As I’ve noted in my preamble above, I was born with a walker’s soul. Having been born into a family that walked everywhere, the idea of putting on shoes and “hoofing it” was second nature. I grew up in a one car family. My father needed that vehicle to commute. When you live in small communities and rural areas, there is no transit system and often you have to travel a good distance to bring home a steady paycheque. When we lived close to town, if we needed to be somewhere, we walked. When we lived in the “boonies”, it was often a major form of amusement in a pre-cable, pre-internet, pre-video game world. There was a certain magic and wonder to be found on our endless strolls. Turtles ambling up pathways, heaps of jellyfish stranded on the beach, the noise and sight of hundreds of frogs during mating season, spiders grown impossibly large in our Canadian climate, close encounters with deer startled out of hiding spots. I learned about the ocean, the woods, the towns that I grew up in. A social life in a small town high school invariably meant long walks to escape the prying eyes of our parents. A university career in a small town with a just a couple of pubs, a small theatre and a coffee shop meant lots of long walks to pass the free time.
When I first moved out on my own I lived in Halifax, Nova Scotia. I continued my walking habit on a limited basis. My longer rambles were confined to the weekend, with short jaunts to the park or stores in the evening after work. Most things that I needed were within walking distance. I didn’t own a car so I took transit to work or when I needed to go into the downtown core or other side of town. A long transit strike one summer back in 1998 forced me into my sneakers and taught me that hour and half walk either way could be pleasant and enjoyable and the best way to get to the office and back; through pleasant neighbourhoods and parks and across the harbour high up on the bridge. The one neighbourhood that always seemed a little questionable when seen from the bus turned out to be vibrant and lively and friendly. As it turns out that hour and a half was a reasonable time to commute. My current Toronto commute by bus and subway currently runs an hour and a half. When they finally got the buses rolling again, they had lost a passenger, at least when the weather was good.
Eventually I married and my husband’s work took us to Chicago. While the city itself was good for strolling (usually with necks crooked back, nose to the sky to gawk at that amazing architecture), and there were the state parks and zoos and gardens, the suburbs where we resided were a wasteland. We needed a car for my husband’s long commute, but that left me stranded. There wasn’t anything close to where I lived. Transit service was very poor and often involved going for long stretches in the wrong direction to transfer to a bus to get me where I needed to go. Sidewalks were rare and the ones that existed were never cleared in the winter. My husband is a serious car addict and while he was game for driving to parks for hikes or engaging in some urban exploring when we first married, once we had children his interest and energy waned. When you’re part of a couple, you tend to do things as a couple, and I walked less and less. Several problematic pregnancies left me bedridden. I put on the pounds and lost the motivation.
When it came time to move back to Canada, one of the reasons we chose Toronto was a vague recollection from some time I had spent here almost a decade before of a decent transit system (at least better than what we had been dealing with) and places to roam. And for a while, we did roam. Living near the lake and parks got us out. But it didn’t develop into a habit, and once I was working again, the thought of it was out of my mind. I would sometimes think that I should get out the car and check out all the interesting things I was spying, but there never seemed to be time.
But there has come a realization that I have to make time for myself. Between demanding work, small children, trying to maintain a home and all the other little commitments we seem to bury ourselves in the person who I was and the things that brought me joy somehow managed to get lost. I haven’t been a whole person in a very long time. When I looked back at all the things that had made my happy and that gave me joy, I wasn’t really doing any of them anymore. It had once been a bit of a running joke amongst those who knew me that if you were going to visit with me, you needed to be prepared to do a lot of walking. I’ve been slowly piecing together all of those things that made me a good and happy person and getting on track to bringing those things back into my life.
My first step was to get a dog. Dogs need to walk. I’d have no excuse. I deliberately focused on breeds that were more active. Last year, when he was a puppy, we were confined to walking around the block or quick jaunts while waiting for children to finish piano/soccer/dance or other activities and that was a good start. Now that he’s full grown, we’ve been putting on the miles. We’re walking several hours a day. I’ve have gotten to know every nook and cranny in the immediate area around my home. I have explored parks and trails within a stone’s throw of the backyards of friends who have lived here all their lives and had no clue of their existence. Secret paths are everywhere. I’ve reintroduced myself to birds, marvelled at urban deer startled by passing cyclists, treasured the soul-restoring silence of a wooded ravine in the middle of a bustling city. We’ve worn through three pairs of sneakers and two leashes, my dog and I.
And I’ve kept it up. I’ve learned to walk part of the way home or to work instead, picking up the subway a few stops down the line, keeping my eyes open to all the sights and sounds. I’ve discovered whole neighbourhoods with a small town feel deep in the city core. I’ve learned so much of the forgotten history of this City that I’m starting to grow a little warmer to it. I tend to get bored very quickly, so I try not to walk the same routes too often. I’ve been slowly trekking my way across the city from west to east, and at the suggestion of a number of my friends and my own frustration at finding any really useful information about many of the area parks, I will share my thoughts and photos with you. And I’ll recollect about some of my favourite walks I’ve taken in the past. It’s going to be a long, leisurely stroll, and I hope you’ll take it with me.
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