I arrived at Topaz Park just as the haunting drone of bagpipes filled the morning air. Families spread blankets across the grass while competitors in kilts prepared for events that have remained largely unchanged for centuries. Victoria’s 160th Highland Games unfolded under rare perfect weather conditions this weekend, drawing hundreds to celebrate Scottish heritage through music, athletic prowess, and cultural displays.
“These games have been part of Victoria’s identity since before Canada was a country,” explained Angus MacGregor, who has volunteered with the Victoria Highland Games Association for over twenty years. “When you watch the caber toss or hear the pipe bands, you’re experiencing traditions that connect directly back to Scotland.”
The iconic caber toss—where athletes heft and flip telephone pole-sized logs—drew gasps from spectators as competitors displayed remarkable strength. Nearby, the hammer throw and stone put competitions showcased the traditional “heavy events” that form the athletic backbone of Highland Games worldwide.
What struck me most was the intergenerational nature of the gathering. Ten-year-old Fiona Campbell practiced intricate footwork for her Highland dance competition while her grandfather, wearing his clan’s tartan, watched proudly from a folding chair.
“My family has participated for four generations now,” Campbell told me, adjusting her dance shoes. “I started when I was four, just like my mom did.”
The Victoria Highland Games began in 1864 and has evolved into one of Western Canada’s largest celebrations of Scottish culture. This year’s event featured more than 25 pipe bands from across British Columbia and the Pacific Northwest, including the Grade 1 Simon Fraser University Pipe Band, six-time world champions.
Beyond the competitive elements, the games offered visitors immersive cultural experiences. In the clan village area, representatives from Scottish families shared genealogical resources and historical artifacts. The Gaelic tent provided language lessons, while nearby food vendors served haggis, meat pies, and shortbread to curious first-timers and nostalgic Scottish-Canadians alike.
Victoria resident Janet McKenzie brought her three children after recently discovering Scottish ancestry through DNA testing. “We wanted to connect with this part of our heritage,” she said, watching her children attempt traditional Celtic instruments at the music tent. “It feels more meaningful than just reading about it online.”
The games hold particular significance in Victoria, whose name honors Queen Victoria, who herself embraced Scottish traditions during her reign. According to Tourism Victoria data, events celebrating Celtic heritage attract approximately 15,000 visitors annually to the region, contributing significantly to the local economy during shoulder seasons.
Dr. Eleanor Fraser, who teaches Celtic Studies at the University of Victoria, explained that the endurance of such traditions speaks to something deeper than mere entertainment. “These gatherings have historically served as community anchors during periods of migration and cultural disruption,” she said. “They represent resilience and continuity across generations and borders.”
When I wandered through the vendor marketplace, I found everything from authentic wool products to contemporary Celtic-inspired jewelry. Local artist David MacDonald demonstrated traditional stone carving techniques while explaining how he incorporates these ancient designs into modern commissions.
“People are hungry for connection to something authentic,” MacDonald observed, his hands covered in limestone dust. “When everything changes so quickly in the digital age, these traditions provide a tangible link to our past.”
As afternoon sunlight filtered through the trees, competitors in the sheepdog trials demonstrated the remarkable partnership between handlers and their border collies. Children crowded the fence to watch as dogs responded to subtle whistles and commands, maneuvering sheep through complex obstacle courses.
The games aren’t solely about looking backward, though. Modern innovations were evident in how traditional Highland sports have evolved to become more inclusive. Women’s heavy events competitions drew enthusiastic crowds, while adaptive categories welcomed participants with diverse physical abilities.
“We’re preserving tradition while ensuring everyone feels welcome,” explained Heather McDonald of the Victoria Highland Games Association. “The spirit of the games has always been about community building.”
By late afternoon, the massed bands gathered for the closing ceremony—more than 200 pipers and drummers creating a sound that resonated physically in the chest of everyone present. As the sun began its descent, the mountains across the Strait of Juan de Fuca provided a fitting backdrop to this celebration of a culture that has thrived across oceans and generations.
“We’ll be back next year,” said first-time attendee Michael Chen, his young daughter perched on his shoulders as they watched the ceremony. “I didn’t expect to connect with Scottish culture so much, but there’s something universal about these traditions.”
As I walked back to my car, the echoes of bagpipes still hanging in the air, I reflected on how events like the Highland Games demonstrate that cultural heritage isn’t static—it’s a living, evolving conversation between past and present. In Victoria, that conversation has continued uninterrupted for 160 years and shows no signs of fading away.
