Bay Street Victory Unleashes Apocalyptic Weather On Heatstroked Toronto
Written by: Carly Steven
Toronto broke the 2012 heat record today, hitting 36.4°C at three o’clock. Our apartment is, (un)-naturally, glacial; but outside it’s like you actually have to push the air aside just to move forward.
Emergency cooling stations have opened around the city and Environment Canada is predicting severe thunderstorms, ‘large hail, damaging winds or heavy rainfall’. I’ve just got home from work and I can see through the window the sky is already growing darker.
It was baking hot on Saturday when JM and I attended the 5th Annual Bay Street RFC Ladies Auxiliary Day at Sunnybrook Park in the north of the city. We were guests of Cousin David whose club’s 1st and 2nd XVs were playing the North Simcoe Dingos. I have no idea how they managed to run around for so long – all we did was sit in the shade and we were melting.
The Bay St Pigs have a fantastic pink and green strip complete with stripy socks. Cousin David has pushed team loyalty to its colour-coordinated limit with matching rugby boots. He insists they never practice, yet everyone on the team looks like they live in a gym and they thrashed the Dingos 94-10. And David scored not one but TWO tries.
The muscular theme continued into Sunday when I went to see Magic Mike. I came out of the cinema into a thunderstorm which persevered for most of the afternoon. It was raining so heavily that the Don River we normally run alongside burst its banks and flooded the trail.
The sun shone all day Monday and by the time I went out for a run after work the water covering the path had receded, although the river still looked ominously close to spilling over. With all the half-dried out mud coating the ground and strange, thick stench of rotting vegetation hanging in the air, it felt like I had dropped into prehistory.
The greenery along much of the trail has exploded in recent weeks so that in the heat it can feel a bit like a jungle – especially with all the rustling of small animals and squawking birds. It was completely appropriate then that I should see my loincloth-clad bridge-climber ambling off down a track and disappearing into the thicket.