One should only run away from a landmark or city when they are certain they haven’t already passed it. In this case I had already passed Gaglardi and the route I was on was leading me directly to New Westminster. Which I knew could be an outcome, but hoped otherwise.
The trees were tall and the trail was narrow as a rail. There were several technical spots. Hopping over fallen trees from the recent windstorm was fun the first couple of times. Having to come to a complete stop and step over others that were surrounded by entangled roots was not. I ran through a spider web. One of those webs with the spider in the center. The kind that can only be seen within three inches of crashing through it. I felt bad for the spider as I checked over myself the best I could.
My phone was lost. In fact there is no data for my fourteenth kilometer. I ran the entire time, except that whole root system thing. Which was better traversed at a walking pace. I was back to running right after though. You will just have to take my word for it.
I have tried to retrace my route. To see how much more I ran. My phone seems to have paused, yet I ran a full half which means I must have ran more. However, I can’t even find this trail on all the maps. This is such an exclusive trial that google maps doesn’t even know it exists and I have only seen it on openstreet maps. Basically, I can’t retrace it with my route editor.
It went on for what seemed like forever, I have no idea where I was. I ran through two more big ass, spider inhabited, webs. I scratched my hand on some thorny vine plant thing that would have whacked me in the face otherwise. My left earbud quit working. I almost rolled an ankle. At some point, I just started screaming one continuous eff bomb. I had no idea where I was. I had no idea how many spiders I had on me. I had no idea if that plant was bad news or not, I assumed it wasn’t.
Then all of a sudden, it was over. The trail, which I have dubbed The Crack of Doom had ended. I quit screaming and stepped out of the trees and onto the street. I can’t remember what was to my left, but I think it was the highway. I headed right toward some houses. Which was the first correct turn I had made in about an hour. Two blocks or so after I saw another major road.
It looked familiar. So familiar, that it gave me a sick feeling in my stomach. Something about the trees and concrete barriers. I recognized this road. “No fucking way.” I mumbled as I stepped out onto Columbia street and the voice on my phone said fifteen kilometers. I hadn’t been heading home, I had been heading the exact opposite direction. I was in New Westminster, but at least I knew where I was. I headed north toward the Welcome to Coquitlam sign and hopefully the Central Valley Greenway.