There are many ways to get to Ely, Minn., from Atikokan, Ontario.

Jason Zabokrtsky has picked one of the most difficult.

He’ll walk. Off trail. And swim.

Alone.

On Friday, Zabokrtsky, 39, will begin a journey that is either half-baked or brilliant — both, he says — that will take him through the heart of Quetico Provincial Park and the Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness.

The vast majority of people who travel that lake-splattered landscape do so by canoe. Or by dogsled in winter. A few cleared trails can be hiked.

Eschewing such conventions, Zabokrtsky has swapped out his canoe for a dry suit, and he mapped the roughly 80-mile route to avoid water, cleared paths and just about everything else most people associate with the picturesque North Woods.

Why?

“It builds on the skills I have,” said Zabokrtsky, who owns Ely Outfitting Co. and Boundary Waters Guide Service. “It’s a personal challenge.”

But there’s something else.

“I have a pretty solid understanding of the region and what’s up here,” he said. “But virtually everybody sees this part of the world from the portages and the campsites and the trails and the lakes. The real mystery is what lies beyond the trees. In modern times, nobody goes back there.”

Paul Schurke, owner of Wintergreen Dogsled Lodge in Ely and a friend of Zabokrtsky, said there’s a chance no human has set foot in parts of Zabokrtsky’s route for centuries.

“There’s stuff in there waiting to be seen,” he said.

Schurke also sees humor in the venture. “Short of pogo-sticking the woods, this is about as novel a method of canoe-country travel as you can come up with.”

There’s good reason few bushwhack the backwoods. What might seem a lush forest from a postcard or distant shore is a rugged, nearly impenetrable thicket: thick spruce stands with twigs sharp enough to tear fabric and flesh; face-lashing alder bramble offering little visibility; floating bogs where the wrong step could swallow you; boot-sucking swamps; ankle-twisting boulder fields. The list goes on.

“It’s a slog,” said Zabokrtsky, whose backcountry experience includes winter dogsled guiding for Schurke, canoe camping and shorter bushwhacking excursions.

“It takes somebody who knows the terrain to realize how half-baked it is. It’s not death-defying. It’s all about slow and steady.”

At six miles a day, he figures his journey will take two weeks.

He selected his route after consulting with a forest ecologist who directed him to the most mature stands of trees, where undergrowth is less likely to scratch cheeks and obscure footfalls. “The big hazard is the footing, a slip and fall,” he said. “If I twist my ankle or wrench my knee, then it’s over.”

He’ll carry a satellite phone, and a cadre of friends has committed to fetch him should he become stranded.

He’ll also use the satellitte phone to call in updates, which will be posted at facebook.com/ElyOutfittingCompany.

The trip wasn’t planned as a solo adventure. Originally, it involved four people.

He’ll find his way via a combination of old-school map-and-compass and new-school technology.

“I have GPS units, but after I looked into everything, you know what? I’m using my iPhone,” he said.

Armed with satellite images and topographical maps, the smartphone and Motion X GPS app can provide more information than a handheld GPS unit, he said.

His gear includes the basic list of backcountry accoutrements — tent, sleeping bag, lightweight stove, dehydrated meals — and some nontraditional ones. A dry suit will come in handy when he has to cross water, which will be necessary on at least several occasions. When swimming, he’ll stash his backpack in a floating dry bag and tow it behind.

Zabokrtsky chose to begin the trip in the fall because, well, that’s when he has the time.

“The spring would probably be the best, before the leaves come in,” he said. “The days would be longer. But as soon as the ice goes out, I have to be open for business.”

The most challenging part of his journey could come toward the end, after he swims across the Basswood River near Wheelbarrow Falls into the U.S.

“In Quetico, you can camp anywhere you want, but in the Boundary Waters, you can only camp at designated campsites,” he said. “So I really tried to minimize the amount of the trip in the Boundary Waters.”

It’s unclear when, if ever, such a route has been attempted before, but Zabokrtsky said he isn’t out to claim any mantle of firsts.

“In my circles around Ely, nobody’s ever heard of anyone who’s done this,” he said. “The last time people were really back there was prospectors and surveyors and trappers. Maybe they did it. Of course, native people walked around those woods all the time.”

Nor is there any charity or larger cause.

That’s just fine, said Will Steger, the explorer whose worldwide expeditions often accompany a call for attention to such heady issues as global warming and shrinking polar ice.

“I do solos like that,” said Steger, an Ely resident who is acquainted with Zabokrtsky but wasn’t aware of his plans until a reporter called him. “I never talk about them, but I do trips like that, in the Boundary Waters and Quetico. I usually go in April, when the ice is just breaking up.”

Steger uses the terrain to test techniques, such as the “canoe sled system” he and his team developed to trek across weakening Arctic sea ice on a journey from Russia to Canada in the mid-1990s.

But he also uses them to test himself.

“Yes, it’s in your back yard, but it can still be an epic trip,” Steger said. “I totally understand what he’s doing. It’s a great idea, and I commend him for thinking outside the box and challenging himself. Of course, it’s not for everyone.

“It’s a way of getting on that edge and finding out what you’re all about.”

When he leaves the Boundary Waters, Zabokrtsky won’t call for a ride.

“I’ll keep going to Ely. I’ll pretty much walk back to work.”

Dave Orrick can be reached at 651-228-5512. Follow him at twitter.com/OutdoorsNow.