I wouldn't ever tell you if I ever got lost. I'm sometimes too proud of my geography skills to admit when I don't know where I'm going. 99% of the time I have the right sense of direction and find myself at the other end, sometimes even ahead of schedule. But this time, you could probably say that I was a little bit lost, but not "lost" lost. My archaeology class was meeting up at Fort York that afternoon. Getting to the location via public transit was a breeze and I knew the route even though I had never actually taken it before. As soon as I stepped off the streetcar, though, that was when the head scratching began. The place clearly changed a lot since the last time I had been there, and on those times I had come in a car or a bus with my parents or my (elementary) school. On top of that, a howling gale was whipping at me so hard that I was being blown to the side and could barely keep my head up to see where I was going. There was a long, brown buil...