Make Time to Walk

Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time. ~Steven Wright

I was born a walker. Growing up in a one car family that my father needed to get to work while living in the outskirts of town meant that if you wanted to do anything or go anywhere you relied on your feet. This was so ingrained that I did not bother get a drivers license until I was 25. When I moved to the city in my early adulthood, I relied on buses to transport me to work until a strike taught me that the hour and a half walk to and from was reasonable and pleasant, at least on the good weather days. For seven years, while living in the car-obsessed and sidewalk-phobic suburban USA, I slowly lost the habit, but I've been gaining it back, going on almost daily adventures of urban exploration.

It never ceases to amaze me how little many of my friends know of their own backyards, even when they have lived in the area all their lives. We have traded an adventurers' soul for the mundane, stress inducing car commute, even driving to the store a few blocks away. Reassessing my own life and stress, I came to the realization that I was a lot happier as a walker, in the fresh air, in nature, interacting with people, seeing the small little things that make city life or country living so pleasurable, and which often get missed in the car.

I'll share my favourite walks and memories in and around my current home of Toronto, as well as Halifax, Chicago and Paris. Take a stroll with me.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Urban Exploring - A Walk in the Winter Woods



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"Go to the winter woods: listen there, look, watch, and "the dead months" will give you a subtler secret than any you have yet found in the forest." - Fiona Macleod in Where the Forest Murmurs

Today's walk was the kind that a friend of mine has cleverly coined a "CSI Tour".  One of those treks that is so far off the beaten track that she feels I'm likely to either find a body or become a body.  I will admit to a certain foolhardiness but, as commonly pointed out, nothing ventured, nothing gained.  I happen to like knowing what's around every corner even it seems a little scary or dangerous.  Sometimes appearances can be deceiving.

I had to run our vehicle to the shop which was a considerable distance from the dog that I have to walk in the mornings, at least if I were to follow conventional sidewalks.  It was my thought to cut through Crawford-Jones Park and then Pine Point Park and make my way to Islington Avenue from there.  The weather had called for rain.  I usually don't pay too much heed to forecasts other than preparing myself for the worst, the weather is what it is and does what it does and there is very little I can do about it.  However, I was blessed with the rain holding off.  The air was sodden and the sky dim.  It was surprisingly warm and comfortable and I didn't feel the need to dig out my mitts or hat the whole day.


I was a little unsure about the best way to approach the park from Weston Road.  Should I access it from Cardell Avenue or Dee Avenue?  I ended up choosing Cardell, but I could have taken either, both dead end to the park.  The path was not cleared and would have been hard to find if it had not been for the numerous footprints of more experienced visitors of the park.  I had every intention of walking straight to Islington Avenue, running some errands at a nearby shopping complex and then walking over to pick up my pal for his morning exercise, but the explorer bug took over and it was time to get lost in the woods.   I had some time to kill and I knew that geographically I was penned in by the 401, housing, a golf course and train tracks.  Eventually I would find civilization again.  




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If you will remember, in a previous entry on Pine Point Park, I had made mention of a small footpath that I had noticed near the pedestrian bridge crossing the Humber River. It had been my assumption that it made it's way towards Islington somehow.  So I was surprised to discover that it actually curves around and makes its way along the South-western bank of the River.  




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The path makes its way east a fair distance.  It is obviously well used by both man and beast.  It's hard to tell if it is paved underneath the snow, but I remember that in the fall when I first checked it out, the entrance at least was basically a dirt foot path.  



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The constant drone of the highway traffic never dissipates.  Perhaps it is the lack of foliage or the cold, still air, but it is loud and an ever present reminder that I am really still in the city.


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The foot tracks peter out considerably at a small, narrow creek, slushily frozen.  A steep hill rises to the south beyond it.  I see some footprints and dog tracks beyond and continue on.

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The hill is steep and the snow is deep.  We trod carefully on, my dog and I, unsure of what lays beneath. An old rotting tree, with lots of hollows, reeks of skunk.  Perhaps a den.  Despite my best effort to keep him away, my dog excitedly nosed and sniffed about at the very limits of his leash while I feared a long, smelly walk home.  Thankfully, nothing stirred and I was able to convince my pal to walk on.

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Thar be skunks here!

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A happy dog is an exploring dog.
The trees grow so tall here, thin, stretching upwards to the sky.  It is so rare to see truly tall trees in the City.  Most urban trees are so stunted compared to their forest cousins.


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The tracks that I have been following begin to zigzag through the woods, weaving amongst fallen trees.  Despite seeing many animal tracks, I see not one creature, not even a squirrel.  Even the birds are no where to be found.  The air is still and, despite the omnipresent sound of highway traffic, hushed.


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Cresting the hill, we come across a strange formation.  It's hard to tell if it's natural or man-made.  Large, cylindrical and pock-marked like old, worn concrete.  Its presence is jarring.  

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Suddenly, we are at the summit of the hill. It is large and flat and treeless.  Tall grasses and other plants tower over the snow.  In the distance I can see familiar highrises.

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The footprints that I have been following distinctly end in the middle of the clearing.  Should I turn back?  I've already walked so far, but perhaps there is a reason no one has gone further.  I decide to push onwards, I can always turn back at any point.  I am more curious to see around the bend.  I see mounds of snow and what looks like trees lining a path or road.  It soon becomes clear that the trees are actually at the crests of hills lining a railway track.  As I get closer, I see evidence of what was perhaps a road or paved path once ran near here.  Jagged crusts of asphalt jut out from snow covered piles.

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I find myself working my way downhill, forced onto a slender ridge.  There is evidence that a deer ran through here.  To my left, a GoTrain rushes by.  To my right, old, snow-covered train tracks lie abandoned.  Despite all the signs of the city that surrounds me, I feel as if I am in the loneliest place in all of Toronto.

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Ahead I can see the ridge narrowing.  The sides are steep.  I will have no choice but to make my way down or go back.  I know better than to try to walk on the train tracks, best to take the abandoned route.

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We need to be very cautious.  The old ties are uneven and I come close to tripping several times.  As we walk along, a fence arises to our right, topped in barb wire, with signs urging us to to "STOP!" and warning of demolition activity within its bounds.  All seems quiet today.

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Ahead I can see Islington, but begin to fret.  I am blocked on my right by the train tracks and the fencing from my current perspective seems to run right up to the street.  I have driven by here many times, but I can't remember how close the fencing actually runs to Islington.  The tracks run under a bridge and I feel nervous about attempting to cross them.  Trains run fast and quiet sometimes, they can be on you before you know it.  Plus the climb on the other side is very steep, I don't want to risk falling.  But my goal is so close, to double back at this point would be disappointing.  I keep moving on, and am grateful to discover a small street ahead, preventing the fencing from marching up to Islington.  I have a point of egress!  Tired, I am able to cross it and make my way on to Islington.  I still have a long walk ahead.


Useful Information:


  • Duration of Walk:  Relatively short walk, but snow makes for difficult terrain in places.  Roughly two hours (based on short legs, picture taking, doggy care and just plain figuring out where the hell I should go)
  • Difficulty:  INTERMEDIATE to ADVANCED.  Involved walking in deep snow, trekking off beaten path, unpaved trails, no trails, climbing over obstacles, obstacles hidden in snow, steep climbs and descents and a sense of direction.  This is not accessible for those with mobility issues.
  • Parking/Getting There:   For Crawford-Jones Park, parking is available off Dee Ave.   You can access via Pine Point Park by TTC by taking Islington Route 37North and getting off at Allenby St. and walking east several blocks until it dead ends in the park.   Pick up the trail south, going under the 401.  You can pick up the trek from there.  
  • Washrooms:  No.  I will note that there was a Port-a-Potty this past summer located by the parking for Pine Point Park, however I cannot vouch whether it was available for public use. 
  • Local Coffee Haunts:  No.  
  • Safety Factor:  RISKY in some places.  Proceed with caution and at your own risk.  Take a buddy.  
  • Special Equipment:  Hiking boots - water-proof and suitable for deep snow.  Warm clothes.  Water and food.  A phone in case you get into trouble.  
  • Suitable for Dogwalking?:  Yes.










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