So, we played in the snow
So, we played in the snow
Reading time: 3 minutes
Are we on a Wednesday afternoon? Snow is falling endlessly over Québec. Seriously, you can barely see a few meters ahead on the buried streets. That’s the magic of late March in Québec, isn’t it? Out of nowhere, a massive dump falls, as if Mother Nature is taking one last winter breath. I text Lolo and Ève—it’s the perfect time to play in the snow.
By evening, the snowfall has eased, but not the excitement that’s taken hold of us for the past few hours. We grab our shovels, my old battered board, and instead of heading to the mountain, we decide to get creative. The wet, moldable snow inspires us to take advantage of the natural terrain of our beautiful fortified city.
Off to Old Québec.
Are we on a Wednesday afternoon? Snow is falling endlessly over Québec. Seriously, you can barely see a few meters ahead on the buried streets. That’s the magic of late March in Québec, isn’t it? Out of nowhere, a massive dump falls, as if Mother Nature is taking one last winter breath. I text Lolo and Ève—it’s the perfect time to play in the snow.
By evening, the snowfall has eased, but not the excitement that’s taken hold of us for the past few hours. We grab our shovels, my old battered board, and instead of heading to the mountain, we decide to get creative. The wet, moldable snow inspires us to take advantage of the natural terrain of our beautiful fortified city.
Off to Old Québec.
Wandering through the arches of our grand fortress, boards in hand, is quite the experience. It feels like a nod to the past, with a little Easter egg from the future—us—dropped into the scene. Naturally, we caught the curious eyes of passersby along the way. These people, besides being intrigued by our unusual mission, seemed to be in full survival mode. The stone walls of the fortifications remained cold and damp, just like the air around us. I get it—anyone would be eager to return to the warmth of their home.
And then there’s us, a little naïve-looking, but with hearts full of a reckless drive to push forward, carving our way through the historic architecture of the Old Capital. We search, keeping our eyes open for the perfect spot to make the most of. A stairwell, a railing—heck, even a cannon—could do the trick.
Eventually, we stumble upon an iconic spot. Picture this: just steps from the Terrasse, under the imposing gaze of the Château. Yep, this is it. Fun fact—and purely a stroke of luck—it turns out that Mr. Frontenac and I had both chosen to wear orange for the occasion.
Wandering through the arches of our grand fortress, boards in hand, is quite the experience. It feels like a nod to the past, with a little Easter egg from the future—us—dropped into the scene. Naturally, we caught the curious eyes of passersby along the way. These people, besides being intrigued by our unusual mission, seemed to be in full survival mode. The stone walls of the fortifications remained cold and damp, just like the air around us. I get it—anyone would be eager to return to the warmth of their home.
And then there’s us, a little naïve-looking, but with hearts full of a reckless drive to push forward, carving our way through the historic architecture of the Old Capital. We search, keeping our eyes open for the perfect spot to make the most of. A stairwell, a railing—heck, even a cannon—could do the trick.
Eventually, we stumble upon an iconic spot. Picture this: just steps from the Terrasse, under the imposing gaze of the Château. Yep, this is it. Fun fact—and purely a stroke of luck—it turns out that Mr. Frontenac and I had both chosen to wear orange for the occasion.
We get to work building the jump. For the less experienced, let me confirm—this kind of construction is a real science, full of unexpected calculations! The hardness of the snow, the angle and width of the jump, the speed needed to hit it—these are just a few of the key elements to consider if we want to maximize our chances of success. And for good reason—we don’t want the structure collapsing just for me to end up with three cracked ribs on the railing. It takes some serious elbow grease, but we manage to pull it off in under an hour.
Without really noticing, a small crowd begins to gather around our new urban playground. Stunned, amused, intrigued—these passersby definitely hadn’t planned on witnessing such an absurd spectacle during their evening stroll. Then again, it’s not every day you see three lunatics going all out to build who-knows-what in the end-of-March slush.
We get to work building the jump. For the less experienced, let me confirm—this kind of construction is a real science, full of unexpected calculations! The hardness of the snow, the angle and width of the jump, the speed needed to hit it—these are just a few of the key elements to consider if we want to maximize our chances of success. And for good reason—we don’t want the structure collapsing just for me to end up with three cracked ribs on the railing. It takes some serious elbow grease, but we manage to pull it off in under an hour.
Without really noticing, a small crowd begins to gather around our new urban playground. Stunned, amused, intrigued—these passersby definitely hadn’t planned on witnessing such an absurd spectacle during their evening stroll. Then again, it’s not every day you see three lunatics going all out to build who-knows-what in the end-of-March slush.
Alright, time to give it a go. Once, twice, again… Damn, I just can’t get the right speed, the right angle… Shit, come on!! Alright, this time, for real.
You know that sharp, resonant sound when two swords clash? That vibrating metallic ring? Well, that’s exactly how my board’s edge sounded as it hit the metal rail. Pure auditory perfection—to the great delight of our newfound Indian and Montrealer friends! Just goes to show, street riding really can captivate anyone.
Alright, time to give it a go. Once, twice, again… Damn, I just can’t get the right speed, the right angle… Shit, come on!! Alright, this time, for real.
You know that sharp, resonant sound when two swords clash? That vibrating metallic ring? Well, that’s exactly how my board’s edge sounded as it hit the metal rail. Pure auditory perfection—to the great delight of our newfound Indian and Montrealer friends! Just goes to show, street riding really can captivate anyone.
To be perfectly honest, it took a whole lot of patience to get the shot—somewhere between 13 and 157 attempts, I’d estimate. After all, syncing the lighting—shoutout to Ève the warrior with the headlamps—the photo sequence, and the framing, all while spending maybe 0.25 seconds dead center on the rail, is no small feat.
But damn, was it worth it!
So, we played in the snow.
To be perfectly honest, it took a whole lot of patience to get the shot—somewhere between 13 and 157 attempts, I’d estimate. After all, syncing the lighting—shoutout to Ève the warrior with the headlamps—the photo sequence, and the framing, all while spending maybe 0.25 seconds dead center on the rail, is no small feat.
But damn, was it worth it!
So, we played in the snow.
Author: Jacob Lajoie
Photographer: Laurent Auchu
Author: Jacob Lajoie
Photographer: Laurent Auchu
About the author
A true snowboarder at heart since a young age, Jacob particularly enjoys combining his passion for snowboarding with his love for travel and, to be completely honest, with the practice of all the other sports that make his mother roll her eyes. His motto: what’s the point of living the greatest adventure if it can’t be told? He begins, alongside his partner Laurent in photography, to write about their adventures. Accompanied by the photos, these stories bring to life memories from Hokkaido and the Japanese Alps, Gaspésie, Lac St-Jean, Old Québec City, and much more!
About the author
A true snowboarder at heart since a young age, Jacob particularly enjoys combining his passion for snowboarding with his love for travel and, to be completely honest, with the practice of all the other sports that make his mother roll her eyes. His motto: what’s the point of living the greatest adventure if it can’t be told? He begins, alongside his partner Laurent in photography, to write about their adventures. Accompanied by the photos, these stories bring to life memories from Hokkaido and the Japanese Alps, Gaspésie, Lac St-Jean, Old Québec City, and much more!