7 September 2026 – You won’t remember and I had to look it up, but back on 17 April, I titled a post Walking the Dogleg. It was all about walking the final stretch of the Arbutus Greenway north from West 16th, around its “dogleg” twist, to the end at West 4th. This weather-friendly holiday weekend, I decide to walk the rest of it — the 7-plus kilometres that precede the last bit, the total running some 9 km from the Fraser River in the south to False Creek in the north.
It is old railway land that is now a walking/rolling/running/cycling corridor, mostly beside Arbutus Street, bordered in places by community gardens and by various dimensions of streets and alleys and cityscape all along the way. I am totally in favour of it, for multiple reasons you can guess for yourselves. But. I just, and here my voice drops to a whisper…
I just don’t much identify with it.
So if you have something else to do, go do it and I won’t sulk. If you stick around… well, I hope you’ll agree there are some endearing moments along the way.
I haven’t walked this southern stretch in eight years, but here I am: feet on the Greenway down by the Fraser.
More specifically, I’m at the level of West 71st Avenue, near the very bottom of the red-line trail on this map.
The map also shows how the City’s grid of E/W avenues are numbered, decreasing from south to north, making it easy to situate yourself on the Greenway as it crosses the numbered intersections.
As you’ve probably already guessed, this post will not be faithfully linear. It’s more about those endearing moments.
The first of which occurs ’round about the West 53rd level, and high time too, because while I appreciate the health benefits of striding along a pathway between grassy borders (cf. that first photo), and while I am trying to have Proust-like “new eyes”… the fact remains that this is all very much of a muchness. I would like Something To Happen.
Then it does. The first of a string of community gardens, this one with lots of labels to help Greenway passers-by know what they are admiring.
That tall V, for example, is formed by two spikes of Bear’s breeches (Acanthus mollis). I admire the general effect, read a few more labels, and then, gleefully…
I zero in on Pot Head. Also labelled. (Now you know what to do with your old plastic plant pots.)
Even much-of-a-muchness stretches have their endearing moments. I am just thinking how some type of Knobby Yellow Stuff is all along the path, when I see someone has put it to good use.
In a nosegay for this traffic cone.
More walkers appear, as the day wears on and as I move farther north, and also plenty of cyclists. This lot look mildly dramatic, with their helmets and their sleek outfits, whirring themselves southward under a line of solar panels, the farthest panel a-flare with sunlight.
But I have more fun watching a dad give his toddler son some biking pointers, while older son pedals around in circles, waiting for them to get going.
“Stay in the bike lane, and stay on the right-hand side,” says dad to the little guy. “Remember, always stay on the right.”
I discover a couple of community libraries along the way. How much fun is that?
The first is an obvious fit with the location, and clearly labelled to boot.
I look inside. Seed and gardening materials, as you’d expect, plus a note from organizer Daisy, inviting feedback.
Which she gets.
The other library, some 10 blocks farther north, is entirely anonymous. Just four black cubes in a sort of lean-to, with no explanation.
I poke around anyway, because I am curious. When I see the cubes have doors and the doors are not locked… I open a door. Of course.
Each cube is full of books. Some I’ve read, some don’t interest me, and while I admire the range, I don’t pick up any of them. (Later, I mildly regret not taking Kim Echlin’s Elephant Winter.)
There are lots of public access points for the Arbutus Greenway. Some are just pedestrian paths, up from a neighbouring street or park; some are minor or major road crossings, with the trimmings appropriate to their scale. Here, at King Edward Blvd. (between West 26th and West 24th), there are traffic lights and zebra markings and everything you’d expect for a major artery.
Plus logs, for sitting or, as above, stretching out your leg muscles before continuing your walk.
I only see one private access point — one homeowner has created his own gate and walkway from his property out to the Greenway.
There are views out to the side, as well as straight ahead. Most of the time, since I’m walking north, the mountains are straight ahead. (When I first moved here, a good friend tried to orient me. “Repeat after me,” she said. “Mountains, north.” I dutifully repeated, “Mountains, north.”)
I’m not yet at the dogleg I described last April, but I am at a version farther south: a short stretch near West 33rd where the trail runs east/west. Therefore my long view, sideways to the left as I walk temporarily east…
is mountains, north.
Close-up views also, either side. I see a flash of colour in the trees, figure it out, and promptly give the location a name. Elbows-Up Alley.
Somebody has nailed a big, bright Canadian flag to the trees, in that laneway down in the dip.
Now the confession of a not-endearing moment. More than a moment! By the time I’ve walked from West 71st level to West 41st, I am feeling a bit peckish, but I decide to wait. As memory serves, there’s a place where I’d like to eat just a bit farther ahead, at West 33rd or so.
Except, oops, memory doesn’t serve, there’s nothing at that level and I walk on. And on. And on. And when finally I see what I’ve been looking for, just over on Arbutus Street itself… I’m at West 16th. Good grief.
Lunch time, you bet.
Having eaten, I decide to stay with the city street. It promptly rewards me with another community garden.
Enjoy it while you can.
But isn’t that life? Everything changes.
On that philosophic note, I left-turn onto West Broadway (equivalent of 9th, had it been numbered), smack amidst the subway-extension construction…
and catch a bus-ride home.
WALKING WOMAN 