Vancity Vibes | DAY 11: (Pt.1) Lynn Canyon Park

Though I had been quick to propose hiking as the answer to a long-awaited meetup, neither of us could have predicted the 99-100% rainfall forecast for the selected date. It was, regrettably, the single instance of my stay where precipitation filled the day in its entirety.

I geared up in layers, drawstring nylon pants, and hiking boots. Braids and my new ahgase necklace finished the look. My jacket, the only one I brought for the entire trip, was draped over my shoulders in an attempt to shield myself from the impending droplets.

​Setting out for King Edward station, I realized I had overestimated the amount of travel time needed. I detoured into Aberdeen Square briefly, in search of lavatories, as Translink stations were not equipped with indoor plumbing facilities.

I then continued past the Richmond-Vancouver boundary, re-emerging at ground level in the neighbourhood of South Cambie.

​Chair-less was the station shelter and drizzly were the outside conditions. With my arrival thirty minutes earlier than anticipated, my partner-in-crime was barely out of the door. Instead of staying put for another fifteen, I began to browse the vicinity - first virtually via Google Maps, then by foot upon discovering the close proximity of Paragon Tea Room.

The tea boutique had been bookmarked for potential exploration well in advance of the trip, though, without definite plans to visit, I had never bothered to confirm its coordinates.

The establishment was empty at my time of visit - reasonably so, given that its doors had just opened at 10 AM. Fully stocked were the shelves and pastry display: the names I had gleaned over online materialized before my eyes. Brioche donuts and cookies were stacked by the cash register.

One of the staff members approached me as I gazed upon the product assortment. Despite embodying tonality of a tourist greater than a tea connoisseur, I was not regarded with any less respect. The team member admitted that, as she did not bake personally, she was unable to extend commentary in regards to the type of houjicha most suitable for the purpose. That said, she called upon feedback from a coworker to assist with my inquiries.
As I neared the cashier with my picks of hojicha obsidian and genmaicha (the soufflé cheesecake was too good), the cookies caught my attention. I took the opportunity to ask my chauffeur of her gustatory preferences, in the meantime conversing with the staff member. Our chatter would unveil her Ontarian upbringing, along with the shocking revelation that we had grown up in the same neighbourhood. What a small world it truly was!

​The reply came back, politely declining my offer for AM sugar. For my own latter consumption, a Cornflake Earl Grey Cookie and Okinawa Sea Salt Dark Chocolate Cookie was added to the order, resulting of a bill total just short of thirty dollars. I took a quick peek at the single stall bathroom, painted luxuriously in forest green, and headed back into the rain.

​I spotted Rain or Shine Ice Cream en route back to the bus stop, grinning to myself at its exceedingly appropriate name.

Soon, I met my companion for the day, in her designated alleyway of choice for pickup.

​She whisked me away to Bahn Mi Saigon, where we would procure picnic-able paper bag lunches.

​The sandwiches were ginormous and extremely affordable. A Special Dac Biet set me back seven dollars in cash. Having been provided only a paper bag that nearly did not conceal the banh mi's ends, I wrapped the lengthy baguette in a plastic bag before stashing it into in the drink compartment of my backpack.

As we navigated through unfamiliar arterials, I was fondly informed of the memories embedded along each residential strip. Boarding the ramp onto Hwy 1, I instantly felt more at ease. Although supporting fewer lanes than 401, I was more accustomed to highway maneuvering and felt instantly calmer. The driver, on the other hand, expressed anxieties towards travelling at high(er) speeds and uncertainty towards the direction of travel. Exit ramps were another point of bewilderment for her, and I wish I had allowed Google Maps to take the reins in navigation assistance.

​The roads - all of them - were utterly foreign to me. Alas, we managed our arrival at Lynn Canyon Park issue-free.

​Admission to the Suspension Bridge Park was free, but parking fees had been imposed by private vendors such as impark. There was also an apparent three-hour parking limit, though I was dubious that enforcement protocols would be followed stringently given the climate and corresponding visitor counts.

​​​Of course, I also declared unlikely for the park to be empty. Rain days in Vancouver are not uncommon. While residents of Central/Eastern Canada have tendencies to postpone schedules for a rain check (no pun intended), I was of the opinion that BC residents were more likely to accept the given weather conditions and proceed, for the rescheduled date may also fall on a rain day.
My suspicions were confirmed by the presence of a school field trip and several incoming families.

View the full album HERE !

Bathrooms were located in an adjacent section to the café, which happened to be closed for the day. Directly across from the bathrooms was the directory and trail map. This was the only map that was entirely intact, as those spotted later during the course were either outdated or exhibited scratches and peeling at its critical points.

​Within steps of the trail head was the Lynn Canyon Suspension Bridge. The immediate presence of the lookout point was admittedly anti-climatic, especially given the rural setting compared to Capilano. There needed no physical strain for the sight, but merely meticulous footsteps to avoid slipping and splashing.

​The bridge was also much steadier, shifting minimally with the exception of crossing foot traffic.

​Our hike would continue along the Baden Powell Trail, downpour consistent throughout. Before I realized my jacket had soaked through, and I learned of the pivotal difference between "water repellant" and "water resistant".

​The original plan had been to loop about the trail, cross the Twin Falls Bridge, and make our return. At some point along the path, we took a wrong turn. Nonetheless, from the path we strayed not. Walking areas had been clearly identified with wooden surfaces and safety fixtures (yellow caution strips) to combat muddy, hazardous ones with steep changes in elevation.

​There was an undeniable serenity about the scene. Blue skies were in absence, but in its place a haziness that granted the setting a surreal appearance. Just like my post-thunderstorm SUP experience, it was a tranquil trek. Weather conditions had promoted prolonged interaction with nature, rather than unwanted crossovers with other visitors.

​Passing my mossy trunks and rocks, we approached a clearing with running water. River-like in its current properties but lake-like in shape and shallowness, we paused to admire the structures of stacked stones before continuing onwards.

​There was no shortage of stairs in the park. Between the numerous descents and ascents, knees and hamstrings began to fatigue. One of these staircases led us back onto the street. It was an unmarked trail on the map, leading to the three-way intersection of Lynn Valley Road and Dempsey Road.

At the southwest corner was a general store that doubled as a place of respite. Along its outer perimeter were a series of plastic tables and chairs. Initially hesitant, we took to one of the tables anyway. Banh mis were retrieved for lunch while seeking shelter from the showers beyond.

​Biting into my banh mi beckoned a shower of crumbs. The baguette was crunchy, but contained little in terms of filling. Pickled carrots, smooth pâté, and a lonely strand of cilantro filled my Special Dac Biet. Slivers of jalapeno were discovered mid-way through the sandwich; they were tolerable, and I managed to remove its remnants without recoil.

​Surprisingly, I finished the entire sandwich. It was filling, but not overly so, providing fuel to continue hiking. My companion brough fruit to supplement hydration levels, though I was too full after the banh mi and did not pursue the palm-sized apple.

We opted to explore the general store briefly afterwards, discovering souvenirs unique to the destination, adorable socks, and rare bottled variations of Coca-Cola. ​

​Taking to the faded trail map once more, we re-entered onto the Lynn Canyon trails from Rice Lake Road.

The Pipeline Bridge, marked as a point of interest, turned out to be a short overpass running parallel to a raised pipeline traversing over the waterway. The view from above was not as spectacular as that of the Lynn Canyon Suspension Bridge, for obstructions were abundant, shrouding the rushing waters beneath.

​At some point, we rejoined the Baden Powell Trail and encountered the "30 Foot Pool" attraction. It was, of course, empty at this time, with just a handful of other hikers perched for photos.

​Routing back to the other end of the suspension bridge, I checked in to confirm interest in extending our journey to cover the Twin Falls Bridge. At seeing a lukewarm response, we retreated back instead.

​The views had been breathtaking and the hike utterly serene. Similar to the Capilano Suspension Bridge Park, Lynn Canyon can be maintained thoroughly. Excess tree branches had been trimmed away for structural integrity and visibility, grounds were free of litter and garbage, and waters were impressively clear.
British Columbia's elevation had contributed greatly to the varied perspectives along the trail, yet also introduced fear for potentially slippery descents without railings. Though not accessible - nor dry - in any way, the hike had been an overall positive experience.

Read Part 2 HERE !