The Joy of Shortcuts

It was with great anticipation that I saw a new shortcut emerging this spring. I have often run by the intersection of Highway 10 and Fourth Avenue, looking across to Island Lake in the misty morning. A bridge appeared on the east side of the highway more than a year ago… but there was no way to get to it. At least, no way that didn’t involve crossing the highway without a walk signal, going through a swamp and only then making my way to the bridge.

I finally see that a route into the park is emerging and that the bridge to nowhere will soon be connected. Screenings have been laid and a walk signal installed. Now it is possible to enter the trail system safely from the west side of the park, as well as the north and south entrances.

Shortcuts abound in our everyday lives. Some are formalized, such as the one under construction at the conservation area. But the shortcuts that really interest me are the informal ones that develop naturally through use over time.

As children, we experimented with impromptu shortcuts every day. I lived in Brampton for a short time when I was growing up and I benefitted from being able to whip through the central park zone of Peel Village to get to the other side in five minutes flat. By car, it would have taken ten.

Children will take the natural shortcut, every time! Why go around something when you can go over it? Children traverse creative routes over benches and road blocks, hopping, skipping and crawling over whatever gets in their way. You may tug on their hands and say, “Don’t climb on that! It’s not your property!” But where there is a will, there is a way.

As your child’s world grows and expands, the shortcuts become more purposeful. Witness the teenagers sneaking through backyards to get to high school on time. Their morning commute is cut by two-thirds if they slip unnoticed over fences instead of taking the usual pedestrian route. Homeowners either shake their fists in dismay and set their dogs on these transient teens, or else welcome the passers-through by building a gate – one that will often be mysteriously fixed with a string that hangs over the other side for entry later in the afternoon when school gets out.

Laneways may be the ultimate shortcuts in our rural towns. The historic lanes that parallel our main streets are a sneak peek into our past. They hold the secrets of days gone by when carriages pulled up behind stately homes and horses would be bedded for the night. Now these laneways act as perfect shortcuts for stroller pushing and dog-walking off the main drag. When I peek over fences and into garages converted to home studios, I feel that I am seeing a more personal and gentle side to my town.

Urban Parkourists have taken short-cutting to a hard-edged athletic art form. Practitioners of Parkour, or l’art du déplacement (the art of moving), move through the urban landscape in the most efficient way possible. Their amazing physical abilities are something to behold and are not for the faint of heart. Tumbling, flipping, running, jumping, vaulting, rolling. Skateboarders also seek out creative routes and even make travelling over concrete fun once again.

Some of us never lose our passion for shortcuts. I still get a thrill of satisfaction when I scale a split rail fence quickly and efficiently, something I learned growing up in the hills. While I may not jump down from the top rail anymore, it hasn’t lost its appeal. My son wiggles and worms over (and through) the rails, aiming to perfect his approach. Little stone piles, wooden stepladders or stumps may seem to be positioned at random, but for the shortcut taker, their intended purpose is perfectly clear.

The Joy of Shortcuts ~ Illustration by Shelagh Armstrong