Riding the river: Rediscovering my city through surfing
Sport28.07.2025
Having lived by the ocean for much of my life, I’ve always felt a deep pull toward the water. Afternoon swims, sailing with friends, and, most of all, surfing; it’s where I’ve always felt most like myself. So when I moved back to Ottawa, I quietly mourned the loss of that part of my life. Surfing, I figured, would become a rare indulgence, something I’d squeeze into the occasional vacation and trip out east to visit friends.
Surfing has been a through-line in my life for as long as I can remember. My dad, a lifelong lover of water sports, passed down his passion, and from a young age, the ocean felt like home. I’d spend hours watching surfers from the shore, completely mesmerized, knowing that one day I wanted to be out there too.
I first learned to ride waves at the beach near my grandparents’ condo, stuck in the whitewash with my dad pushing the back of the board while my arms could barely paddle. Even after we moved inland to Ottawa, I found ways to keep surfing, on family trips back to Florida or visits to the East Coast with friends.
In university, I rediscovered it in the frigid waters off Halifax, and later, living in New Zealand, surfing finally became part of my everyday rhythm. It’s always been more than a sport to me; it’s a feeling of freedom, presence, and learning. Every wave is different, and that’s what makes it so endlessly exciting.
I never expected to fall in love with surfing again in a city known for its long winters and government buildings. But everything changed when my friend from university came to visit from St. John’s. She and her partner had discovered Ottawa’s river surfing scene. They convinced me to give it a try, something I’d been secretly curious about for years but too intimidated to attempt on my own.
What took me two years to work up the courage to try ended up giving me the most joyful spring I’ve had since moving back. From the moment I stepped onto the riverbank, I was met with warmth, encouragement, and a true sense of community. The river surfers were generous with their knowledge, eager to welcome newcomers, and deeply committed to safety, not out of rigidity, but out of love for the wave and the culture they’ve built around it.
What struck me most was how different this felt from the surf culture I had known. There was no ego, no unspoken hierarchy, just people showing up for the simple love of being on the water. Experienced surfers offered tips with kindness and patience. And every wipeout was met with laughter, not judgment.
River surfing reminded me how much a place can surprise you when you let it. It made me look at Ottawa with fresh eyes, not as the city I returned to out of familiarity, but as one filled with unexpected beauty and adventure.
The season is brief, just a few short weeks between the ice melt and the drop in water levels, but what an epic few weeks they are. It gave me back a feeling I didn’t realize I’d been missing. And more than anything, I found joy in a place I hadn’t thought to look.
