Every town has its meeting place.

In Quesnel, for many people, it comes with ice, brooms, and a lot of laughter.

It’s where you go to compete, to laugh, to get off the couch in February, and remember that winter is better when shared with other people. And you don’t need to be a lifelong curler to belong here. In fact, many people weren’t. That is in part thanks to Shari Needham.

Shari is the kind of person who genuinely wants everyone to feel welcome. She laughs that she sometimes lies awake at night thinking about how to get more people through the doors and into the game. Not for membership numbers, but because she knows what curling can become — friendship, confidence, laughter, and a place to belong.

And she’s not the only one who found that.

Dana Johansen moved to town with her husband for work, joined curling because she loved sports, and never looked back. These days she curls on four different teams — with four completely different groups of people. Same sport, four circles of friendship.

Shari first fell for the Cariboo as a teenager on a trip to Barkerville Historic Town & Park. Something about the place stayed with her. Years later, when her high school sweetheart had the chance to move west for work, the decision felt easy. What could have been simply a relocation became something much more. Through curling, Shari found friendships, connection, and a true sense of home.

It was Billy Barker Days that first caught Blair’s attention. While camping in Wells and Barkerville, he stumbled into the festive celebration and loved the lively feel of the town. He never forgot the energy of the community. A decade later, when a job posting in Quesnel appeared, he packed up his family from the East Coast and never looked back. He joined the curling club, and it became more than a place to play — it became a network of friendships, support through hard times, and even the source of four different job opportunities.

That’s the sneaky thing about curling.

You show up thinking it’s about rocks and brooms. Then suddenly you’ve got teammates texting you, road trips booked for bonspiels, someone saving you a seat in the lounge, and three people offering to lend you a ladder.

Because the game itself is only half the draw.

Yes, it’s strategic. Yes, you can lose a whole weekend bonspiel by an inch. Yes, sweeping hard absolutely feels athletic when you’re doing it. But it’s also a sport where teenagers can play seniors, beginners can beat veterans, and hockey players eventually admit it’s a lot harder — and a lot more fun — than it looks.

And in Quesnel, it starts young.

Local students come through volunteer-run school programs to learn the game. Kids hit the ice for Wednesday night Jam Can curling, a nod to Canadian history when homemade stones were made from jam cans filled with ice and sand. Long before fancy gear, Canadians were sliding makeshift rocks across frozen ponds and backyard rinks — and having a blast doing it.

The next generation is stepping up too. A new competitive team of young men has been offering clinics and helping more people try the sport, proving the future of curling in Quesnel is in good hands.

The club is packed with character too. Everyone knows Ralph. There are themed bonspiels with costumes, laughs so hard you forget whose turn it is, and long winter nights that start cold and end warm.

That’s kind of Quesnel in a nutshell.

It’s a place where people check in. Where help shows up before you ask. Where you can get across town in ten minutes. Where kids bike after school, neighbours lend what you need, and somewhere nearby there’s always a game, event, or person ready to welcome you in.

And if all else fails, head to the rink.

Someone will know your name by the second end.

Cariboo. It’s true.