Our Camps

At Rivers to Ridges, open play is not an afterthought but an essential part of our program design. Research shows that unstructured time outdoors supports creativity, problem-solving, and social-emotional growth in ways that structured activities alone cannot.¹ Indigenous perspectives remind us that play and learning on the land are inseparable: children’s curiosity, freedom, and time outside are understood as vital to their development, nurturing not only minds but also bodies, hearts, and spirits.² Open play also creates space for risky play (e.g., climbing, balancing, or testing limits), where children learn to assess their own safety, build resilience, and develop confidence.³

Our team has spent years refining how to support open play in safe and meaningful ways. By modelling positive behaviours, setting clear boundaries, and trusting children to explore, we ensure these moments of freedom are both joyful and deeply educational. Open play is woven into every camp day, because we know it is where some of the most lasting learning and growth happens.

¹ Brussoni, M., Gibbons, R., Gray, C., Ishikawa, T., Sandseter, E. B. H., Bienenstock, A., & Tremblay, M. S. (2015). What is the relationship between risky outdoor play and health in children? A systematic review. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, 12(6), 6423–6454.
² James, V. A., Dragon-Smith, C., & Lahey, W. (2019). Indigenizing outdoor play. Indigenous Languages and Education, Department of Education, Culture & Employment, Government of the Northwest Territories; Bushkids.
³ Sandseter, E. B. H. (2010). Scaryfunny: A qualitative study of risky play among preschool children. PhD dissertation, Norwegian University of Science and Technology.

A sit spot is a simple but powerful practice: choose a quiet place outdoors to return to again and again. By sitting still, noticing, and listening, you begin to attune to the many patterns of birds, animals, plants, humans, weather and more. Over time, a sit spot becomes a familiar place of comfort, reflection, and emergence.

The practice of returning to one place and learning through stillness is deeply rooted in many cultural traditions, where quiet observation is a way of building relationship with the land. In recent decades, this approach has also been adapted into outdoor education—often referred to as a “sit spot” or “magic spot”, as a way to support children to slow down, heighten their awareness, and feel a deeper sense of belonging to a particular place.¹ ²

At Rivers to Ridges, sit spots are part of our core daily rhythm, giving children space to build mindfulness, sharpen their senses, and tune in. Parents are often surprised to hear that these quiet moments are among the highlights of the week for many kids.

¹ Louv, R. (2008). Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder. Chapel Hill, NC: Algonquin Books.
² Beery, T., Beery, L., & Wolf-Watz, D. (2020). Defining and measuring connection to nature in young children. International Journal of Early Childhood Environmental Education, 7(3), 3-22.

Birds are often the first teachers in the forest. Their calls and songs are the entryway into noticing the subtle rhythms of what’s happening around us. At camp, we learn that bird sounds are not random. There are companion calls between mates, songs of courtship, territorial warnings, and the constant begging calls of young birds asking for food. When an alarm call rings out, though, everything shifts.¹ Suddenly, campers discover they can “read” the forest: perhaps a hawk is circling above, an owl is tucked into the branches, or a fox is slipping by unseen.

Bird language gives us a way in: a simple, accessible practice that turns the forest into a living conversation. Once we begin listening, our awareness expands. Every sit spot, every walk, every game becomes an opportunity to notice more, ask questions, and feel part of the story unfolding around us.²

¹ Wyndham, F. S. (2018). Listen carefully to the voices of the birds: A comparative study of birds as signs, messengers, and teachers. Journal of Ethnobiology.
² Young, J. (2013). What the Robin Knows: How Birds Reveal Nature’s Secrets. Boston, MA: Mariner Books.

Gratitude is one of the most important practices we share with children at camp. Taking time to notice and name what we’re thankful for helps build awareness, respect, and a sense of connection. Each morning, campers gather in circle to share something they’re grateful for, and when we harvest berries or gather plants, we pause to give thanks for the gifts of the land. These small, consistent moments remind children that what we receive comes with relationship and responsibility.

Research shows us that regular gratitude practice isn’t just nice, it leads to real benefits for young people: greater resilience, more positive emotions, improved relationships, and lower stress.¹ ² At camp, children begin to experience this for themselves. They practice to slowing down, noticing abundance, and carry appreciation into their families and communities.

¹ Hussong, A. M., et al. (2019). Gratitude in children and adolescents: Development, measurement, and relation to well-being. Applied Developmental Science.
² Froh, J. J., et al. (2009). Who benefits the most from a gratitude intervention in children and adolescents? Examining positive affect as a moderator. The Journal of Positive Psychology.

Survival skills are often a highlight for campers, giving them a chance to work with their hands and connect with the long line of humans throughout history who have lived in harmony to the rhythm of the land around them. We practice safe knife work, learn to build sturdy shelters, and try out traditional fire-making techniques like the bow drill. We also explore the world of plants, discovering wild foods and medicine all around us.

These practices are not about hardship, but about connection and confidence. Each step is guided with care, offering both safety and room for curiosity. When a spark grows into flame, when a shelter takes shape, or when a child tastes a berry they’ve identified on their own, something powerful happens. Skills turn into stories, and those stories become part of who we are.