All this talk about Canada made me nostalgic, so I tried locating the first house I lived in in Canada. It, and the rest of the farm buildings, have been demolished though, so here's a view of the street instead (that's our old driveway on the left).
I would say it's the middle of nowhere, but really it's the edge of nowhere, because all the land on the right hand side of the road is America. I probably crossed the border illegally hundreds of times as a kid, as my dog didn't really care about borders.
This is the view in the other direction. The road on the American side of the border is the back road north from the closest American town (the main road north goes directly to a border crossing), so people would often drive the back road with contraband, which they'd often throw into the ditch next to where the road turns west (easy to find again from the Canadian side) which they'd pick up once they'd gone through the crossing.
The police knew this though, and had a lookout on a hill near our property. Watching people get busted used to be fun when we were kids.