Toronto has a hidden staircase network — public stairs climbing the old Lake Iroquois shoreline escarpment and the ravine edges that most people drive past without realizing they could walk up. Baldwin Steps near Casa Loma (110 steps up the ancient lakeshore), Glen Stewart Ravine stairs in the Beach, and the Davenport escarpment paths each offer elevation gain and a view that most of the city doesn't know exists.
Neighbourhood: Davenport / The Beach / Scarborough · Address: Baldwin Steps: Spadina Rd & Davenport. Glen Stewart: Kingston Rd at Glen Stewart Ave · Hours: Public stairs — accessible year-round. Ice warning in winter. · Price Range: Free
The hidden staircases cut dramatically through ravines and up ancient escarpments, letting you climb Toronto’s prehistory with every step. You’ll get unexpected city views, quick cardio, and glimpses of wildflowers or forest—often only minutes from a main street.
Unlike most urban stairs, these follow the actual edges of Lake Iroquois's glacial shoreline and stand apart for their scale—Baldwin Steps alone climb 30 metres straight up. You’re also walking through small, rugged woodlands right inside the city, which is rare for Toronto infrastructure.
One of the weirdly great things about Toronto is how good it is at hiding its own shape. If you mostly know the city from a car window, a streetcar, or the usual flat-feeling stretches of downtown and midtown, you can go a long time without really clocking how much elevation is in the city. Then you stumble onto one of the public staircases, and the whole map changes in your head. Suddenly Toronto isn’t just streets and condos and corner stores anymore. It’s ravines, escarpments, old shorelines, and long climbs that connect one layer of the city to another.
The Baldwin Steps are the easiest place to get your bearings. They sit at Spadina and Davenport, just a straightforward walk east from Dupont Station, and they run up 110 steps from the lower city to Davenport Road. That doesn’t sound especially dramatic on paper, but once you’re actually on them, you feel the grade right away. They rise in a clean, direct line, and they’re steep enough that people start doing that very Toronto thing where they slow down halfway, look around like they’re appreciating the view, and are definitely also catching their breath. There’s no shame in it. I’ve done the same thing. At the top, the whole point becomes obvious: you turn around and suddenly the city drops away south of you, with a clear sightline toward downtown and, on a good day, the lake.
What makes the Baldwin Steps especially satisfying is that the payoff doesn’t feel staged. You’re not arriving at a big attraction with signs and gift shops and an obvious “photo spot.” You’re walking up from a normal residential area, passing houses, front gardens, parked bikes, and people just living their lives, then you get to the top and realize you’re standing on a major piece of Toronto’s geography. Davenport Road follows the old shoreline of glacial Lake Iroquois, so the climb isn’t just exercise; it’s a short walk through the city’s geological memory. That sounds grander than the actual experience, which is part of the charm. Toronto doesn’t usually announce these things. It makes you notice them by accident.
The atmosphere changes depending on when you go. Early mornings are calm and a little sleepy, with dog walkers and runners using the steps as part of their regular loop. Midday can feel brisk and practical, especially when people are moving between neighbourhood errands or squeezing in a quick workout. Late afternoon is probably the nicest time if you want the best light and the most satisfying view. The south-facing outlook is clearer, and the city seems to spread out below you in layers. At sunset, it can be very good, especially in cooler months when the air is crisp and the skyline gets that sharp, clean edge. At night, it’s quieter and more local-feeling, though I’d only do it if you’re comfortable with the area and you’ve got decent lighting.
On the east side, the Glen Stewart Ravine stairs in the Beach feel like a completely different world, even though they’re doing the same basic job. You get there from Kingston Road at Glen Stewart Avenue, and the whole route feels softer, more wooded, and less exposed than Baldwin. Instead of the open, urban climb and the clean reveal at the top, you’re moving through trees, damp earth, and a little pocket of ravine that changes with the seasons in a very obvious way. In spring, the ground smells like thawing soil and old leaves, and you get wildflowers pushing through in a way that makes the city feel almost embarrassed about how much nature it’s been hiding. In summer, the shade is a relief, and the stairs become part of the daily rhythm for people walking dogs, pushing strollers, or trying to get from one side of the neighbourhood to the other without taking the long road around. In fall, it gets almost ridiculous in the best way, with colour everywhere and light filtering through the trees in those flattering, golden bursts photographers love.
The neighbourhood context matters a lot here, because these staircases aren’t separate attractions floating above Toronto. They’re woven into the city’s daily movement. Around Baldwin, you’re on the edge of Casa Loma country, Annex-adjacent streets, old houses, and a part of town where the slope is impossible to ignore once you start looking for it. Davenport has that slightly elevated, older-city feel, with the road tracing a line that tells you exactly where the ancient shoreline sat. On the Beach side, Glen Stewart feels more residential and local, with Kingston Road activity nearby and the ravine acting like a green cut through the neighbourhood fabric. You’re not showing up to “see a staircase” in the abstract. You’re seeing how Torontonians actually move through land that was never meant to be flat.
That’s also what makes these stair routes different from the more obvious tourist stops. There’s no crowd control, no admission line, no big interpretive display telling you what to feel. The interest comes from the way these stairs connect ordinary life to the city’s topography. People use them for exercise, sure, but also for commuting, dog walking, running errands, and taking a shortcut that happens to be scenic. They’re functional first. That’s the appeal. Toronto has plenty of polished attractions, but these routes feel like the city in its everyday mode: a little improvised, a little hidden in plain sight, and much more interesting once you’re on foot.
If you’re planning to visit, the practical advice is pretty simple. Wear proper shoes. Not “cute enough for the photo” shoes. Actual shoes you can climb in, because the Baldwin Steps especially can be steeper and slicker than they look. In winter, they can get icy fast, and I wouldn’t recommend trying to be heroic about it. Spring and fall are the best seasons overall, both because the weather is kinder and because the surroundings are at their best. If you want the clearest, most rewarding view from Baldwin, aim for a dry day with decent visibility. If you want the most atmosphere at Glen Stewart, go after a rain or on a cool morning when the ravine smells fresh and the tree cover feels especially green.
The honest reality is that these aren’t secret in the way people sometimes want secret things to be. Locals know about them, and people who live nearby use them all the time. What they’re not is crowded in the way Toronto’s major landmarks are crowded. You probably won’t be fighting through tour groups or waiting in line, and that’s part of why they’re so pleasant. Still, if you go at peak weekend hours on a beautiful day, expect company. You’ll see runners doing repeats, families taking a stroll, photo shoots, and plenty of people pausing at the top just long enough to pretend they’re not surprised by the climb. That’s normal. The best strategy is to go a little earlier or later than the obvious rush, bring water if you’re planning to string together more than one route, and treat the stairs as part of a longer walk through the neighbourhood rather than a standalone box to tick.
If you’re the kind of visitor who likes seeing how a city actually works, this is one of the best ways to understand Toronto. You get the exercise, the view, and the odd little thrill of realizing you’ve been walking through geology the whole time. Baldwin gives you the big, clear reveal. Glen Stewart gives you shade, quiet, and a more intimate kind of climb. The escarpment paths tie it together and make the city feel larger, older, and more textured than it first appears. Once you notice them, you start seeing slopes everywhere, and Toronto stops feeling flat at all.
The Baldwin Steps are a public staircase of approximately 110 steps climbing the Lake Iroquois shoreline escarpment at Spadina Road and Davenport in the Annex/Casa Loma neighbourhood. They follow the ancient beach ridge of glacial Lake Iroquois (which stood about 20 metres higher than modern Lake Ontario) and connect the lower Annex with the Casa Loma escarpment.
The publicly maintained staircases — Baldwin Steps, Glen Stewart Ravine stairs — are safe for regular use. Some informal escarpment paths are unlit and unmaintained — daylight visits are recommended. Use caution in winter when ice can form on exposed steps. The Scarborough Bluffs informal stairs are particularly prone to erosion — stick to designated paths.
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