Our adventure to Sax-Zim Bog was everything a winter wildlife photography trip should be—challenging, breathtaking, and full of unforgettable moments. Shari, Kliff, and I set out hoping to experience the magic of this iconic boreal habitat, and it did not disappoint.The morning of our first day was crisp and still, the kind of quiet that makes the world feel vast and untouched. We spent the early hours searching for wildlife under an overcast sky, moving through the bog as the subdued winter light cast a soft glow over the landscape. By afternoon, the first flakes of snow began to fall—light at first, then steadily increasing until the entire scene was transformed into a world of white. The kind of snowfall that changes everything, blanketing the trees, softening the edges of the landscape, and adding an entirely new dimension to the experience.
And then came one of those moments that only happen in places like this. As we drove along, we noticed a sizeable crowd—about 20 cars and just as many photographers—gathered on the side of the road. An owl jam. We pulled over to see what the excitement was about, and that’s where I first ran into Protik. He had been the one to spot the Boreal Owl, and soon the crowd had formed around the sighting.
At first, the owl’s perch was difficult. It was tucked behind a tangle of branches, about 20 feet into the woods, making it nearly impossible to get a clean shot. The dense brush and trees made for a challenging composition, but we waited, hoping for a better opportunity. Eventually, the owl repositioned itself—moving to a more open perch where its intricate markings and piercing gaze became clearer. A life bird for me, my first-ever sighting of this elusive species. Without that jam, I would have missed it entirely. Seeing this tiny predator in the wild, perched among the trees, was nothing short of extraordinary. A bird I had long hoped to photograph, now in front of me at last, reminding me why I keep coming back to places like this.
Of course, we had to take a selfie to commemorate the moment. We sent it off to Tin Man Lee, who, in true Tin Man fashion, saw the photo, booked a red-eye flight, and showed up the very next morning. That man is crazy! But it just goes to show how powerful the pull of a place like Sax-Zim can be.
By the time we wrapped up our first day of shooting, the snow had accumulated enough to make the drive back to Cloquet a real challenge. Roads were slick and visibility was poor, making for a slow and careful journey. The next morning, we had no choice but to wait for the plows before heading back out.
Once we did, the fresh snow gave the landscape an entirely new look—everything felt untouched, wild, and absolutely stunning. We spent the second day exploring, letting the light and the snowfall dictate where we went, capturing as much of the beauty as we could.
Our first sighting of the day came as we spotted Protik and Tin Man at a distance, standing quietly near a Great Gray Owl perched deep in the bog. Tin Man had just arrived, fresh off his red-eye flight, wasting no time in joining Protik in the field. Even from afar, the owl commanded attention—its massive frame blending seamlessly with the winter landscape. It was a distant but unmistakable sighting, one of those moments that reminds you just how special this place is.
One particularly special moment came when we pulled up to a small group of photographers already gathered on the side of the road. Curious, we stopped to see what had caught their attention. Nestled under the brush, nearly invisible against the snowy landscape, was a Snowshoe Hare. Perfectly camouflaged and still, it blended so well into its surroundings that it was easy to miss at first. We had only a few moments to appreciate the sight before the distant rumble of a snowplow changed everything. As it neared, the small group had no choice but to move aside, and in an instant, the hare was gone—vanishing into the woods as quickly as it had appeared. A fleeting encounter, but a beautiful one nonetheless.
Later in the day, we spotted a Barred Owl while driving, noticing a few other cars already stopped ahead. Perched low in a tree right by the roadside, it sat motionless, its dark eyes watching us. We had only a few moments with it—just long enough to grab some shots—before it lifted off and disappeared into the forest, leaving us with nothing but the hush of the snow-covered trees.
Sax-Zim Bog never fails to remind me why I do this. The wildlife, the friendships, the challenge of working with the elements—it all comes together in a way that keeps pulling me back. And sharing it with Tin Man, Protik, Shari and Kliff made it all the more special. Another trip in the books, another set of memories made, and already looking forward to the next adventure.
If this kind of adventure speaks to you, reach out to me! I’ll be leading photography-specific trips to Sax-Zim Bog next year, giving others the chance to experience this stunning landscape and its incredible wildlife firsthand. Whether you’re looking to capture Great Gray Owls, and other owls, or just the raw beauty of winter in the Northwoods, it’s a journey you won’t want to miss.