The Meridian: Halving Burnaby with Jo
By
"Impulsive thoughts don't always have to be self-destructive. What about the ones that make you better and expand your sense of being?"
That was supposed to be my pitch if Jo wavered on my invitation to join me on my grandest walk yet, along the entire Burnaby landmass. Funnily enough, I never got around to using it. Right after I asked, she just said yeah, let's do it, which felt anticlimactic, though relieving.
She spoke about how a month into winter, seasonal depression was getting to her (you know? with the grey skies, chilly winds, and darker days). Said she'd love something to get her out of the house.
Perfect! I typed, now beaming over my glowing screen. What's better to warm away seasonal depression than dipping your feet in the icy Fraser River AND the cold seawaters of the Burrard Inlet?
For this grand quest, we're walking from the southmost point (river), through the landmass, to the northmost point (sea) of Burnaby. Let's go!
River
Sunday, top of the morning, everyone's slowly defrosting and we're both here like let's get this shit. Warmed up next to the humming machines at the Veolia plant, staring at an entrance to Foreshore Park, which lines the southmost bend of the city.
We followed someone walking their dog into the bush, over the cute little bridge, and lost them at the branching pathways. It wasn't that confusing, but still, we did lose track at an intersection or two, sometimes going in circles. If this is just the beginning, what about the rest of this walk? We chuckled.
Our initiation started when we heard silent slushing, and droning of machinery. The Fraser River was dirty, separating the landmass from Richmond.
If you're curious how cold it was that morning, just look at this:
Which is why Jo looked in shock when I removed my right sneaker. What are you d— She didn't finish the question and brought out her camera immediately. I think she assumed the whole dipping toes thing was metaphorical, but I meant it literally!
Of course, it took some build up, but I thought it'd be a good idea, some kind of ritual to mark the beginning of this trek. My frozen toes vehemently disagreed.
And
Now, we're walking up Fraser Way, hoping that what felt like solid ice around my toes would melt away. There seemed to be enough condensation happening elsewhere, from our breaths as we yapped the entire time (it'd been a while since we'd seen each other), and from the exhaust pipes of the surprisingly many Amazon delivery trucks that passed us by.
There was also a mystery shack we found there. Against our urges, we chose to respect the sign at the bottom right:
I like power walking on long stretches of road, but even more when we keep our eyes out for little side paths and follow curiosities about the things around us, like when Jo stopped to check out some rose hips on Glenlyon Parkway.
We tip-toed around the guardian eagle, and scurried into the creek connecting Marine Way and its Drive.
The dense bushes turned into lawns and cute little houses. The hill felt good to climb though that had us take off one layer.
At least the residential territory gave us reprieve from strange animal-machine predators…
Past Imperial St, we noticed the 1-3 storey homes rose tenfold and that was the sign that we were now entering Metrotown.
I'd done a few walks in the neighbourhood, so I pulled out my Gogomi to look for 'reds' (paths I hadn't yet explored). Why go the straight path when you can cover new ground and take little detours to the same destination?
A few detours later, we were back on Willingdon Ave, connected straight to Brentwood. We watched the cars stuck in traffic (it was now past noon and folks were—I guess—off to do Sunday afternoon activities).
We noticed a sedan with some kayaks bolted on top. In it was a mum driving two children in the back. They were just frantically jumping and judging by their wide-open mouths, making quite the noise. She was not having it, haha.
Time really flashed by. We were gossiping
exchanging stories about others in our lives, and suddenly we were
passing the next neighbourhood. Very typical of Brentwood, always
under construction for years. I found it interesting how on the same
road you have this tower project going on, and on the other side,
older homes, some hanging on by a thread.
Sea
The winds were sharper past Hastings St. The waters were nearby. We smelled salty air, fresh produce, and a whiff of bird poop (I'm fascinated by Jo's strong sense of smell, because I didn't get any of that until I saw the roost).
Jo wondered why I was sending her down Penzance Drive, which was lined with either bush or the oil refinery.
I said, "Don't worry about it, sweetheart". I knew where to go. I'd fallen into it last year (ep 15. walk to the sea). We got past the railway tracks and down the little slope, gently strolling instead of tumbling down like I did the other time. Woahhh!
The slush of sea water on the banks was even clearer now, and it felt great to view the North Shore mountains so closely. At this we felt the chill in our bones, whether from having walked in sub-10 degrees weather for that long, or direct exposure to the sea breeze, who knows.
OMG, did we really just walk 18 kilometres!? I saw Jo tapping on her smartwatch.
Yeah! And it didn't even—wait!
Smirk on my face as I bend down to my shoes. Grimace on hers as I take them off.
No, you wouldn't
But I must
Are you serious? It's so cold, see how I'm shivering
Yes, but…the ritual!
This exchange makes it look like I'm some daring adventurer, but I was just as scared. We were still a ways from the bank and my feet were already shaking, traumatised from the first dip. Still, the ritual had to be completed—I'd already dipped my feet in the Fraser River, the connection needed to be finished.
I walked, shivering, to the Salish waters. And slowly surrendered myself.
Rise Burnaby
After the 18km walk, we were filled with accomplishment and very empty stomachs, of course. Jo craved some cornbread, so we checked out Butcher's Block on Hastings Street.
In retrospect, this is the longest I've walked in one go. I expected the quest to be some kind of climactic thing, but surprisingly, it was just an average Sunday afternoon with a friend: frolicking, gossiping, situating ourselves in a city we've chosen to call home.
It's only as I'm writing this that I realise Burnaby's motto is "By river and sea rise Burnaby". A lovely coincidence. I wonder who else has done this walk.
Days later, Jo texted me. She was crossing the Ironworkers Memorial Bridge—same one we'd seen from the coastline—on her way to work. And what she wrote felt very true.
The world does reveal itself to those who travel on foot. How else are you gonna make the city feel like home?
