EDMONTON — The crash of rocks and the scratch of brooms has long been part of Natalie Morin’s life.
She first stepped onto the pebbled ice of a curling rink as a kid more than 45 years ago, but the sport she loves has always had a twist.
Morin is visually impaired, as are the people she plays with and against.
“Everyone from totally blind to someone like myself that’s very lucky to have good mobility vision. And everything in-between,” said Morin, president of the Edmonton Blind Curling Club.
This week, Morin will skip Team Alberta, one of eight teams from across the country that have gathered at the Granite Curling Club in Edmonton for the 2026 Canadian Vision Impaired Curling Championship.
Games started Monday and gold medals are set to be presented Friday afternoon.
Out on the ice, there are few indications that the athletes are visually impaired.
“The game is very similar to any other game of curling, with slight modifications for people with sight loss,” said event coordinator Corry Stuive.
“A visually impaired curling team is four members. The lead is a totally blind individual or someone who only has light perception, and the other three curlers are low vision. And really the only modification is that we permit there to be a sighted sweeper, a designated sweeper out there, to take the place of the lead, who obviously can’t sweep. Other than that, rules are the same.”
Some players use special equipment, such as binoculars or a light at the end of their broom, to help their game. Others use the audio cue of a teammate tapping on the ice to direct their shot.
“It’s up to the individual. And of course, there’s so many varying degrees of vision loss and all the rest of it,” Stuive said. “Everybody’s different, and we adjust accordingly.”
Tailoring the game to each competitor’s needs helps create an empowering environment where everyone can feel proud of themselves.
“It’s an ability and an opportunity to demonstrate their abilities, rather than focus on the disability,” Stuive said. “They’re out, they’re curling. We hear about curling, we see curling, and they’re a part of curling. So it’s sort of being a part of the real world, just participating and enjoying it and being among peers and achieving greatness.”
As players filtered off the ice this week, some grabbed the harnesses of their guide dog, while others unfurled a white cane or grasped the elbow of a sighted companion.
Many headed upstairs to the Granite Club’s lounge where they chatted with competitors from across the country.
“(The tournament’s) an excellent opportunity for them to get out and compete, but also get out and get to know some people from their peer groups, from different regions,” Morin said.
“We’ve shared all kinds of non-curling stuff, technology stuff, that can help them in their daily lives. It’s a really fantastic networking tool.”
This year marks the 18th time the Canadian Council of the Blind has put on the championship, and the first time the tournament has ventured west of Ontario.
“We thought, rather than having it stagnant in one city all the time, we’d roam it across the country,” Stuive said. “And that way we can promote the support in local areas, and maybe get new potential curlers coming out and interested in sport.”
The last championship was held in Sydney, N.S., where the Prince George Blind Curling team took first place.
The accomplishment was more than two decades in the making, said lead and founding member Terry Pipkey.
“It took us 25 years to reach the pinnacle of blind curling,” he said.
Pipkey and his team keep coming back to the Canadian Vision Impaired Curling Championship year after year in part for the competition, but also for the community.
The tournament’s also just a lot of fun, he said.
“There gets to be the odd squabble on rules now and again. But that’s neither here nor there,” Pipkey said with a grin.
“I enjoy coming back year after year and seeing mostly the same people and playing against them. And you win some and you lose some.”
This report by The Canadian Press was first published Feb. 4, 2026.
Gemma Karstens-Smith, The Canadian Press
