From Beaches to Brickworks
A letter from the founder (and the village behind him)
You know that feeling when something starts as a casual experiment with friends, and then things just start leading you to places you never expected? That's honestly how I feel today.
Two years ago, a few friends dragged a sauna on a trailer down to the lake. Nothing fancy, just a curiosity about this thing called contrast therapy and a desire to do something that felt good. We weren't operators or entrepreneurs at that point; just a few friends who wanted to hang out and do something different in the winter.
After a season down at the lake, a community started to form. Word spread the way good things tend to, quietly, through people telling other people. By last season,1,000+ visitors had gathered, a few press pieces got featured, and had people knocking on the doors asking when we would open next. I won't pretend I saw that coming.
What I realized (and maybe you've felt this too) was that people were genuinely hungry for experiences where they could disconnect from the world and the expectations that surround them. Not a notification-free hour in a coffee shop, but something deeper: a chance to be present, to experience the outdoors with neighbours, friends, and family. To exist in the city without the city noise. It sounds simple when you say it out loud, but when you see it happening in front of you, it's striking.
45 Saunas. 9 Days. World Sauna Forum (Finland).
This led (somewhat improbably) to the World Sauna Forum in Finland (yes, that's a real thing). Truly grateful and privileged for the opportunity. In 9 days, I experienced 45 saunas and met operators, builders, and enthusiasts from around the world; people who carry the torch of authentic sauna experiences and inspire me every day.
Over the past year, I have experienced smoke and folk saunas over 100 years old, holding you in a gentle warmth that's hard to describe; beautifully designed architectural saunas; Nordic spas that left you feeling restored; sweat bathing experiences deeply rooted in authenticity and interactive rituals like aufguss that were genuinely entertaining. What I came to understand, and hadn't fully appreciated before, was just how diverse sauna experiences can be. There is no one right way to sauna. The ritual belongs to everyone, and it looks different depending on the culture, the climate, the community.
I came back with a lot of notes, and one lingering question.
Why This Actually Matters
We don't have enough outdoor public spaces where people can truly show up as themselves. Not as professionals, not as parents on the clock, just as people. Saunas are equalizers: people leave their jobs, responsibilities, and expectations at the door. They become part of a weekly rhythm, especially through the winter, when the pull to stay indoors is strongest.
I saw this first-hand, watching the community come out to the lake in January: all ages, all backgrounds, all finding their way into the same simple ritual together. Neighbours who might never have crossed paths otherwise, sharing something distraction-free and analog. No expectations. No performance. Just presence.
It made me wonder: is this part of why Finland consistently ranks as one of the happiest countries in the world? Not because of the sauna specifically, but because of what the sauna represents. A protected, communal space to reset. One that isn't tied to productivity or consumption.
Which Brings Us to the Brickworks
The move from the lake to Evergreen Brick Works isn't just a change of venue. It's a chance to be part of something larger: an incubator and social infrastructure project for the City of Toronto, demonstrating how important accessible spaces like these really are.
Maybe it took two seasons of standing outside for six hours every Saturday in the winter to come to this realization, but I am humbled and inspired by the group of passionate builders, community curators, and partners who are making this happen. It has taken a village (and will continue to take a village) to help us shape the future of communities in Toronto.
This is just the beginning. There are more spaces to build, more rituals to share, and more neighbours yet to meet. If you've ever believed that cities should feel more human, that winter shouldn't mean isolation, and that somewhere between the optimization, the consumption, and the noise, there's a version of yourself worth returning to; this one's for you. We're just getting started, and we'd love for you to be part of what comes next.
Thank you for being part of this journey. We're just getting started.
With warmth (literally),
Jason