Where snow meets swell, a growing community of cold water surfers is carving out a scene on Lake Superior.
By David Spies
It’s -15° Celsius outside, but 65° in the sauna. Leaning against the wall with my eyes closed, inhaling the cedar-scented air, voices fill the room as two university-aged gentlemen enter and find their seats.
“That left at J-Bay was pumping last weekend, I can’t believe you missed it!”
“Gnarly man, I was chasing 121 but had no luck.”
J-Bay, 121, a left, gnarly; all code words within a secret sect of individuals living on Lake Superior’s north shore. My interest is immediately piqued. These two are surfers.
“Rumour has it Hydro is looking clean for next week,” I toss out into the steamy room.
Both of their heads snap in my direction, “Whoa, man, you surf?”
Flashing them a smile and nod in affirmation, they both break out in grins.
Lake Superior is world-renowned for being the largest and coldest of the Great Lakes. It’s not somewhere that comes to mind for most people when they think about surfing destinations. Yet there is a close-knit community of dedicated individuals who adventure along the coldwater coast in thick wetsuits, driving through snowstorms and braving frigid temperatures for the chance to find choice waves and an empty lineup.
There’s no beating around the bush. Surfing is difficult, especially in cold water. It is also unbelievably rewarding. The journey of a surfer begins on land: learning how to read weather patterns to predict where waves will show up, standing on the shore and reading what the lake offers that day. Once you are in the water, it’s a fight to balance on a board while paddling out, learning how to work with the waves and currents to find the right takeoff spot. It’s even harder to stand up and legitimately catch a wave.
That’s where the close-knit surf community comes in clutch. Local groups like the Great Lakes Surfing Club (GLSC) offer assistance in learning how to read waves, scrounging up wetsuits, booties, gloves and boards that those learning can borrow to get a hang of. After some further conversation with the gentleman from the sauna, it turned out that the GLSC was their introduction to the north shore surfing community.
Later in the week, I had the opportunity to grab a cup of coffee with the current president of the GLSC, Avery Annan.
Avery is a true north shore local, having grown up in Wawa, one of the epicentres of north shore surfing. Our conversation centred around the inherent obstacles to surfing the Great Lakes that exist, stretching from physical and mental to geographical.
As the new president of GLSC, Avery aims to offer the training required to begin overcoming these obstacles. The focus of this training will begin in the roots of the surf club at Lakehead University, through education.
When discussing the difficulties of knowing where the best opportunity to surf will be, Avery focused on how the club will begin hosting workshops on wind and wave education. When an individual decides that they are going to pursue surfing as a hobby and lifestyle on the Great Lakes, it also turns into a decision to become an amateur meteorologist.
Every single morning when I wake up, I start the day the same way I am sure many of you do—brewing a pot of coffee. It’s in those minutes while my French press is steeping that the dedication to surfing shows up in my daily life. I take that time to check buoy data on Superior. What kind of wave movement is occurring out in the middle of the lake? Has it changed since I last checked yesterday morning?
What do wind conditions look like? Has it shifted in the past 24 hours? Is the strong south-west push that existed yesterday continuing? If so, with this consistency and strength, there’s a high likelihood that waves will be arriving in Wawa this evening and hopefully continuing into tomorrow. If so, did I wash my wetsuit after the last session? Do I still have board wax lying around, or am I out? I really need that cup of coffee.
Personally, this fall will be the kick-off to my fourth season surfing Mama Superior. Although difficult, it has become one of the most rewarding hobbies I have invested in. It provides me the motivation to regularly attend the gym, knowing that the work I put in when the lake is flat will allow me to reap the rewards when the lake is pumping. It has provided a deeper personal connection with nature and the wild spaces I am blessed to explore.
There’s no question that it’s difficult. However, I promise you that the physical, mental and emotional rewards that result far outweigh the challenge it presents.
See you in the lineup.