The Day We Turned Ourselves In

About 10 kilometers south of Hwy 69, on the outskirts of Sudbury lies an abandoned building that’s been vacant for nearly 40 years. Barely anything remains except for the shell of a an old prison that once housed anywhere from a 100 to over 800 inmates throughout its history.

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The view across the snow-dusted field, as we walked around the No Trespassing and Private Property signs.

As a professional hobo, the thought of going in and exploring an abandoned prison is irresistible. To see old cells and hallways, haunted by the ghosts of the men who once called this place their home, was something that once I set my mind on, I knew I had to do.

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Dozens of empty rooms echo with our voices and footsteps.

We came upon it after walking for about 3 hours and the sight of such a big building in the middle of nowhere was almost as freaky as the thought of running into other hobos inside the building. (Helpful Hints: Always be prepared to encounter stabbin’ hobos when entering vacant buildings) It could have the potential to be a hobo haven, but the heeby-jeebies and the fact that the lands owner doesn’t like hobos or vagabonds wandering around make not the most desirable place for a hobo to call home.

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There was some signs of prior hobo use, not to mention the graffiti on almost every wall in the entire building. There were areas where people had swept out and cleared enough debris to make a fire and possibly set up tents to camp out. But most of the rooms were littered with debris from the crumbling ceilings and in some areas, I even questioned the stability of the floor I was standing on.

We found a nice room with a view to stop and have our sammiches and hot chocolate.

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The prettiest puppy!

The creepiest part of the entire adventure was the room we found with signs of recent use. On one of the upper floors, at the end of a hallway was one room where someone had hung an old dirty t-shirt as if to keep some sense of cleanliness in an utterly dirty and decrepit building. In the same room, we found a recliner chair where someone sat and presumably shot their guns. (Was it a coincidence that it was pointed towards the road coming in?)

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Where he kept his shirt.
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Where he shot his guns.

 

We explored for about an hour, walking down every hallway we could find. We made our way into the basement, checked out the boiler room where they generated their power, and then circled the building one last time before heading back on the hobo trail.

 

We came. We saw. We left nothing but of our vibes and our time.

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Let us away!

 

 

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