Finding his stride along freshly groomed ski tracks, Sven Mogensen listens for verbal cues from his guide that paint a picture of what’s coming around the next bend on the winding trail ahead of him.
“Bending slightly to the right here” or “Track disappearing in three, two, one,” says guide Elaine Kerr through a headset that amplifies her voice so Mogensen can hear above the swish of their cross-country skis on the snow.
With no cane by his side or hand to guide him along, the trails are freedom for Mogensen, who became blind in a car accident at 20 years old.
“I have pictures in my head, and I create pictures from what you tell me,” Mogensen tells Kerr, a volunteer guide with the non-proft Ski for Light. “My life is one video basically from a visual point of view.”
Mogensen is one of 40 blind and visually impaired skiers taking to the trails around William Watson Lodge in Kananaskis Country for Ski for Light Canada’s 2026 event.
Making cross-country skiing accessible, visually impaired skiers are paired up with a sighted guide during the annual week-long gathering from Jan. 26-Feb.1
“[Ski for Light] is just such a great thing because it makes it possible for me to get as close as possible to the life I had before,” says Mogensen.
Growing up in Denmark, Mogensen recalls learning to ski on family trips to Norway, but when life took a turn after his accident, it would be 24 years before he stepped into the tracks again.
“I stopped (skiing). I thought blind people could not do any kind of sports, so I gave away my water ski and my skis and all that, which I had to buy back later on,” he said.
For many years, Mogensen focused on his competitive job, and working over 80 hours a week left little time for paddling in his sea kayak or planning hiking trips – all activities that now bring him a sense of freedom and independence.
“I thought I was the best because the seeing world, said to me, ‘Amazing. You do all these things, and you can do your job and do it better than seeing people in some cases,’ but I was always together with seeing people,” said Mogensen, noting he didn’t talk with other blind people for over 20 years after losing his sight.
After learning about a ski club for the blind in Denmark, Mogensen was all in, surprised to hear that an opportunity like that even existed.
Starting at the Ridderrennet event in Norway – where the concept of Ski for Light originated – in 1997, Mogensen eventually travelled to Ski for Light in the U.S. and onto Canada, where he’s participated in the annual event for nearly a decade.
Starting from scratch, he found his feet on skis once again and along with it, a whole new sense of community.
“It was changing my life to get in touch with other blind people,” Mogensen added, noting he even met his second wife at a Ski for Light event. “We exchange our experiences, and we learn a lot from each other. … The social part is very important.”
With lively karaoke nights and ski races built into the week, skiers support each other and many often push beyond the limits of what they thought they could accomplish at the start of the week.
“I would say also that they inspire one another,” chimed in Kerr. “Sven climbed Kilimanjaro. He was the first European blind person to do so and then all these (Canadians) here were like, ‘I want do that,’ so Sven helped them arrange a group.”
“I mean, inside here and here I’m not changed because I lost my sight,” said Mogensen, pointing to his heart and head.
“I’m targeting the same kind of a life [I had before] and people here make it possible and I’m so grateful that Canada and people in Canada have the capacity to make the offer to foreign people like me.”
Guiding ‘a big responsibility’
Paired up based on skill level, skiers and guides – from as far as England and Norway – hit the trails together, skiing side by side on parallel tracks.
“It’s a big responsibility,” said Kerr, a retired optometrist from Vancouver Island who is guiding for the first time at Ski for Light.
“I think it’s very different depending on what skier you’re with and because Sven is experienced and he knows what he needs out of a guide, he’s able to guide me and instruct me on what’s needed.”
Elbow to elbow, the pair walk to the trailhead, where Mogensen is able to step into his bindings himself and the two are off.
“Basically, anytime there’s anything that he needs to know, like the track is going down, it’s veering right, it’s going uphill, I’ll just give him some warnings,” Kerr says, noting the most challenging part is when the track ends at a trail junction and the two need to communicate in order to switch sides, find the tracks again and continue on.
While each guide and skier takes a different approach, Kerr says she will often describe the landscape to Mogensen, noting the mountains and any wildlife that crosses their path.
For first-time skier Caitlin Higgins, stepping into the skis is an exercise in letting go, challenging her to trust both her guide’s direction and her own abilities.
“It’s definitely nerve-wracking, especially going down hills. You’re relying more on your balance,” Higgins describes, noting she was born blind but has about five per cent vision in one eye.
“I don’t necessarily want to say giving up some control to it, but you almost are in a sense because you have to kind of trust that you have enough balance on that leg to slide further.”
With zero experience skiing on day one to tackling over five-kilometre treks at the end of the week, Higgins says her confidence has soared.
“I just jump into things. They’re like, ‘Hey, you wanna try this?’ And I’m like, ‘let’s do it,’” she says.
“It’s been so fun to see Caitlin progress from a beginner skier to someone we could take on a five-kilometre ski,” adds guide Tracey Henderson.
“It has taught me to not take my sight for granted. I’ve developed a much better appreciation for the obstacles that visually impaired people face.”
Need for younger guides, funding
With the vision of making skiing accessible to everyone, the non-profit still faces hurdles.
“Very often the disabled community is not in a high economic bracket, so we fundraise hard to keep those fees as low as possible,” said Sandy Lecour, a former board member and longtime Ski for Light participant, adding that the group received its first grant from the Alberta government at last year’s event.
“Until we get good enough at fundraising, we will have to charge our guides. We don’t like to charge our guides, but it is just the reality of the experience. We would have no event without our guides.”
With hopes of securing more funding in the years to come, Lecour adds that the non-profit is looking to welcome both younger skiers and guides to future events.
“There’s not a lack of guides signing up, but what we’re trying to do is grow this association with younger people, and if you’ve got younger people, you need faster guides,” said Lecour, noting guides receive a training session before the event.
“There’s a lot of us who’ve been here for a long time and we’re getting older.”
Running all week long, Lecour says many retired people volunteer for the event as it’s tougher for younger people to take the time off work.
“It’s a tricky line to walk to provide that guiding, but we want to try to financially support the younger guides. That’s one of our goals,” she says.
Alternating between the Canmore Nordic Centre and William Watson Lodge each year, Lecour says this year’s event saw the biggest turnout in Kananaskis yet, with 40 skiers and 40 guides participating from around the world.
“I think it’s growing. A lot of people don’t know about it, but I can just feel more people are attracted, and they want to learn about the guiding experience, and more visually impaired people, younger people want to come out and have a good time,” she said.
To sign up for next year’s Ski for Light event as a guide or participant, visit: skiforlight.ca.
The Local Journalism Initiative is funded by the Government of Canada. This position covers Îyârhe (Stoney) Nakoda First Nation and Kananaskis Country.