More than a month goes by. It seems that every day something is going on that keeps me from going for a walk: errands, the garden, a sick cat who has to be taken to the vet–it’s always something. Finally, a free day. Well, not completely free. I have a few errands, but I can incorporate them into a walk. So off I go.
This time I try something new: I leave my walking sticks at home. I haven’t gone on a long walk without them for years–not since I bought my first pair, in fact, six months before I walked the Camino de Santiago. In Spain, there were two kinds of walkers: people with sticks, and people without sticks. I was always someone who walked with sticks. What’s it like to walk without them? I decide to find out.
I head up Albert Street. It’s not a nice place to walk, but that’s where my errands take me. Lots of traffic and few pedestrians. That’s no surprise: who’d want to walk up Albert Street?
I turn left onto Avonhurst Drive. I’m hungry and I know I have a long walk before lunch. So I buy a bag of peanuts at a south Asian grocery. I eat them as I walk. You can do that when you’re not using walking sticks.
I’ve never walked this way before and I miss a turn, going straight where I should’ve turned left. I check Google Maps. I don’t have to turn around; I can keep going and turn left after I cross the bridge over the expressway. I walk past a high school, and three girls point at me and laugh. Tilley hats, you see, are the opposite of cool.
I cross Pasqua Street. That’s another busy road, and there’s no sidewalk. I walk along an alley behind some houses on the west side of the road. The alley ends, but a road allowance continues north. The road allowance ends at a cluster of stores grouped around a Home Depot. I walk through the parking lot and turn onto Rochdale Boulevard. I’m close to the halfway point.
But first, lunch. I stop at the place where I had the delicious soup on my last walk. At the last minute, I decide to order tofu with ginger and onions. It’s colourful but otherwise a disappointment. Oh well. My mother always said, “What won’t fatten will fill.” I think that means that even if it doesn’t taste that great, it’ll keep me going. And it does.
I walk to the end of Rochdale Boulevard and turn south on Courtney Street. This is the real halfway point, this intersection. A big sign announcing the new Coopertown development stands where Courtney ends at 9th Avenue North, but there’s no construction going on–not yet, anyway.
Now I’m on the footpath that runs along Wascana Creek. Cyclists pass me, along with a few people walking their dogs. I amuse myself by taking photos of the clouds.
I don’t see any loggerhead shrikes, but I see the sign inviting them to hang around (and inviting people to leave them alone, I suppose).
I cross under the CP bridge across Wascana Creek and have to make a decision. Will I carry on along the creek, or will I turn east onto 13th Avenue and treat myself to an ice cream? The ice cream wins out. I cut short my walk, and head for the ice cream shop, where I get a mango frozen yogurt. Then I turn for home.
My phone tells me I walked 23 kilometres. Would I walk that far without my sticks again? I don’t think so. Somehow I think it’s easier walking with the sticks. Maybe I’m just used to them. Anyway, I’m tired and stiff and I can feel blisters starting to form on the soles of my feet. When I get home, I take a nap. I’ll need to get used to walking longer distances and carrying a full pack if I’m going to enjoy the walk I have planned for August. I’d better get serious about training! Maybe another walk tomorrow?
Good to hear that you are getting out again, Ken. I always feel that the first training walk for a bigger pilgrimage is significant somehow – like a commitment marker in the sand. I’m interested in your comments re sticks. I’m a pilgrim that walks with one staff – I guess that makes me ‘confused’. Sorry to hear the meal was not so great, it looked wonderful. I did a great new walk along the Murrumbidgee river near Canberra last Friday. It wasn’t as far as you walked but it was a narrow, windy track with a fair bit of climbing and descending so tiring enough. If you are ever here in Oz I’d love to show you a few of these trails. And if I’m ever in ‘Sas’ (not sure how you refer to your prairie lands, you can take me around Wascana Creek. I hope both things happen one day.
I hope both things happen, too. You never know! Visiting Oz is a dream of mine.
I’m not sure there is a short form of the name “Saskatchewan.” It’s from a Cree word that describes the river, “Kisiskatchewanisipi,” or “swiftly flowing river.” I’ve only really seen it in Saskatoon and Prince Albert, and it doesn’t go that fast–maybe because of all the weirs and dams.