From Taytay to Schefferville: How Sophie Brought Climbing to the North
Walking Beside, Not Ahead
By Sophie
The first thing you notice in Schefferville isn’t the quiet; it’s the clarity. The air is crisp, the land wide open, and there’s a sense that everything has its rhythm. Kids ride bikes down gravel roads. Neighbours wave. Families gather at the local co-op. Doors not locked. This isn’t a forgotten place; it’s a community that’s alive, rooted, and proud.
In late spring, the ice still clung to the rivers, stubborn against the sun’s gentle return. Beneath a sky painted in soft greys and blues, the vast open land whispered stories of resilience and retreat.
I came up here with a small group to be in this northern town, which sits on the traditional territory of the Innu and Naskapi. Before I arrived, I had been offered a chance to teach at the local school. Working with the kids has been one of the most meaningful parts of being here. It’s through them, and with them, that I’ve come to understand Schefferville.
Something I noticed early on was that there aren’t a lot of recreational outlets here. With it being so remote, options are limited. That’s where a small idea came up: what if we helped build an outdoor climbing wall? Just something simple. A space to move, play, and build confidence.
I shared the idea with others, not to pitch it, but to ask what they thought. I listened. We talked. And after months of discussion, the project was brought to the local council. They approved it. The climbing wall is officially moving forward and will become a reality in 2026.
One afternoon, while walking down a quiet dirt road, a black bear wandered across our path. Calm, unbothered. It didn’t feel threatening, it just belonged. That moment reminded me we’re visitors here, and the land will always move at its own pace.
I try to help out in small ways, picking up trash and beer cans on spare time, encouraging kids to outdoors to reconnect with their land, and most of all learning from the community instead of teaching them what's best. And as an outsider coming to their land, what I can do is listen, observe, suggest, and work with the Naskapi and Innu community.
In Schefferville, seasons do not change with urgency. They unfold. Slowly. Like healing. Like hope. And if we’re paying attention, there’s a lot to learn along the way.
