Kilometer 0 and it is Koody’s turn to send us on our way. We are no more than 2 minutes into the ride when we face our 1st uphill battle – very minor – about a .05% gradient – and for some unbeknownst reason, Hoody’s little ‘leggers’ are struggling. Koody is still buff as ever so it’s quite apparent it will be up to him to be egging Hoody on today. If I’m not careful, Koody will be calling me’ Wimpy’.
Onward we go with a pleasant ride through residential s
treets until we reach the Semi
ahmoo Trail, an early Native trail that linked tribal villages to the Fraser River. With a wave of his hand, Koody leads the way through the bush. We ride on a downhill gravel trail, seemingly alone, when through a clearing on our right we notice a small pond. We stop to observe a mother duck leading her babies out for a 
morning paddle – camouflaged quite nicely in and among a thick covering of lily pads. Also at the pond, and to Koody’s credit, he finds a ‘White Rock’ He deems it to be the original rock of the town of the same name. This immediately sets the tone for today’s outing – we will let our imaginations run wild.And wild it is – today we are ‘hunter-gatherers’ forging our way on the trail to the riverside. We stop for a few moments to test ou
t the 
berries but clearly they are not quite in season. Then over a highway crossing to view the advent of cars and trucks – clearly something new for Koody as he stops for a Kodak moment. Continuing on we come to the old Elgin Schoolhouse. Originally opening its doors on October 1, 1921, it is a building steeped in local history. While here, Koody took the opportunity to enroll for the September term, hoping to b
rush up on his ABC’s.Continuing, we finally reach the Stewart Farm situated on the Nicomekl River. We are whisked back to the 1890’s while wandering around the grounds. There is a pole barn housing old farm machinery and implements. It is here
that Hoody ‘sees’ Koody through a new set of eyes. Growing up in Malaysia, Koody has never studied early North American farming methods. Hoody, on the other hand is well-versed. Hoody is thoroughly enjoying every moment of Koody’s fascination - something taken for gra
nted by one person is so enlightening for another. Koody tries his hand at pumping well water, but alas, the water seems to have run dry.The farm is a fairly self-sustaining unit, complete with an orchard of plum, apple and pear trees (Koody’s horticultural expertise figured that out) and a
vegetable and herb garden, some plants an amazing 100 year old. We even discovered 
‘tennis ball’ lettuce – if you can imagine that. We took a moment to ‘sme
ll the roses’ before eventually continuing on our way.It is a ride along Crescent Road, a fairly busy thoroughfare , but scenic in its own right - with gorgeous p
roperties and Koody’s future lottery winning’s address lining the road (Koody has agreed to adopt me). The book we are following along highlights this portion as HILLS! Just one will do thank you – a long, arduous and deceptively steep slope up Crescent Road until Wimpy (definitely moi) and Buffy (hill, what hill?) reach Crescent Park, the ½ way point for today.Crescent Park is a maze of trails through a forest. We delve into the thicket, not entire
ly sure of the way when voila! – we reach a clearing and a cricket game in progress. We skirt the game and field, ride through a parking lot and end up on a residential street. Lost. Hoody, relying on her keen sense of direction points west while Koody confirms this on his GPS (a true example of a generation gap). Passing some local wildlife, we once again enter the park and its myriad of trails. We emerge again, 
this time in Dogwood Park – aptly named for the 25 or so dogs that are running leash-free. We escape the pack with our pant legs in tack and cycle back along 20th Avenue to our car.We head home, the 17 kilometers taking a huge toll on Koody. He succumbs to sleep in the car, nodding off to ‘la la land’ and dreaming of our next adventure. It will have to wait until July. In the meantime, “Happy trails to you, until we meet again!”
