Chad Guenter, a firefighter and rescue instructor in Canmore, Alberta, stands six-foot-three, weighs 250 pounds, and is covered in tattoos. He has seen a lot of troubling things while working: a seven-day-old baby who died of cardiac arrest, the bodies of three railroad engineers he helped recover from the crumpled wreck of a freight train.…
“If one were to engineer the optimal activity to help us not only navigate but even enjoy the cold, dark months ahead, it would need to satisfy certain criteria. To be safe amid this pandemic, it should be outdoors, regardless of snow or sleet. It should provide a boost for our bodies and brains, to…
Last weekend, I had planned to go for what would perhaps be my final paddle of 2019. Then, on Saturday night, the day-long rainfall that raised the river level (and would have made paddling more fun!) abruptly changed to snow as the temperature plummeted. So on Sunday, with blowing snow whipping around the city, I…
Growing up in Ontario, Mark Scriver paddled anything that floated. He started canoeing with his family as a kid, then drifted into kayaking, progressing from flatwater to whitewater. In 1985, Scriver moved to Ottawa and joined the crew of canoeists and kayakers who played on the standing waves that rise for a couple months…
Three and a half years. That’s how long I’ve been working as a writer at Carleton University — and how long I’ve been looking at the rapids on the Rideau River, just upstream from the O-Train bridge, thinking about taking a run at them on my paddleboard. It doesn’t help (or hurt, depending on your…
Stand-up paddleboarding is usually associated with places defined by warm waters. Like, say, Belize. Newfoundland, where the Atlantic Ocean off the east coast soars to a summer average of about 12°C (and a balmy 15°C or so off the west coast), is not one of these places. My trip to the island a couple weeks ago…
For those of you who don’t live in Canada and/or don’t recognize the iconic building in this photo, it’s the back of the Centre Block on Parliament Hill. I’m on the choppy waters of the Ottawa River, riding the wakes of power boats and cooling off with frequent swims amid an early summer heat wave.…
The narrow highway is flanked by a pair of mist-shrouded mountains. Hairpin turns descend to the head of a long freshwater loch. As we pull over to behold the view down the glen, sunlight glistens off a rainbow and the soaring drone of bagpipes comes on the radio, which is tuned to BBC Gaelic, one…
born to walk (and paddleboard) 