• fifty walks, walk five

    fifty walks, walk five

    Let’s call this one the Watino Waltz.

    I’ve had a lot of time behind the wheel of a car this week contemplating why I’m up in the nothern parts of the province, but it comes down to democracy. Every few years the government does some serious work that helps turn the wheels of our democracy, and lots of people are needed to help out. I raised my hand this time round and now I find myself five hundred klicks from home driving—and occasionally walking—as I hand out census cards on behalf of the federal government up north where mail delivery is not as robust.

    On my first day, the route had me starting in a little summer community of about twenty five homes.

    The Route

    I didn’t track my walk on GPS as I normally would another of these fifty walks but instead was relying on the data—which is respectably accurate—from the pedometer built into my watch.

    I didn’t track it because I was walking door to door, knocking and talking, and over the course of about three and a half hours had walked the entire village a few times and noted that my watch had crossed over the ten klick mark.

    The Effort

    Obviously it was not my fasted route, nor did it have but a few tiny slopes barely worth the mention, but I was working and wandering and stopping frequently to log my visits to each home.

    I’m calling it a 10.1km walk in 3:30 and every footstep of it was somewhere I’d never been before that day. If that doesn’t count as an adventure, I don’t know what would. 

    This brings my total up to 54.75km in about thirteen hours.

    The Highlight

    Of course, I met all variety of people out there in Watino. Maybe someday someone will get this post in a search and wonder why the heck someone is writing about their little community. I was the guy that brought you your census in 2026. I tried as hard as I could to find you and to count you for the census even though most of you were not there or were really hard to locate, and I enjoyed your little community for that cloudy morning in May as I walked and walked and walked through the streets.

  • may art be with you

    may art be with you

    Damn, it’s basically spring and I’m itching to do some sketching or painting or maybe all of it all at once and—it occurs to me that, yeah, far from being powerless to achieve all this I don’t really need any extra motivation to make something spicy but it never hurts, either.

    Last October I gave myself a suburban sketching art challenge. One sketch every day for one whole month. It was an honest to goodness challenge. Finding thirty to sixty minutes a day to draw, let alone trying to figure out the subject—well, that’s the hard part. The putting cute lines on paper less so.

    It will be May in a couple days from when I’m writing this. My month is looking curiously busy at the moment, though I’ve yet to lock down anything one hundred percent firm on that. My free time will be filled with running training, playing music as I continue on my piano adventures and also prepare for our spring concert, and getting the garden planted.

    Hopefully spring sticks, but even if it doesn’t… well, that’s life in the middle of freaking nowhere, right?

    I sat down last night I did something I really quite enjoyed. I did a tiny painting. I took a square of blank watercolour paper about 8cm on a side and, limiting myself to a small handful of colours, made a small scene with some textures and tones.  Forty-five minutes, most of that waiting for the layers to dry, and it felt nice to get back into the paint pots.

    I think I want to do another art challenge in May: no restrictions on subject or medium, just a sketch or a painting or something like that each and every day of the month.  And by saying “I think I want to” what I really mean is that I’ve already decided and I’m going to do it whether it’s a smart time management plan or otherwise. It’s a done deal. I’m doing it.

    How do you challenge yourself to be more creative? Do goals and challenges and deadlines work for you? I’ve been writing about all this and similar creative topics on 8clicks.8r4d.com. You should check that out and let me know.

  • fifty walks, walk four

    fifty walks, walk four

    I’m going to (mostly) skip over the part where the straight face I mentioned in my last walking post re:spring fell and we had another few days of chilling winter weather.

    Instead, I just jump right into the idle decision that the day had improved enough that I’d just keep walking when I set out on a cool Monday morning in late April. My first three walks had been long loops that had led right back to my front door, but for walk four I had wanted to try out a new plan: a straight shot walk from A to B.

    And what better place to act as my test-case B than West Edmonton Mall where I could find fun, food, and an easy bus ride back home?

    The Route

    We live in the South. The Mall, as the name implies, is in West Edmonton.

    There is a river in between us.

    I set out to find one of the few crossings that was not completely out of my way here, which took me down into the dog park and towards the pedestrian footbridge. I still think of it as the new bridge. It opened about ten years ago which is hardly new, but also means it was built after I moved to the neighbourhood and found myself frequenting the park… so, new-er. 

    A good half of the walk was through the wilderness of winding trails that took me from the nearby park access trails, down across the bridge, across a long stretch of trail across an open field and towards the 200-step step climb that is the Wolf Willow Stairs.

    From there I meandered through the neighbourhood, crossed another pedestrian-only bridge to hike over the Whitemud freeway, dodged through the last stretch of urban chaos and found myself crossing through a construction zone and into the parking lot of what was once the biggest shopping mall in the universe.

    I stopped my watch at almost exactly 11 km and 2 hours and 27 minutes. This means across four walks I have logged 43.65 km total and nearly ten hours of walking.

    The Effort

    I mentioned the stairs.

    I mentioned the newly minted fifth or six iteration of spring… I’ve honestly lost count.

    There was still patches of snow on the path in many places, and climbing in and out of the river valley in such conditions was never going to be a traditional walk in the park. It’s a long haul made perceptually longer by the fringes of intolerable conditions. Other than that, I really don’t have much to complain about. No bugs. No wind. And the sun just warm enough to fight off the chill without forcing me to strip down to stay cool.

    Navigating the construction going on up around the Mall—which has been happening for like three or four years at this point—as they bring an elevated LRT track through an established neighbourhood, past the hospital (where I was born) and alongside the busiest parking lot in Western Canada… that was less of a pain that I would have anticipated.

    And then I hopped into the Mall, had an expensive lunch, and found my way over to the bus loop to catch a ride back to the vicinity of my starting spot—and my couch.

    The Highlight

    The stairs are the obvious highlight: I hate climbing them, but the view is amazing, looking down the length of the twist and turn in the river, spanning back over the scenery I’d just traversed.

    On the other hand, and I don’t know if it counts properly because I’d already stopped my watch, but a dude was arrested on the bus. Two bus cops pulled him off and cuffed him and made a bit of a scene. They were telling him it was fare evasion, but I’ve never seen them full-on arrest someone for what is usually a minor ticket: there is probably a bigger story there. Maybe less of a highlight than a low point: ah, West Edmonton Mall, you never disappoint.

  • media: love, robots & cowboys

    media: love, robots & cowboys

    In between writing code and going for walks I have found a moment here and there to hunker down and keep checking off items from my epic science fiction streaming list.

    In the last couple months there has been something of a theme as I spent a month or so in the far future and the world of Asimov’s crumbling galactic empire before clambering back to the nearer future threats of rogue AI entertainment bots.

    streaming: westworld, seasons 1 & 2

    Reboots are a funny thing. After watching them for a while I always get the urge to go back and find the source material that inspired the reboot.  In the case of Westworld the television science fiction epic that spanned four seasons, it is based on a 1973 movie of the same name written by none other than Michael Crichton, you know, of Jurassic Park fame.  No surprise, because it’s damn near the same premise: man creates beast, man creates theme park based on beast, man is destroyed by his creation. In the case of Westworld, though, the beast in question is quasi-sentient AI robot cowboys in an old west theme park where rich folks cosplay their old west fantasies… until the robots fight back. We watched (most of) this show back when it was still quite new, and I had the seasons sitting in my library taunting me for two reasons: one, I kinda always wanted to do a rewatch, and two, we gave up after season three and I never saw the end (even though reports are that it never quite clambered back up to the quality of the first season… does it ever tho?). Such are the draws of tepid spring days, and I found myself recently binging through the first couple seasons, no small feat given that multiple episodes are movie-length and clocking each season well over ten hours of intense blood, gore and horny robot dramatics wrapped around some intense philosophical exploration on the meaning of consciousness theory of mind mind games. I really need to watch that ’73 flick to see how much of this overlaps. My experience on a second run through though was not quite how I remembered enjoying the show back in the late twenty-teens. This kind of storytelling often relies on mystery reveals to drag the plot forward. This great, don’t get me wrong, when the audience is seeing something intense and weird for the first time. It can pull reluctant watchers through thick plots and convoluted treatises on the nature of reality while they try to figure out who’s who and what’s what. On the second watch tho, the big spoilers have already been drained of all their impact and the only thing I could rely on (personally, say) is that my memory from watching these nearly ten years ago was a little washed over and unreliable. I always knew something was fishy, or that such and such a character didn’t make the casting call for season three, but getting there was only half as fun as the first time besides. If you haven’t ever watched Westworld it is worth the trip. To ask if it holds up in 2026 when we are now ten years closer to sentient robots and some of these weird questions are less hypothetical as we chatbot our vibes with our phones each night, well, that’s just a silly question.

    streaming: foundation, season 3

    I met R. Daneel Olivaw when I was in grade eight and my best friend at the time bought me a paperback copy of Isaac Asimov’s The Caves of Steel as a birthday gift. It was my introduction to hard science fiction that wasn’t Star Trek, and my first glimpse at the fantastic future worlds created by Asimov filled with galactic imperialism, sentient robots and mind-bending philosophies. The bridge into his Foundation series was not a far leap. Nor is the comparison to Star Trek, especially since this modern adaptation for Apple TV was apparently produced and (often) directed by Roxann Dawson, better know to many as half-Klingon engineer B’Elanna Torres on Star Trek: Voyager, another favourite of mine. And she done good, too. Foundation was long considered unfilmable. I suspect this partly due to the fantastic special effects, but anyone who has read Foundation will immediately know the real reason: the books break all the rules of fiction writing (yet somehow work) because they are literally just long conversations between people, usually sitting in offices, discussing strategic politics in the same way two opponents might have discussed a chess match hours later over a cup of coffee. Film that! Yawn. Luckily they took a different approach. I mention Daneel because (spoiler alert) the character finally emerges as part of the lore of the world recreated in this series (as happened in the books, too) in late season three with the same sort of adapted-for-the-screen sensibility that has followed this entire adaptation. Most of the complaints I had read were about this type of fuzzy interpretation of the source material, but those critiques were usually leaving out the part that Foundation was a serialized series of novellas written by a white immigrant in the 1950s who was telling a different kind of story and needed to get his work published in a deeply racially divided America. (Oh, how times have changed, huh? /s) Gender swapping certain characters, adding a realistic portrayal of a far future society far less concerned about skin pigmentation than ours, and focusing on the bigger themes of the story were only slightly jarring, and only because I had read (and listened to) this book so many times I needed to flux my perception into a new alignment, and yet not a bad one. It was a wonderful take on the story and brought the world to life in a way that I think even Asimov would have marvelled at. It’s just too bad it’s locked up on Apple’s streaming platform and I cancelled my subscription else I’d probably start over and watch it all again.

  • fifty walks, walk three

    fifty walks, walk three

    One of these days I’ll be able to tell you it is actually spring and keep a straight face.

    Once again my rhythm of walks was temporarily interrupted by a resurgence of winter. I don’t want to suggest I’m incapable of winter walking, but two things happen when we get a fresh batch of spring snow following a nearly complete thaw. First, every sidewalk and trail is a fresh slog for a day or two, and that’s not even considering that a spring blizzard is often just that… a blizzard, cold blasting, wind blowing, bout of bad weather. Second, for a day or two after the blizzard every path is a giant puddle, every trail is mud, and every route is an obstacle course. 

    If we do end up pushing this fifty walk challenge into November I will be walking through settled snow and shovelled trails as people come off a fresh summer and autumn refresher.

    Either way, I walked my third adventure stroll of this thing I’m doing which is trying to log fifty long walks around my world before my fiftieth birthday in November.

    The Route

    I didn’t know exactly where I was going when I left, but I started walking east. We are in this kind of corner of the city where there is the river to the west and the freeway to the south and kind of the rest of the city to the east and north.  There is city south and west of us, too, but it involves traversing the aforementioned river and freeway.

    So I walked east, which is really nothing new. I walk east all the time… but I usually turn back shortly after going east and don’t really go all that far. 

    Instead I just followed the path.  And then the sidewalk. And then I found myself traipsing over the freeway on the only bridge for a stretch of ten kilometres with a pedestrian sidewalk, wherein I found myself outside the suburbs and in the outer suburbs and very nearly in an exurb, which was just fine by me because there was a place to grab some lunch. I was a little more than an hour into the walk at this point.

     After lunch I ran out of sidewalk. 

    Well, strictly speaking I did some math and realized I was turning this unplanned stroll into a fifteen klick route unless I made some adjustments. I hiked across a school playground shortcutting the route a bit, pushing into the neighbourhood and finding the quasi-secret entrance to a very special place: a freeway crossing access.

    The Effort

    As I write this there are two giant heaps of graded fill straddling the freeway where (presumably this summer or sometime soonish) the planned pedestrian bridge will cross the freeway connecting our neighbourhood-ish with the commercial shopping area south of the busy road.  See, the planning department dropped the ball for pedestrians in the southwest corner of the city.

    Between the highway and the river, a space marked by say the six o’clock and eight o’clock positions on the city-as-a-clock-face and a stretch of about ten klicks there are exactly two official ways for pedestrians to cross the freeway, and one of those is pretty much at six o’clock.

    The other one took me four kilometres of walking to get to from my front door.

    There are two unofficial crossings, too: one is the graffiti tunnel (aka the oculus) which involves following an unmarked gravel path, walking down an abandoned stretch of road, climbing down a steep dirt hill, and finding what amounts to a giant culvert that was constructed nearly twenty years ago with some vague intention to hook it up to the city trails (which never happened) but which now dumps one out into a grassy field alongside a busy road, where one can walk up the shoulder for about five hundred meters to find the dead-ending trail which drops one onto the south side of the freeway.

    The second is the one I took, and it involves going to the far back corner of a neighbourhood, ignoring a number of warning signs, clambering down a rough path, walking through some muddy single track trail and climbing back up a steep gravel hill to where the trail system-proper connects to the pedestrian bridge suspended under the eastbound lane of the freeway. From there one is in the river valley trail system on the interior of the ring-road freeway and (at least in my case) a short walk from my house.

    That aforementioned pair of dirt heaps is an active construction project to build a third official crossing. I’m confident I’ll get to try it before I turn sixty.

    The Highlight

    I want to tell you that I did some serious exploring on this walk but I only really had a short stretch of new ground covered. These are not trails I travel often, and honestly I’ve never before walked this route. Run it, yeah. But walked? No.

    And it was just on the fringes of being walkable, too. 

    No spring maintenance has been done yet and the paths under the bridge as I was nearing the end of my route were spongy and wet.

    I did get a hint that the beavers had been out recently with lots of freshly gnawed trees to be seen along that stretch of trail, and it was great to see plenty of others out on the trails on bikes, running and enjoying the warm weather.

    I had to pull my jacket off half way through so that I was not drenched in sweat from the heat.

    In the end this walk comfortably hit my target distance, clocking in at 11.5km in 2 hours and 28 minutes. This brings my grand walking total for my first three walks up to 7 hours and 20 minutes for 32.65 km. If only I could monetize that my feet would earn me some serious cash, huh?

about

Welcome. I’m one of those weirdos who still writes a personal blog. In fact, I’ve been writing meandering drivel online for decades, and here you’ll find all my recent posts on writing, technology, art, food, adventure, running, travel, and overthinking just about anything and everything …since early 2021.

I write regularly from here in the Canadian Prairies about just about anything that interest me. Enjoy!

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