Back to work. Couldn’t help looking out the window at the rain and wishing I was at home with a book. Not just any book. A good book, one with ‘girl’ and ‘dragon’ and ‘tattoo’ in the title. And coffee.

Now I am at home, and I have that book and it’s still raining. But no coffee.

Just a short walk today, down Saskatchewan Drive, hauling a box with three deadish plants inside. A rehabilitation project, or a funeral, depending on the greeness of my thumb (or thumbs.)

5:56PM/13C

Make that three bridges. Three trestle bridges (that I know of) in the south part of Mill Creek Ravine. I missed the one right by the Mill Creek Ravine Park sign on 76th, because I came from the other direction yesterday. Amazing.

Had to walk up to Whyte Ave to return some movies, none of which were particularly good, but I returned them anyway. After I completed that task, I continued walking up to 76th and then, back into the woods. It’s stupidly nice out today, and the trail was packed. These last couple of weeks I’ve enjoyed having the woods almost to myself on weekdays, but now that my holidays are over, it’s back to shared trails and lugging my backpack around. Sigh. I suppose we all have to work, but it doesn’t say much for my job when the best part is the walk home. It’s not really the job, it’s just hard to compete with an hour or two in the river valley. Not that there’s anything wrong with cubicles.

12:52 PM/21C

Continued my exploration of the south end of Mill Creek yesterday. Needless to say, it’s lovely. Crossing 76th Avenue, I opted to take the unpaved lower path, thinking (correctly) that it would run parallel to the creek. Much to my surprise, but probably no one else’s, less than five minutes into this part of the ravine is a trestle bridge!

The bridge crosses over the path in two places. Happily, it’s accessible from the lower trail, so on my way back I took the trestle rather than re-tracing my steps through the woods. The view from the top of the bridge is nice, but the trestle is more visible (and impressive) from below. What an unlikely thing to find in the middle of the ravine.

The Mill Creek Trestle Bridge was built at the turn of the last century as a rail connection between Edmonton and the old town of Strathcona. According to the web, after passenger service ended in 1928, the south end of the rail line carried freight to and from various industrial locations, including Gainers packing plant. The old tracks, now paved, no longer support trains hauling locally produced wieners to faraway ports of call, but instead funnels joggers, off-leash dogs, and one very surprised walker (also locally produced), to various corners of the river valley. The trestle bridge is a rare reminder of Edmonton’s past, and an exceptionally stunning feature of Mill Creek Ravine.

The rest of the trail was nice, but fairly unremarkable. The creek on the south edge of the ravine is so miniscule it’s more of a crick than a creek. I really had to make an effort to find it in some places…and eventually, it kind of just wound itself out. I know the feeling.

Today (Saturday), I went old school and walked through Rossdale. Actually, my intentions for this walk went well beyond mere exercise; I was also checking for worms. When I walk home from work, I occasionally use the trail that runs through Rossdale, and in June (sometimes earlier), it is infested by green ash worms. They are not actually worms, but caterpillars, also known as leaf-rollers, and it’s not just one or two…more like hundreds, if not thousands, hanging from long threads in the ash trees along the river like a psychopaths sick joke. I try very hard to avoid the area for the entire month of June, because these tiny green zip-liners make me scream like a four year old. However, I only saw two, which means they’re just starting their hellish life cycle. Rossdale is probably safe for another week, maybe less. Too bad. This neighbourhood is otherwise quite beautiful, just not in June.

2:30PM/20C

Today, Tuesday, on the second day of the merry month of June, from 1:30 to 3:42, I experienced the best walk of 2010, thus far. Just a gorgeous day. Warm, sunny, and waiting in front of me, an entirely new trail to explore. I’m ashamed to admit that in all the years I’ve been walking in the river valley, I’ve failed to connect with the southern part of Mill Creek, simply because…well, I don’t have an excuse. However, today…I walked up to 76th Ave (Mill Creek extends to 63rd), and took my first enthusiastic step into the southern end of Mill Creek Ravine. Have to say, and I am biased on this issue, Mill Creek is the loveliest neighbourhood in the city. Just the walk to the ravine was fabulous, once I veered off 99th street. The houses are mostly small, but incredibly well-kept and funky. Big trees. Lots of birds. And then there is the ravine…that beautiful, meandering thing steps from everyone’s door in Mill Creek. I feel very lucky to live in this neigbourhood.

There are many access points into the ravine. Sometimes they take the form of gravel or paved paths, but most often it’s a set of wooden stairs, which is what I encountered today at the end of a dead end street near 76th. Hard to explain the excitement I felt descending into an unexplored area of the river valley. As a card-carrying nerd, I spent most of my childhood indoors reading or drawing, so my particular form of mid-life crisis is all about getting lost in the woods. Maybe one day I’ll even climb a tree! Nah. Who am I kidding? Gracelessness is not something you outgrow.

Back to the trail…

Like Mill Creek Ravine north, the southern end has many little wooden bridges. Within a very short distance, I counted four of them, each one lovelier than the next. The ravine seems deeper here, or perhaps the trees are just taller. Twenty minutes into the hike, I was under the bridge on 82nd Ave, and shortly after that, Mill Creek Pool. Tomorrow, if it’s not raining, I’m going to start from 63rd.

On an adjacent path near the pool, a fellow was playing his fiddle. No, that’s not a euphemism. He had a real violin, and he was standing in full sunlight on a hill, playing a tune, and playing it very well. I’ve encountered musicians a few times in the river valley playing their instruments for the amusement of the squirrels. I understand the motivation. It’s like dining al fresco; tofu weenies, or whatever is being served, just tastes better in the great outdoors. Same with music. As a frequent visitor to the Folk Fest, I can attest to the fact that something happens to a song when it floats on a breeze and mixes with other ambient outdoor sounds, like birds, and even airplanes. I can also attest to the fact that this transcendent experience ‘on the hill’ at the Folk Fest rarely translates to the recorded version, although my skin doesn’t burn quite as badly when I listen to a CD.

After Mill Creek Pool, the trail branched off in several directions, one of which led to a familiar path. I continued walking for another hour. Why stop? It’s not like I have a job or anything. At least not this week.

6:10 PM/21C

A sunny day!

Not terribly warm, but the bright sun and blue sky were adequate compensation. Wandered over to Riverdale for a quick visit. As mentioned in a previous post, this neighbourhood is no longer accessible via the Dawson Bridge because of repairs, so I just did a loop from the Cloverdale Bridge. My entire walk was just under two hours. It doesn’t take very long to walk through Riverdale, although I slowed my pace just a bit. It seems appropriate. In spite of all the new development, the predominance of pre-1950’s homes makes the neighbourhood seem sleepier than it probably is.

Ran across a cat that had been shaved to look like a lion. A very thin, pathetic facsimile of a lion. The head, ‘ankles’, and the end of the tail were left furry, and everything else was shaved to the skin. Exceptionally unkind, I think. Perhaps not physically, but for a cat, this is straight up emotional cruelty. (That’s what the cat said, anyway.) She seemed humiliated, and who wouldn’t be? I could never do that to my cat. First of all, she’s fat…so if I shaved off all of her fur, she’d look like a dwarf Buddha, and because I would have just experienced my own bloody demise, my ability to enjoy this visual would be greatly compromised. I apologized to the kitty on behalf of all apes, and sent her on her way. There was no pride in that lion.

3:50 PM/14C

…in Hawrelak Park, with the exception of the geese. And the goslings. Many fuzzy goslings. The smaller they are, the more golden. The older ones are less fuzzilicious, and grayer, like their parents. Apparently, some geese are far more fertile than others, or perhaps Hawrelak has an extensive daycare program on site. One pair had about 20 goslings under their collective wings, all of whom were being ordered about by a fishwife of a mother goose, with the inevitable befuddled dad looking on from the sidelines. In the water! Out of the water! Down this way! No! Not that way, this way! It was very amusing, and kind of familiar.

At the north end of the park, there was a sudden invasion of angry protesters with placards and yelly voices. Hard to imagine what sort of support they hoped to acquire in an empty park on a cold day. (The geese were clearly busy.) As I got closer, I could see the signs had flowers and sparkles, and the whoops of righteous anger were actually whooping school children. The dead giveaway was the Panago Pizza truck parked by the shelter where the young rebel rousers were gathering. Real protesters don’t eat pizza; fair-trade trail mix is what soothes the civically unrested.

Spent the early part of the afternoon at Hole’s Greenhouses drooling over containers of flowers that were so perfect and beautiful they seemed edible. Didn’t buy anything. Might get a frost tonight, and it would have looked pretty ridiculous hiking home with a potted begonia in my arms. Actually, I did buy a plaque with a sculpted bee on the surface.  I am very fond of bees, and the plaque fit nicely into my backpack. Tempted by the gargoyles but they didn’t seem quite as portable. Next time.

After several other visits in St Albert, got dropped off at Laurier…a very mucky Laurier, and then over to a wet Hawrelak. Still cold outside. The clouds are sodden and unsettled. But…no rain today. And no snow. On Saturday the snow came down so straight and fast it looked like it was being pulled to the ground by powerful magnets.

What a weird May.

According to Josh Klassen, coldest May since 1996. Twice as much precipitation as Jan thru April combined.

7:10 PM/12C