Where the Forest Was Waiting

When Petra and Eddie purchased their rural property near Port Hope in 2014, they knew what they were really buying. The old house was lovely. But it was the land that called to them.

“The draw was the forest,” Petra says simply. “We always thought we’d put trails in here one day so we could explore. We wanted to know, ‘what is going on in that beautiful forest?’”

For years, the answer to that question was unclear. The property had been largely left to grow as it wished, and the result was a dense, impassable thicket through much of the most beautiful terrain. Petra and Eddie could sense the forest’s potential, but they couldn’t reach it. Hidden beneath and behind the overgrowth were creek beds, marsh areas, a beaver dam, and stands of white pine estimated to be over a century old. To walk any real distance meant pushing through brush so thick, says Eddie, “you couldn’t even see each other.” Trails they tried to mark themselves went nowhere. They’d wander and get lost, laughing about it afterward, but the forest remained, in large part, closed for enjoyment.

Then they found Kyle Hokkanen and the Green Acres Forestry and Landscaping crew, and the story took a new turn.

“I called Kyle and he called back within an hour,” Eddie recalls. “Kyle said, ‘listen, let me come out there and see it, and we’ll walk through the forest and I can tell you what we can do.’ At the conclusion of the visit, he said: ‘I really believe we can make exactly what you want come true.’”

What followed was a collaboration that neither Petra nor Eddie expected. This wasn’t a case of pointing to a forest and stepping back. Every morning Eddie was out early with his coffee, meeting the crew as they arrived. Together they’d talk through the day, debating routes, weighing options, imagining what each turn of the trail might reveal. “Every day we discussed, ‘what are we going to do today?’” Eddie says. “And they were open minded about everything. They would also counsel me: that’s a great idea, but maybe come this way for these reasons. And that totally made sense because they’ve got the knowledge and the experience.”

For Petra, it was the spirit the crew brought with them that stood out most. “What made working with Kyle’s team so great was the thoughtfulness,” she says. “You could tell they loved the property.” She pauses, then adds: “It wasn’t their property, but they made me feel like they had this ownership.”

Kyle describes his philosophy in plain terms. “We’re not just anyone with a skid steer and a mulcher. We’re thoughtful. Our goal is to leave it vastly better than when we got here.” When the crew encountered the network of streams and wetlands threading through the property, they didn’t work around them. They built bridges: solid 12 by 12 timber crossings, engineered not just to be walked but to carry heavy equipment. “Those are going to last 100 years,” Kyle says. For him, crossing the water cleanly was non-negotiable. “We didn’t want to be polluting streams and muddying them up. So we built bridges that can serve now and in the future.”

Today, what Petra and Eddie have is something they describe, with no self-consciousness at all, as a provincial park of their own. A trail nearly ten kilometers long winds through the property, some of it barely visible until you’re on it, other branches opening suddenly into clearings lit by afternoon sun. An old airstrip has become a 500-metre promenade. Fox dens have multiplied in the log stacks Green Acres left as wildlife habitat, following recommendations from a government ten-year stewardship plan the couple commissioned. The beaver dam is thriving. Mushrooms and ferns are colonizing the forest floor. “I thought we were going to get a trail,” Eddie says. “We have a provincial park here, and it’s all our own. It’s just glorious.”

Nearly ten kilometres of trail now wind through the property.

“I can’t be in a bad mood when I come out here,” he continues. “It’s my therapy to walk through here every day.” Petra calls it something more: “The forest is like a church or a temple. It’s a place of peace. There’s something new every day when you come out here.” One of her favourite places to pause is near an inspiring gathering of trees that appear to have gathered with intention. She calls this living communion the seven sisters.

The couple intends to preserve this forest paradise, long after they are gone. Their plan is to sever the forest and place it in a local land trust, protecting it from development in perpetuity. “Trees and forests are what we need in this world,” Petra says. “We are just stewards right now. We’re lucky that we’re allowed to look after this place. I don’t even think of it as ours.” She reflects for a moment. “We’re just looking after it for now.”

For Kyle, this property stands apart from everything else in his portfolio. “This is bar-none one of the nicest properties I’ve worked on,” he says, looking out across the trail network his crew helped to build. “Sometimes we need a fresh pair of eyes on our own land to realize what is actually there,” Kyle reflects. “I feel privileged to contribute to this exceptional forest.”

Eddie and Petra already knew this property had generational potential. They just needed someone who could bring the skills, the tools and the collaborative spirit.

Petra and Eddie’s forest — from impassable thicket to ten kilometres of trail.

Have a forest you can’t get into? Let’s walk it together and find out what’s in there.