Elusive Solo Cross of Lake Ontario

Niagara Falls. Have you seen its natural splendor up close and personal? The power of massive amounts of water falling into an abyss obscured by mist is quite daunting. It inspires awe and respect, but it also awakens a certain attraction and desire to experience “the feel” of the water slowly approaching that looming edge, beyond which there is nothing but a dizzying plunge into the unknown. There was an era in which people deliberately floated over the brink of the mighty 188-foot waterfall in cushioned barrels and other self-designed contraptions to quench their mysterious urge to be at one with the beast and to conquer their fears. They have been called the Daredevils of Niagara Falls. Many of them also dared and deviled mainly for money and fame, but that doesn’t jibe with my story or win my admiration.

Lake Ontario seems to have a similar grip on me. There is something special about its vastness. It captivates my mind, it begs for exploration, it lures me in to “feel” its true organic state without shoreline distractions and impurities. Out there, in the middle of nowhere, I feel like a tiny speck in the sea, out there I feel the edge of my abilities. Out there I connect with the Universe, and out there I awaken to the new horizons lying well beyond the comfort zone. There. There I feel an irrepressible urge to go.

About eight years ago, I asked myself whether it would be possible to kitesurf from Toronto to Port Weller, 50km, straight across the lake, alone, and without any support. Of course, I had to dismiss the idea very quickly at the time because it seemed completely unrealistic, and, quite frankly, stupid. For a reader outside of the kitesurfing community, if something goes wrong for a kiter, i.e., the wind dies or a kite line snaps, the kite will fall into the water, and the only way to get back to shore is by swimming, pushing all the gear along. This procedure is called a self-rescue, and it’s an integral part of the sport. Naturally, if a kiter gets into trouble far from shore, the situation can become life threatening very quickly, especially when the water is cold and there is no-one near to help. Hence, two basic rules of kitesurfing are to kite only as far as one can swim, and preferably not to kite alone. Understandably, kiting solo across Lake Ontario, one of the Great Lakes of North America, would essentially be nothing more than a life-threatening stunt – a type of activity that doesn’t impress me much in general.

This thought experiment, however, made me realize that what truly held me back from such an adventure was just one thing: the inability to make the solo trip across the lake reasonably safe! Well? “If that’s the case, then why don’t I paddle solo across the lake on my SUP?” Unlike kiting, where a person in trouble needs to get back to shore relatively quickly, a SUPing emergency wouldn’t likely have the same urgency. A SUP-board is essentially a life raft, a luxury item that a kiter doesn’t have. When a kiter becomes a self-rescuing swimmer, the survival timer is ticking. A paddler, on the other hand, still has options. I view paddling little bit like boating; if anything goes wrong far from shore, outside assistance is needed. But meanwhile, the stranded party can survive for hours and days floating on a disabled boat or a SUP board, unless there is a catastrophic equipment failure. The risk of such catastrophic failure however, can be minimized through impeccable maintenance and through sound decision-making during tight situations, if and when they occur. I will stop beating around the bush: I solo-crossed Lake Ontario on my inflatable SUP on September 9, 2017. I paddled from Toronto straight across to Port Weller in 14 hours. It was a wonderful and intense experience.

After I crossed the lake, I didn’t just Uber home. Mountain climbers don’t claim victory when they reach the summit, and neither do I. As you guessed, I paddled all the way back home from Port Weller. I took a scenic route along the shore, though, and it took me 2 days. (165km total trip distance)

Scouting the shoreline made me realize that kiting from Toronto to Port Weller and back could be achievable after all. “If I kited along the shore, I would solve my self-rescue problem!” When I plotted the distance into a map, I was looking at a whopping 250km round trip! Ouch; I had expected much less. “Would this even be possible? Even if I could ride for 9 hours nonstop, would I ever find a day with such a long weather interval?” This new mission was rather intriguing for me because it would require extreme endurance backed up with intimate knowledge of local weather. “Bring it on!” Indeed, I had no choice, I had to try, and I had to conquer. On Oct 15, 2019, I kited 252km, solo, from Toronto to Port Weller and back, along the shore, in 8 hours and 48 minutes. No breaks, no stops, no food, no toileting, just continuous action! It was a long, wild ride.

While I was basking in my success, the elusive, solo, and unsupported cross of Lake Ontario by kite was still tickling my mind. Then, one day, I happened to see a video of Kai Lenny, SUP racing world champion, SUP-foiling some gentle swells in Hawaii. He barely used his paddle, though. When he finished surfing one wave, he “pumped” himself to the next one, aligned his speed with the wave with a few quick paddle strokes, and his perpetual surfing fun continued. This was revolutionary. Not only was it inspiring and beautiful to watch, it was also thought provoking; “SUP-foiling and kite-foiling! If I could amalgamate those two sports, it would open completely new horizons for solo adventures that are unthinkable otherwise.” The idea was so powerful that I could barely sleep. Within a few days, I knew exactly what I needed to do. I had to design a multifunctional board that would allow for both SUPing and kiting without compromising the fun factor of either sport. Kiting on a regular SUP board is worse than horrible. SUPing on a kiteboard is impossible. I needed to come up with a hybrid board that would change “worse than horrible” into fun, and “impossible” into doable.

Three months later, I had such a board in my hands: a self-designed, custom-built, expedition-style kiteboard. I call it a KiteTrek Board. Martin Gourdeau, a board shaper from iO Boards, took my design and built it from scratch. A work of art, no less. Without exaggeration, I completely revolutionized my kiting. I don’t need a beach anymore – I have learned to launch my kite right from the board. I don’t care if the wind dies – I just stow the kite on my board, take out the paddle, and SUP back to shore. But most importantly, I added an essential safety aspect to my kiting – the ability to self-rescue from places that no other kiter would ever dare to surf.

And there I was, years later, asking myself the same question: “Could I kite, solo, across Lake Ontario?” With the KiteTrek Board, I would have my self-rescue plan in place… The realization that I had cleared the path for this “unattainable” goal was quite satisfying and motivating by itself. For the next two years, I honed my new skills, I practiced self-rescues, and I kited at places that used to be totally off limits. In fact, I reveled in situations where I had to use my paddle and “rescue myself.” Meanwhile, I kept a close eye on suitable weather for my trip across the lake. Unfortunately and surprisingly, the right weather conditions were apparently much more elusive than I had originally thought.

By the end of the fall of 2021, I began to wonder whether I should reconsider my Lake Ontario crossing strategy. By that time, I had tried to kite across the lake twice, but had to abort the mission both times. The weather just would NOT cooperate. During my fairly frequent, probing-deep-into-the-lake kite sessions, it became apparent that the wind over the lake is much more localized than any forecast could show. The assumption that aligning kiteable weather on both ends of my journey would guarantee a good wind in between proved to be flat-out wrong. In fact, there could be a beautiful 20-knot wind on both sides of the lake, but almost no wind in the middle.

The only way to kite successfully across Lake Ontario was to correctly predict a uniform wind across the whole area. In other words, I needed to avoid days with thermal winds, I had to wait for a well-established ENE flow with a kiteable interval of at least 6 hours, and I had to be sure that there was absolutely no risk of thunderstorms. Additionally, I needed a fairly specific wind range of about 12-17kts. Winds stronger than 20kts engender 5 to 8-foot waves, which I couldn’t afford. First, because, in case of an emergency, it would be very hard for rescuers to locate my yellow helmet bobbing in an angry sea of whitecaps, and second, my self-rescue plan to paddle to the nearest shore in such high swells would be totally unrealistic and far too risky. Indeed, I had been waiting for a very narrow weather scenario. After 2 seasons of incredible patience, I realized that I needed to widen my weather strategy.

In addition to the ENE flow, I would also consider kiting across the lake in the WSW flow. I had previously dismissed this option because the advantages were outweighed by two major disadvantages: Number one, thunderstorms are far more likely to occur in westerly weather, and number two, I could be confronted with a strong easterly drift (potentially into a 200-km void of water) in case I had to paddle.  In simpler terms, WSW flow would be much easier and enjoyable for my kiting but far more deadly for my contingency paddling. One must understand that my mission plan wasn’t focused around 5 hours of kiting. My cautious planning had to be focused mostly around a potential 20 hours of contingency paddling. I had to be ready to spend the night on the open water, I had to be sufficiently equipped, and I had to make sure the weather would cooperate for all that time. Lake Ontario requires maximum preparedness. It’s a serious body of water that forces even giant cargo ships to take shelter when it gets angry.   

On July 21, 2022, lo and behold, the weather delivered! The forecast, which had held steady for a few days prior, promised a uniform westerly flow of about 13-19kts and no risk of thunderstorms. I was ready. I woke up early, spent a few hours in front of my computer checking the latest weather data, and then I went to the beach. One last check of my equipment, and I was on my way, at last…

My eyes are pinned to the endless horizon with Port Weller hiding behind the curvature of the Earth. It is rather a misty day today. I kite by GPS as I can’t see any landmarks, not even the prominent CN tower. There are no boats around, nothing but water in all directions. I am alone. I am finally here, in the middle of nowhere. I breathe in the vastness and I radiate with joy. I should be scared here, but the opposite is true. I am loving the moment. Out here I feel like a tiny speck in the sea, out here I feel the edge of my abilities. Out here I connect with the Universe, and out here I awaken to new horizons. Here, I have long felt the urge to come, for I have long been the Daredevil of Lake Ontario.

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I kited from Toronto straight across Lake Ontario to Port Weller and back, 120 kilometers roundtrip, in 5 hours and 12 minutes. Wind WSW-WNW 10-25 knots, water temperature 14C (57F) on Toronto side and 20C (68F) on Port Weller side. Equipment: Kite – 10m Flysurfer Soul, custom KiteTrek Board, and Moses Foil M101, W899, S425.

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