We woke around 10am. I wanted some granola bars. We had none in the car. We found a wal-mart, closed for Canada day. A couple different grocery stores, closed for Canada day. “Well fuck the food, I need some batteries.” Canadian Tire? Closed for Canada day. Shit. We met up with HI-LITE again for some draining. Out in suburbia we sat on the grass and waited for Archer. A bit later we were lifting up the grill on a big concrete pipe and heading into the darkness. This drain was adequately entertaining with a few changes from concrete to corrugated metal and a pair of elevation changes in the form of stairs. We sloshed around for a couple hours. The Canadian crew queried about my new light which I had picked up from Lowe’s a few days earlier. It was small but bright as fuck and all for around $20.
From this drain we split from the Canadians and went and tracked down a famous part of Toronto underground known as Gargantua. On the advice of a Brit who had visited some time back we found a manhole in the middle of a grass lot and down we went. It was a long walk before the twin box tunnels, of which I had seen plenty already, opened up into a rather large circular tunnel. For a pure storm drain this tunnel certainly lives up to its name. This was like treading down the Hollywood walk of fame of the drainer’s world. Many a respected elder drainer had tread this same curved concrete. It was a hall of greatness.
After crawling back out of the ground and replacing the heavy steel lid we got back in the car and at last found an open pharmacy. I sat in the car sipping chocolate milk and smearing peanut butter on bread with an old credit card. This was shaping up to be a pretty good day. We drove back to the waterfront and the heavy pedestrian traffic that was already building made getting a parking spot take some time. But we found a nice, free spot, and started eyeing spots from which to watch the impending fireworks. The crowds were quite orderly, all the men had their shirts on, nobody looked drunk. These Canadians clearly didn’t know how to celebrate their patriotism. I was convinced the riots of a few days prior must have been incited by my own countrymen.
The Malt was surrounded by people. We hopped the fence out of view but couldn’t find a way in that wouldn’t get us seen by less than twenty of them. We went back over the fence and kept walking. We found a crane. Posted on the fence around the site were big signs. “Beware, Attack Dogs on Site.” Laughable. Guard dogs are illegal in most American states and I wagered the Canadians would have similar rules. A few bangs on the fence and some shouting fortified my assumption. When such things are declared so loudly, “Warning, area under surveillance” They are almost always total lies. Real cameras and real dogs speak for themselves, cheap signs are a dead giveaway that no other security exists and only serves as a joke to explorers and the less moral types. We made it up the crane just in time to catch the fireworks. Though farther away than the Malt would have been it was still a good vantage point and I always like it better a few stories up anyway.
Red run is a big motherfuckin drain that sits a few miles outside of Detroit. You could line up three greyhound busses next to each other and drive them into the outfall. They wouldn’t go far, as the single space soon splits into several separate tunnels, but they’d definitely get all the way in. This was our destination post MCS. Staring at the massive outfall I knew right away that I wouldn’t see the whole thing today. The amount of mileage this drain would have to cover to add up to this amount of volume at the end was too much for us to cover by foot in a whole day.
Continue reading »
This drain delivers. We climbed down a hill and started getting shit ready at the mouth of the twin reinforced concrete boxes of the outfall. I lit my lantern and changed into shorts and sandals and we headed in. The bright daylight quickly disappeared as we ventured further and I could just make out the light from a manhole far ahead. After a while we came to a shape change, the 12 foot high by 8 feet wide box tunnel we were in was shrinking down to a 9 foot high horseshoe shaped conduit.
Continue reading »
After making sure I had all my gear together I opened the car door and stepped out into the 5 degree air. Knowing I looked a bit odd in my hip-high rubber boots and climbing harness I looked over my shoulder for bystanders as I crossed the street and ducked into the woods. Once I got to the edge of the floodwall of a large creek I tied my rope around a tree, clipped it in, and rappelled over the edge of the wall and into the largest circular outfall I have yet explored.
Continue reading »
Not wanting to have nothing to show for my three week stay in Naptown I opted for the path of further exhaustion. After parking the car I peeled off my steel toe work boots and tugged on a pair of borrowed waders.
Continue reading »
I pulled into a small city in East Tennessee at about 8pm after about 8 hours of driving. This place was the stomping grounds of the ever traveling and enthusiastic explorer and occasional cross-dresser known as DJ Craig. I was there to meet up with him and other UER patrons BounceWiggle, and Aurelie. We soon set out to check out a drain I had heard about and wanted to see myself.
Continue reading »
I was sitting on my couch, going through all my stuff that I had just gotten back from police evidence storage, when I got a text from DJ Craig. He and a few others were in town and planning to hit up a local drain that I hadn’t had the chance to see yet and he invited me to join them. I decided that the best thing to do now that I had just got out of court was to start trespassing again.
Continue reading »
After being disappointed at the low number of available cranes the night before, due mostly to the fact that most of the jobsites were being worked on well into the early morning hours of Saturday, I awoke Saturday afternoon in my car. My gracious host had to work so I wandered the city for a while until I noticed a grate near the abandoned condos that went pretty far down to where water was flowing. After some brief searching I found a manhole in a nearby parking lot marked “storm sewer.” Oh, its on son, and they said Charlotte had no explorable drains. I looked around and see nobody nearby I tried to lift the manhole lid open with my fingers. No go. So I fashioned a makeshift manhole key out of some string and some nails I found lying around. The manhole came off to reveal a nice little 4’ box drain. As I climbed down into the drain with a ton of cars driving by I hoped upon hope that none of the drivers looked left.
As I crouch-walked downstream the tunnel turned this way and that, opened up into a 6’ RCP for a while, twisted around some more, turned back into a 5’ box, then opened up into a nice 8’ tall box with a bunch of short, steep grades. All the while this drain had a noticeable grade to it. I managed to get down the first steep drop by walking on a patch of dry concrete. When I came upon the second drop I knew it was going to be a problem. It had to have been about a 8 foot drop at, at least, a 45 degree angled and had tons of water going over it. I took off my pack and sat down, putting my fragile camera gear in my lap. “here goes nothing” I thought and pushed off. I slid down and hit the bottom, hard, but nonetheless survived along with my gear. From here it was another 200 yards to the outfall of this cool little drain which I have named, pending anyone else’s claim to have found it before me, “Charlotte Slide.”
