my dutch mother fell in love with my father in the 70’s and moved halfway across the world for him. they made a life in ottawa and raised three daughters. it was a beautiful life but raising a family thousands of miles away from home must have been hard at times. she looked for things that reminded her of home and a new family tradition was born. every saturday in winter she would take us skating on the canal. she wore black speed skates that embarrassed me as a kid when all the other mothers wore pretty white figure skates. her strides were long and sure while i faltered on the rough ice trying to keep up with her. she skated with ease always looking ahead. i fell down a lot on that rough and bumpy frozen body of water but it was there that she taught me to always get back up.
—naomi sutorius-lavoie
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didn’t think i’d ever see
a winter that was canal skate-free.
no joyful striders, smiley-faced
gliding along, on their happy place.
alas, no ‘23 skateway kinetic swarming,
the science points to global warming.
bring on the slush cannons and thermosyphons,
nope – not talkin’ a sketch from monty python.
we need ice, outdoors in winter,
here in the cool blue land of hinter.
robotic snowblowers in ncc colours,
hey! skaters are hurtin’, not the scullers.
missin’ that extended breakaway romp,
avec chocolat chaud et beavertail chomp.
mind you, the thing about a 5-mile rink,
is all that time you have to… think.
upon arrival at dow’s scenic lake,
i’m at a loss – ‘should i shoot, or should i fake? … ; )
a friend of the canal
— l coyote (aka; g. boyd)
it is with great sadness and alarm that the global climate situation is affecting my beloved rideau canal skateway and keeping it closed for the first time in its history. i’m originally a manitoba prairie farm boy and grew up on ice playing hockey, figure skating, curling. i have called ottawa home for 31 years and have skated the canal every single season as often as i can on my own, with friends, with my partner, with visiting family and truly miss this wonderful, free, adventure for its enjoyment, exercise, dares and accepted challenges.
— thomas martin
💌
haiku to slushy canal
did not freeze this year.
am saddened beyond belief.
oh look! beavertails!
— jacqueline ramsey
💌
roses are red.
violets are blue.
i’m using my sled,
but not skating on you.
— ld cross, ottawa
dear rideau canal,
i played on you as a child, chasing my younger brother into the small snowbanks that hug your stone walls near pretoria bridge. i raced on you as a young woman, proudly winning a silver medal in the annual winterlude triathlon. for years, i glided to work on you, embraced by the morning sun, braving even the coldest days, giddy in goggles and down. and i was with you on your last skating day last year, celebrating my 58th, huddled around a firepit with friends, drinking wine on ice, as snowflakes dropped heavy like a curtain. please come back. i really miss you.
— leah
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without a canal to skate on the winter seems to be missing a beat.
— n. brunt
thirty-two years ago my fiancé and i laced up our skates at heartwell locks and skated on you all the way to a jewelry store at the rideau center to buy engagement rings together. the sun was setting and the snow was lightly falling as we skated our way back home. after 30 years of marriage we were hoping to recreate that romantic moment, but alas this was not to be this year. we get it, sometimes you just need to take a break. we hope you will feel up to the task next year. you are a solid enduring feature in our lives with and without ice.
— love susan and scott
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yours always,
ottawa skater
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i feel like i might lose a friend, a friend that is changing, slowly melting away.
decades ago, a child skated on the canal with his family, all excited to get a beaver tail and a hot chocolate, skating as far as he could, amazed and full of joy.
so much happiness in one place
— pierre m.
the first iteration of the rideau canal skateway is two years older than i am — 1971 versus 1973 — and it was a fixture of growing up in the glebe and later old ottawa south.
it was there, on a cold winter night in 1978, that i made one of the keenest memories of my life, cementing my late father as a hero in my young eyes.
we somehow tumbled together on the ice — it was dark, perhaps a rut? — and my skate blade sliced open his shin. he picked up me, carried me over his shoulder and swiftly skated home to fourth avenue.
he needed stitches, and had to walk home from a clinic on main street because he didn’t have enough for a second taxi, but we skated together on the canal many more times. i think of that night almost every time i lace up my skates.
— megan gillis
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until next year,
— adam dietz
the canal stands almost empty
waiting for the winter’s snow
and freezing waters
yet now, no blades to carve lovers names
no hot chocolate held in cold hands
earth, leaves and rocks
await the filling of winter’s dreams…..j.a.j.m.
her mind said no,
i shouldn’t be with you.
you aren’t strong enough
to support me.
her heart said yes,
like old times,
we should be together.
what is the shoulder season
without a body; the canal for skating.
come back to me.
— louise rachlis
our north, our south, our east and west,
our working week, our sunday rest,
our noon, our midnight, our talk, our song,
we thought your frozen heart was there forever.
we were wrong.
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(criminally adapted from poet w.h. auden.)
— kelly egan
i just wanted to let you know that you are in my thoughts each year. you lead me to understand that skating could encourage families to participate in athletic activities together and that that togetherness was something to look forward to. your ice became a condition to be measured and rejoiced in. skating amongst the ice sculptures on dow’s lake and discussing their artistic merits was a relaxing midway break in our afternoon gliding journeys. i am forever in your debt. many thanks.
— michael curry