Vancouver Magazine
Care to travel the world, one plate at time? Visit Kamloops.
Flaky, Fluffy and Freaking Delicious: Vancouver’s Top Fry Bread and Bannock
The Best Gelato in Canada Was Made in a Hotel Room (and You Can Get it Now in Kitsilano)
Wine Collab of the Week: The Best Bottle to Welcome a Vancouver Spring
Naked Malt Blended Malt Scotch Whisky Celebrates Versatility and Spirit
A $13 Wine You Can Age in Your Cellar
5 Things to Do in Vancouver This Week (March 20-26)
5 Things to Do in Vancouver This Week (March 13-19)
Looking for a Hobby? Here’s 8 Places in Vancouver You Can Pick Up a New Skill
What It’s Like to Get Lost on a Run With a Pro Trail Runner
8 Things to Do in Abbotsford (Even If It’s Pouring Rain)
Explore the Rockies by Rail with Rocky Mountaineer
4 Fashion Designers From African Fashion Week Vancouver to Put on Your Radar
The Future of Beauty: How One Medical Aesthetics Clinic is Changing the Game
Before Hibernation Season Ends: A Round-Up of the Coziest Shopping Picks
It's time to accept that the Seawall isn't wide enough for all of us.
We all know that Vancouver is a comically expensive place to live, but on a day like last Saturday, it feels worth every penny. The real estate prices and rents are really just a tax we pay to get access to postcard-perfect spring views. (Sailboats and snow-capped mountains? Are you kidding me?!)
When the sun comes out, that giddy I-can’t-believe-we-get-to-live-here feeling draws most bike-riding Vancouverites to the Seawall, the ideal place to soak it all in. Normally, there’s a feeling of camaraderie among the strollers, rollerbladers, bikers and runners sharing the pathway, but in these strange social-distancing times, it’s now a veritable human obstacle course.
So what’s a pandemic-fearing cyclist to do? Where do we turn for a beautiful ride that we don’t have to share? Where we can pedal without fear of cross-contamination?
Here’s where: the Seymour Valley Trailway.
Yes, technically this route is in North Van, but are you trying to tell me you don’t have the time right now for a little 20 minute car ride?
I’m sure there’s some important research-related reason this 12km paved pathway snakes through the Lower Seymour Conservation Reserve, but to figure it out would take precious time away from doing this beaut of a ride. Closed to cars, cyclists only have to worry about dodging each other (and the odd shirtless crossblader) on the winding road through the coastal rainforest. Trickling creeks! Woodpeckers! Crisp, forest-fresh air! A heady soundtrack of chirping birds and whizzing tires! It’s downright magical.
There are a few tougher inclines sprinkled throughout, but the breezy downhill portions are thrilling enough to balance it out. I’m a fairly new cyclist and a fair-weather commuter, so if I can handle it, you can. I recommend parking at Capilano University’s campus just a few kilometres south (don’t forget to pay for parking!), unload your bike and pedal away from your pandemic woes.
This story was originally published on May 12, 2020.