Many Canadians are embracing a quieter form of adventure, seeking connection and reflection in nature rather than high-adrenaline pursuits.GETTY IMAGES
Adventure tends to skew loud: high-altitude thrills, extreme athletics and an ethos of pushing harder, faster, farther. But that interpretation no longer reflects how many people seek meaning outdoors.
Increasingly, adventure is shifting toward something quieter and more designed – a way of connecting with the landscape, community and inner life rather than conquering terrain.
Heather Kelly, director of research and knowledge at ATTA, recently wrote: “Today’s adventurers are curious, intentional and motivated by more than physical challenge. They seek immersive experiences that foster meaningful connections with nature, culture and place.”
Across the country, a growing number of Canadians are redefining what adventure looks and feels like. Here are three whose work illustrates this shift toward mindful exploration:
Exploring the Arctic by listening
Graham Dickson, founder and chief expedition officer of northern expedition company Arctic Kingdom, has always had an adventurous streak. He became the youngest dive master in Canada when he was just 18 and fell in love with the Arctic after arranging an alumni dive trip for his university.
“That experience opened the door to the North for me,” he says. “My great grandfather had travelled on an Arctic expedition in the early 1900s, so the Arctic was always part of my family’s story, but that first expedition gave me my own connection to it,” he says. “The scale of the landscape, the wildlife and the guidance we received from Inuit drew me in immediately.”
Now 50 and based in Iqaluit, being still and silent in the North feels natural to Mr. Dickson, which he likens to Indigenous hunters who conserve energy by quietly waiting for the right weather and right animal to harvest.
“A calm, steady pace is a deep part of culture and time on the land.”
Mr. Dickson sees modern exploration as a personal journey of knowledge; learning and admiring and understanding how things interconnect.
“The Arctic is about self-confidence, independence and being comfortable in your own skin,” he says. “It is about surrendering to mother nature and being okay that you have no choice but to ‘go with the floe,’” a reference he makes to ice floes.
Connecting with nature rather than seeking thrills is the new adventure.
“Sometimes the best thoughts, inspiration and reflections, as well as renewal and rejuvenation, come when you allow yourself to quietly watch the flicker or crackle of a fire, waves lapping at the shore or grass rustling in the breeze.”
The expeditions developed by Mr. Dickson and Arctic Kingdom are curated to connect travellers with the peace in the vast North. The company recognizes the privilege to share the land and operates on a platform of “stewardship, integrity, and preservation.” It’s an experience participants will carry with them forever.
“A quiet moment watching a sunset or watching the steam rise as the ocean freezes, or to watch a hare still on the tundra is spiritual,” he says.
The firefighter using cold to find clarity
Wesley Bauman is a firefighter from Edmonton.
For years, his wellness regime included pushing his body to extremes with athletic workouts, cold plunges (he held the world record for time spent in an ice-filled upright “coffin”) and breathwork. But, Mr. Bauman admits he was neglecting the “vulnerable parts” of his psyche and not acknowledging the trauma in his life resulting from his years as a first responder. He realized, though, the combination of breathwork and contrast therapy could be the key to addressing PTSD in himself and others.
“[These practices] have these profound peak states where you can step outside of your addiction or your trauma and look at it from an unbiased perspective,” he explains. “You’re not burdened with all the entangled emotions and it gives you the ability to really start sorting things out and filling that trauma. So it turns into productive post-traumatic growth.”
He studied under renowned cold therapy figure Wim Hof in Vancouver and Poland, conditioning his mind and body on adventures such as climbing Mt. Snezka, on the border between the Czech Republic and Poland, in shorts and standing barefoot in the snow for hours. Then he began leading workshops for other firefighters.
“I think I was trying to prove that not only is there a wellness benefit from cold therapy and breathwork that I think would be crucially imperative for battling and preventing post-traumatic stress,” Mr. Bauman says. “But there’s environmental utility for firefighters, especially in Alberta in the winter when it’s minus 40.”
He now educates through his social media platforms and leads private retreats grounded in connecting with oneself in nature, raising money for Wounded Warriors Canada and Wayfinders Wellness Society.
Being outside is an important aspect of this kind of mindful adventure. “When you do that in an environment where you’re connected with Mother Earth, you’re tapping into the negative polarity, you’re getting all these antioxidant enriching negative ions coming in from the ground.”
“This is powerful stuff and I’m conscious I’m working with people’s emotions,” he says. “I always like to have a psychologist there as support, because a lot of powerful stuff comes up, even if someone’s not there for breathwork.”
A forager bringing stillness to the trail
In Newfoundland, Lori McCarthy adventures on the land. She grew up on a farm, connected with the nature around her. Her list of titles is long: cultural ambassador, Ted Talk speaker, chef, forager, hunter, author, educator and enthusiastic outdoorsperson. She worked in tourism as a kayak guide, leading hikes and working on tall ships. Outdoor adventuring is her way of life.
Now, she leads three-day cultural residencies through her business, Food, Culture, Place in rural Newfoundland, designed to immerse people in the rhythm of the place.
“We’re hiking, we’re foraging, we’re lighting fires, we’re cooking food over the fire that we’ve preparing together outside.”
In her guided adventures, McCarthy incorporates stillness and silence to help people connect with their peace.
“When we walk, we often have parts of our walk where we walk along the ocean, when we separate and we don’t talk, say for the whole hour, until we meet on the beach.”
Slow, quiet adventure can create feelings similar to the endorphin rush of “hard” adventure.
“People often say they feel like they’ve just gone to another place in their soul, you know, the sense of relief and relief of tension,” she says.