had brought Archie all the way from Hastings to northern Saskatchewan to reinvent himself as a Canadian Indian called Grey Owl.
When he first saw Ajawaan lake, Archie knew this was the place he was looking for. Here he wrote some of the books that were to make him famous as one of the world's first conservationists.
My journey to Ajawaan started at the village of Waskesiu, a pleasant resort with boutiques, restaurants, and one of the most beautiful golf courses in the province. But we decided to forego these pleasures and drove the 15 miles to where the road peters out. There, we parked the car, unloaded the canoe, and were on our way.
We began very gently along a quiet little river, the Kingsmere, lined with cat-tail reeds. This peaceful introduction to paddling a canoe was perfect for a first-timer like myself, and I soon got into the rhythm of it. However, once we reached Kingsmere lake, after about a mile and half of paddling, it was a different story - now it was time for some real canoeing.
There was also a sense of isolation, of being the only two human beings on a vast expanse of water, the horizon of our destination way out of sight.
The lake is 11 miles long straight down the middle. But forget about the middle - the golden rule is stick to the shore line, which makes the journey longer but is much safer. These lakes can be whipped up in a matter of minutes - and you're out of luck if you are caught in the centre.
Along the way, we saw bald eagles and kingfishers. Red squirrels scampered along the shore as we pulled in at Northend, the last campsite before reaching the cabin.
The campsites in the park are spartan but clean - all campers carry out their own rubbish. There's a place for a fire, a toilet - usually tucked away in the trees - and a raised platform reached by a wooden ladder where food must be stashed overnight, out of reach of the black bears. They look cuddly and friendly, but they are unpredictable and physically powerful. All they think about is food: they will eat anything from a can of beans to a tube of toothpaste. Even lipstick.
Through the open flap of my tent, I saw the great sweep of the northern lights and dozed off to the lament of loons - diver birds. Early in the morning, a plume of mist rose through the pale sunshine, rising across the lake like a white rainbow. I heard the howling of wolves in the distance and a dawn chorus of unknown songs from birds with unfamiliar names.
We walked the remaining couple of miles to the lake. The sun shone through glades of birch and aspen and the undergrowth was full of rustlings. It was a narrow trail, soft underfoot with moss and leaves, little changed since Grey Owl hauled his canoe along here.
The cabin stands by the edge of the lake, surrounded by thick forest. Built from rounded logs with a traditional caulking of moss, it incorporates the beaver lodge from which the building takes its name. The beavers, which often feature in Grey Owl's writings and whom he called "the wilderness personified", would enter the one-room cabin from the lake via an underwater entrance.
The bed he constructed from stripped pine saplings stands against the wall, as does his blackened wood-burning stove. The cabin is unlocked and unattended, and visitors are free to enter.
As we sat on the porch in the sun, the only sounds were the light plop of a fish in the lake, the chatter of the birds, and the scuttlings of squirrels. Up a nearby slope is the cabin built for Grey Owl's wife, Anahareo (real name Gertrude Bernard), when their daughter was born. Close by in a clearing are the gravestones marking the spot where all three are buried.
As we set out for the return hike to the campsite, a silver fox walked across the path in front of us; we froze, and he did too, eyes and ears quickly checking us out, then calmly continued on his way, his great silver bush of a tail disappearing into the forest.
My trip was by canoe and on foot, as this is how Grey Owl would have travelled, but you can reach the cabin entirely on foot. Park officials recommend taking at least two days to complete the 25 mile round-trip. The trail begins at the Kingsmere river and follows the east shore of Kingsmere, lake alternating between forested pathways and stretches of beach walking. The beaches are fine for sunbathing, but you need to be hardier than me to swim in these northern lakes. They are never warm enough even in the height of summer.
About eight miles along the trail is a mineral lick, a good spot to look for signs of moose, deer, bear and wolves.
To preserve the wilderness experience, the park has deliberately limited access to the trail. One of the three campsites, Chipewyan, contains only two berths, a double and a single.
The Grey Owl trail is a popular attraction, but there's much more to Prince Albert National Park. It spreads over 405,000 hectares (1m acres) in the middle of Saskatchewan and sits on the southern edge of a great forest of spruce, pine, birch and aspen. There are more nesting songbirds here than anywhere else in North America - more than 230 species - elk, badger, lynx, osprey eagle, a flock of rare white pelicans and a free-roaming herd of plains bison. It is also one of the few places left in the world where timber wolves live undisturbed.
Grey Owl would be pleased to see that his world remains largely unchanged, and, I'm sure, encouraged by its continuing ability to inspire awe in those who have chosen to follow in his footsteps.
• Richard Attenborough's film biography, Grey Owl, opened yesterday.
The practicals
Canadian Airlines (0870 524 7226) flies from Heathrow to Saskatoon via Calgary for £461 return. Vehicle rentals are available at Saskatoon Airport. See www. virtualsk.com for details. There is also a bus once a day to Prince Albert National Park. For further information, contact Prince Albert National Park, PO Box 100, Waskesiu Lake, Saskatchewan SOJ 2YO, Canada (tel: 001 306 663 4522, e-mail: panp.info@pch.gc .ca, website, www.parcscanada.gc.ca/parks/saskatchewan/prince_albert/Prince_albert_e.htm Also check out Visit Canada Centre 0891 715000.
