The Route Downtown

I’d walked to and from the downtown core so many times over the years while growing up on Hart Street, I could walk it in my sleep. And have.

The route I took passed through much of the “old town,” so there were a lot of back lanes, and I put them to good use. I probably shaved about 5 minutes off my time, considering the wide arcs I’d have had to walk round were they not there. Before I’d make the trek, either to or from, I’d check the time. The Howard-Lee bus departed from the depot every half hour back then, not like now, when the bus departs every hour (no wonder no one takes it anymore, given the inconvenience of the service, nowadays; I could rant on this for a while, but I doubt the town would waver from its tired old use-it-or-lose-it arguments). If the bus was due to leave downtown, or arrive at my bus stop within 10 minutes, I would take it; otherwise, I would begin walking. I walked fairly fast, back then (I suppose most adolescents do, having litres of adrenaline and hormones to burn off), and if I had a head start on the bus, I would usually beat it to my destination, or arrive at about the same time. That was a fare saved, a huge deal when existing on a limited allowance, or working for less than minimum wage, later on (more on that in memories to come). One had to count one’s pennies if they were to add up to quarters, the currency of choice for the arcade generation.

Here was the route. Follow on Google Maps, if you’ve a mind to. I’d leave my house (560 Hart), mount the hill up to Howard, where I would enter the first laneway. That back lane crossed Leone, and continued on until it exited back onto Hart Street, go figure (many steps saved). Hart merged onto Patricia. Where Patricia merged/ended at 8th Ave, I followed another back lane to Cherry Street, rounded the corner onto 7th, just in view of Toke (you know that intersection; it’s the one with the Art Deco house on the inside corner), followed 7th to Hemlock, then Hemlock to 5^th, past St. Matthews Anglican, past Spruce, cutting across the 101 Mall’s parking lot to Algonquin, and then onto Pine, and there was Downtown and Top Hats. The bus stop, on Cedar, was just a short alley’s walk away.

There was a blue-eyed husky along the way. I named him Blue, because of the blue kerchief tied around his neck. Not terribly imaginative, I know, but he wasn’t my dog (Piper was my dog then, a feisty West Highland White). I’d always stop to greet Blue, crouch down and scratch him behind his ears, accept the expected licks, and if I were leaving from home, I’d always pocket a couple of treats for him. He was a lonely dog, I think, tied up in a back alley, with little foot traffic to keep his interest. And sadly, one day he was gone. His dog house remained, the rope that held him too, but he was no longer alongside there to greet me, having faded to a memory I still cherish.

One day, after Blue had left this world, I was walking home, lost in my thoughts. A moment passed. And when I looked up, I found I was spilling out of the lane at the top of Hart Street. The last thing I was conscious of was rounding the Art Deco corner at 7th and Cherry. I’d walked almost half way home on autopilot. So, yes, I’d walked home in my sleep.