DAY ONE
Wednesday November 4th, 2020 Sunny, High 17 Degrees Celsius
The warm weather, a seductive siren at this time of the year, cries out to you to get off your duff and get outside. I answer the call and dust off my bike. I quickly find I’m not dressed warmly enough as the temperature is true only in sheltered areas facing the sun.
I’ve got my bike gear on and, as a concession to this time of year, I sport a short sleeve T-shirt under my short sleeve biking shirt. Long sleeves and gloves would have been a better move. It’s not impossible but not ideal; my bare legs don’t suffer as much as my bare arms. And I’m not alone; other bikers brave the elements in similar gear but everyone else is bundled and must be wondering what we cyclists are thinking.
Lake Ontario is choppy; a surprisingly rare sight. The family had a cottage on Georgian Bay and large waves, breakers really, were common so I don’t know why Lake Ontario should generally be so calm.
I take my usual route, heading east to the city centre along the waterfront. I notice wet patches on the path and realize that they’re the result of ice from last night’s below freezing temperatures melting. Mother nature wants us to put our warmer activities in storage.
So you bike a little more carefully and try to avoid the shade that keeps things from drying out.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve been biking and the open marinas catch your eye; all the sailboats are in. Only the tour boats downtown brave the on-coming season.
I bike through Ontario Place. Since Ontario Place is not currently functional, you have the freedom to tour behind the gated entrance. I’m a bit like a kid with the euphoria you felt when got to sneak under the tent at the circus. Everything that’s normally closed to the non-paying public is now open. Here, too, the marina is empty. I didn’t realize there was a marina here; probably for those day visitors to Toronto and Ontario Place.
Ontario Place harbours a bit of a beach, I call it Hidden Beach, where sunbathers settle to soak up the rays but rarely swim. But not today, two hardy (sic) souls, males, are shivering on shore in their speedos. I didn’t see them in the water but gathered they’d made the plunge when they asked someone to take their picture. Obviously something to brag about around the winter fire.
This is a stone beach; something I remember from overseas where sand is a foreign dream. And yet the draw of the water can’t be dismissed even at this time of year.
I bike on and come across a sock, a man’s single sock, centred on the path. I have to imagine its history.
“Harold, what are you doing, put your socks on.”
“It’s a beautiful day, relax, come on, kick off your shoes and loosen up. Enjoy the warmth. Oh no …”
“Harold, that dog just took your sock. Stop him.”
“Are you mad, that’s a rottweiler. He can have it.”
“But those are the socks your grandmother gave you …”
“When she visits I’ll make sure to cross my legs and only show the one with the sock on.”
I’m sure that’s what happened.
I carry on downtown to ‘The Beach’ just opposite the Roger’s Centre (formerly Skydome, a much better name) and check out the ‘action’, a male term that supposes bikini clad wonders are interested in you regardless of your age and/or condition. None to be found, not surprisingly, but a solitary single engine personal plane takes off from Billy Bishop airport to take on the countervailing winds.
I return on the same path that got me here and wave to a top down Chevy convertible, not a Vet. I’d forgotten that America still produced them; I see so few of them. Reminded me of the time I had a friend’s convertible in similar weather conditions and even with the heater on full blast I had to give up and raise the top. So much for looking cool in cool weather.
I’m now heading back home and decide to leave the lakefront around the Colborne Lodge exit; my hands are cold. Couldn’t miss noting that the rental bike stand was full.
I stop at the lights that control the lakeshore and pull up beside a damsel, not in distress, who is in an animated conversion on her cell. She obviously doesn’t want me to hear the goings on and quickly departs out of range. I had hoped that she’d abruptly end the cell conversion to start one up with me.
Home beckons and after 21 kilometers, I know, not much, I lock up and welcome the warmth.
NEXT DAY![]()
Again, delightfully warm so I have to get out. This time I put on a long sleeve shirt under my biking jersey and head west along the lakeshore.
I cross the South Kingsway at Ripley Avenue because I like the ride by the water. Historical buffs will enjoy the posted placards that tell some of the history of Toronto, unfortunately it’s on a path less travelled.
This area supports a landing for kayak lovers. I bike under the Gardiner Expressway and train bridges to cross the high traffic Lakeshore Road at Windermere and head west on the bike path.
This route takes you over the Humber Bay Arch bridge; a modern suspension bridge that, to me, doesn’t fit the surroundings but friends, including an architect, like it so I’m looking for new friends.
As expected, Lake Ontario is much quieter.
You pass by, what I call, Condo City, a collection of towers that must house in the range of 30,000 residents. The condo we call home towers all of 10 stories; these go up to 48. We recently had a false alarm fire at our condo and after the all clear, rather than wait for the elevators, I decided to show off and climb all 8 floors to return home. It turns out there was a bit of a wait for the elevators because they had to be reset. I’m trying to imagine managing a fire in a 48 story condo. I gather there are elevators that don’t stop at every floor but still.
How was the walk up to your penthouse?’
‘Thanks for your call, I don’t know, I’m on the tenth floor. I’ll call you in a couple of days. God willing.’
Like the marinas downtown, boats are shrink wrapped for the winter. 2020 was a short season for the sailing crowd.
The ride to the end of the path is only 5 kilometers so I decide to return, cross over the ugly bridge again and go up the Humber on the east side to rack up some pedaling. There’s no path beside the Humber here so I start up Riverside Drive which has had extensive reconstruction to stop the erosion. E-bikes were designed to take on the likes of Riverside Drive, a dramatic rising stretch of tarmac that looks over the Humber well below. This takes me to Bloor Street which I cross to connect with the bike path on the east side which starts here.
There are a lot of people out today, I think some school classes are enjoying the outdoors as well as not wearing masks. Today I saw two seniors, on separate occasions, pedalling those large tricycles, something I’d only seen previously in Florida. Wherever you go you get the feeling that everyone who’s enjoying the day suspects this might be the last for a while. You can feel them anticipating the cold. I’m OK but where did the advertised 17 degrees come from? That thermometer must be encased in an insulated blanket and only work when the sun is shining.
I cross the Humber on Dundas street, the path continues under the 401 to highway 7 and Finch and return on the west side of the river. You start at Home Smith Park. I have no idea where the name came from so I look it up but even Google can’t help. Would there have been a person named ‘Home Smith’? If there were, there could be a practical explanation; his Mother wanted a laugh calling him in when the street lights came on, ‘Home Smith!
Or maybe it was a smithy with an office in the basement. Stay tuned.
The Humber is almost dry. So dry, in fact, that people are walking on stony paths exposed because of the lack of water. These paths would normally be under several meters of rushing river. Amazing.
This is the part of the Humber that has a memorial to Hurricane Hazel in 1954. I can only imagine what the water levels were then.
The route stops briefly near the Old Mill Inn and continues to the west of it just before an attractive stone bridge over the Humber. Now that’s a bridge I can live with. This takes you south following the Humber till you hit Lake Ontario.
At this stretch along the Humber you border marshes which host a range of birds that spend their days on the lake. Deer and coyotes have also been seen. You continue and pass under the Gardiner Expressway and train bridges and then surface on the bike path I had used earlier in this ride heading west. I turn eastward and cross the Arch bridge for the 3rd time.
Now you know the answer to the riddle, ‘How can you cross the Arch bridge 3 times and yet end up on the side you started on?’
I’ve racked up 25 kilometers and again look forward to warming up.
DAY THREE
This should wrap up the sport for this year. Not unheard of to golf into the first week of November in Toronto. I recall golfing on my birthday, November 25th, but that’s unusual. Golf courses want to put their beleaguered, clubbed-to-death fairways and pock-marked greens to rest so they tend to close even if the weather’s OK.
You park the car on a driveway that splits the par 3 10th hole on one side and the home-coming par 18th on the other. You should park your car away from the side that shoulders the 10th hole to avoid its magnetism for wayward drives. Today we’re greeted by small geysers spouting along the 18th fairway. Sure sign the season is at an end; they’re blowing out the irrigation system before winter sets in.
Still some colour in the trees but most have given up their foliage. Biggest challenge on the course, of course, is the leaves (as an aside, dying to start a second NHL franchise in Toronto and calling the team the Toronto Oak Leaves). The course does its best blowing and vacuuming the flora but unless you can keep your shots on the fairway you’re challenged to find them among nature’s perfect imitation of a golf ball.
“There it is, no … there it is …. no ….. darn (sic)”
The fairways are still green and lush looking, remarkable for a public course. We thrash our way through 18 holes and take time for a 19th hole recovery basking outdoors in the welcoming warmth.
As for the distance travelled, the golf course measures some 5,500 yards or roughly 5 kilometers. Throw in the trips to the rough and general wandering and you still haven’t matched your typical bike ride. But then you don’t throw your body around biking like you do on a golf course and the heart pumping moments when you see your shot head towards the water have to add an effort equivalent to several turns of the wheel. The cart you drag is not an e-cart and it follows you for 4 ½ hours so you certainly feel a little more exercised playing a round of golf than you do biking. I’ll make it the equivalent of 23 kilometers of exertion and stay on course.
And the golf, you ask? Did I mention that it was a lovely day?
Epilogue
The fourth day, not scheduled to be noted, is expected to hit 20 degrees Celsius. Couldn’t be better, unless you’re a Democrat.