Neo, sooner or later you’re going to realize, just as I did, that there’s a difference between knowing the path and walking the path,” Morpheus said in 1999’s blockbuster “The Matrix.”
When it comes to Duluth’s Lakewalk, often the reverse is true. We may have walked this path many times without really knowing it. This might come from rushing through or just walking on one section over and over again.  
Let us attempt to grasp a bit of this trail’s wonders, visiting some key waypoints. But remember, no one can be told what the Lakewalk is—you have to see it for yourself.
Standing by the water on a warm summer day, you note that the Lakewalk really begins at the canal. The maps show it starting further back by the harbor, but the crucial ingredients of “lake” and “walk” start at the canal. Here, incoming waves from the infinity of Lake Superior are free to dash the rocks, unblocked by sandbars and breakers. In this epicenter of Duluth tourism, horns from thousand-foot ships literally shake the ground.
You start up the walk, the lake on your right and hotels on your left. For the first time you carefully read the plaques on the side. You may learn the history of “The Cribs,” the stone structure many dive from.
Then, a vast field of multicolored pebbles spreads toward the lake. All of Duluth’s high-rises are in view. With binoculars, you might see the peregrine falcons on top of the gold-colored Greysolon hotel.
After the walk turns a corner, you stop at the twin war memorials—solemn reminders on this scenic path.  
Further down the path, the smell of microbrewing and cooking drifts down to the base of a great stone wall. The stairs rise to the shops, food, and beer of Fitger’s.  
Half a mile later, the path spreads out. Leif Erickson Park’s large, well-trimmed lawn slopes down to a castle-like amphitheater. Summer spectators will see concerts, the lake, and ships simultaneously.  
Behind the stage, you descend on steps to the shore. You can walk this rocky beach beneath jagged cliffs to the mouth of the Chester River, when the water level permits.  
Continuing, stairs lead to the rose garden above. A quick right at the top of the stairs leads past the flowers and ends at a steel fence.
Below, the Chester River crashes down from a massive tunnel and passes under the Lakewalk. Through the trees you can just make out where the lake swallows up the Chester.
Descending the stairs to better view the river’s mouth, you encounter paths leading to either side of the river. Welcome to the reel world, where anglers fish by the river’s mouth, surrounded by walls of dark rock.
A third of a mile further down, the walk is another set of stairs. There is large, smooth, brown rock, perfect for lying with eyes closed and ears opened to crashing waves.
Then, a parking lot seems to say, “This is the end,” which many assume with no signs to tell you differently. But keep walking: here the Lakewalk briefly becomes the Condo Walk.    
After a block or two, the familiar blue-striped road reappears on the left. If you are biking, you have to take this path. The walker can return to the lake sooner by making a right on 23rd. After reaching the water’s edge, you finally see a sign for this super-secret section of the Lakewalk that reads, “Warning: Minimum maintenance pedestrian trail. Use at your own risk. No Bikes.” Despite this ominous warning, this gravel stretch is great for walking and merges with the paved section.  
Then there are more trees and fewer people. About fifty feet from the overpass leading to Perkins is a path to the right. This leads to a long, isolated section of flat brown shore rocks, stubbornly resisting waves and vegetation. With the lake on one side and a thick layer of trees on the other, this area is easily as nice as Brighton Beach with many fewer people.
A little further up, the Lakewalk splits in two. The left branch continues far into the Lakeside neighborhood. The real lake walk continues to the right until it merges with the London Road sidewalk, where it becomes the Mansion Walk.