Between Tracks and Trails: A Moment of Rediscovery

 Ennui creeps in when comfort turns into confinement, dulling life’s edges and leaving adventure feeling like a distant horizon. For years, escape seemed to lie in epic races and foreign landscapes, but the pandemic, aging, and shifting realities forced a reckoning: wonder isn’t found in chasing “elsewhere,” but in embracing the ground beneath your feet. The cure for ennui is simple: dig into the familiar and rediscover the wilderness that was never lost—only forgotten. This is the essence of Dig In Where You Stand—an ongoing journey to re-enchant the ordinary and find belonging in the soil of home. That search for adventure—the drive to uncover something new—doesn’t always require distant landscapes or epic journeys. Sometimes, it’s found in the paths we’ve traveled a hundred times, waiting for us to see them with fresh eyes. Just as Canada’s sprawling landscapes hold mythic grandeur, local trails can offer their own kind of magic, revealing stories shaped by time and transformation.

One such place is the Harte Trail, a stretch of abandoned rail bed that has quietly evolved from wilderness to a familiar yet storied path. I can still feel the anticipation building every time I set off on the old, abandoned rail line—now the 6.5-kilometer Harte Trail—a summer ritual that never lost its thrill. When I first started exploring this route, it was little more than a scrub path used by deer, skunks, and a handful of adventurous riders. Back in those days, the trail ahead promised adventure—a journey through landscapes that felt both familiar and wild.

The entire round trip consumed the better part of a day, a satisfying test of endurance on my now classic 1980s Specialized Stump jumper mountain bike. I packed my old MEC backpack with the essentials—sandwiches hastily made that morning, a two-liter pop bottle repurposed to carry water, a few patched-up old tubes, and a miniature hand pump that seemed better suited for triceps workouts than effective tire inflation.

Equipped with my trusty Bell V-Pro helmet, its scuffs and scratches a testament to many journeys, I slipped on my worn Canadian Tire half-finger gloves, the leather soft from years of use. My Shimano touring cycling shoes locked snugly into pedal straps on rattrap pedals, gripping with a firmness that reminded me of the miles I had conquered before.

Each ride was a meditation in motion—a time to lose myself in the rhythm of pedaling, the hum of rubber against gravel, and the chorus of cicadas in the summer heat. The ride back always carried a different energy—a mixture of exhaustion, satisfaction, and the quiet contentment that came from knowing I had once again completed my summer pilgrimage along the Harte Trail.

This scenic multi-use path blends history and nature beautifully. Once part of the Harte Subdivision of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railway, the line was originally constructed in 1907. By 1923, it had been absorbed into the Canadian National Railway, serving as a rail corridor until 1974, when the Prairie Dog Central Railway made its last trip. Thanks to community efforts, the abandoned line was transformed into a public trail, officially designated in 1990 and incorporated into the Trans Canada Trail in 2000.

Beyond the Perimeter Highway, the trail continues as the Headingley Grand Trunk Trail, a scenic 10-kilometer multi-use path that follows the old CN railway bed, stretching all the way to Beaudry Provincial Park. Along this non-motorized route, the landscape shifts seamlessly between prairie, wetlands, and forested ecosystems, offering a journey through Manitoba’s natural beauty.

Over the years, I’ve encountered an incredible variety of wildlife—Bald eagles soaring overhead, hawks scanning the fields, coyotes prowling at dusk, foxes darting through the underbrush, snakes slipping silently through the grass, and families of skunks and deer moving through their habitat. Each sighting has been a reminder of the untamed wilderness that still thrives along these historic trails.

What was once a rugged adventure, a wild ride along an abandoned rail bed cutting through farmers’ fields and prairie forest, has gradually transformed. Over time, development has reshaped it into a smooth urban cycling route, complete with pristine crushed limestone and grass paths, rest stops, bridge crossings, interpretive signage, and even washrooms in Beaudry Provincial Park.

Not too long ago, I found myself making my way along the trail to Beaudry, weighed down by the familiar lull of the doldrums. If I’m honest, I was riding more out of habit than enthusiasm—same old, same old.

If I’ve ridden this trail once, I’ve ridden it thousands of times, and in that familiarity, I had all but grown blind to its quiet beauty and unique character. But every now and then, something—a sudden burst of wind across the fields, the call of a hawk, the rustling of unseen creatures in the brush—reminds me that this place, though changed, it is still a peaceful retreat into nature.

It was my first venture to that side of the perimeter highway since the snow had melted, and I was surprised to see a new structure. After crossing the train tracks just before Headingly, I noticed a dog walker ahead. Slowing my pace, I pulled up beside her and asked if the Ramada—shade shelter—was new. With great energy and enthusiasm, she shared that the adjacent chip trail, play structure, boardwalk, and viewing area were now open to the public, a welcome addition to the trail network. She also urged me to check out the frog-catching nets, adding to the charm of this unexpected discovery. For the next hour, I soaked in the ambiance of this prairie oasis—walking, reflecting, and immersing myself in the symphony of frogs and sun.

This journey—learning to rediscover what is already known—is at the heart of Dig In Where You Stand, proving that adventure isn’t just about where we go, but how deeply we engage with the places we call home. And so, with each ride along the Harte Trail, the rhythm of pedaling becomes a quiet rebellion against complacency, a reminder that the familiar can still hold surprises if we take the time to look.