Early fall 2016, I took this while hiking near the Vermillion River near Sudbury, Ontario, Canada.
I heard the roar of a million leaves. There were tracks in the dirt. I was all alone but I knew that something had been here before me. I walked for hours and all I heard was the wind. Through the trees, I saw a bird soaring through the sky. I thought about death. Could he see me? Could he sense my anticipation?
I kicked my feet up on the banks of a river. On the rocks, I smoked a cigarette. I contemplated the weight of my existence. The river didn’t give a shit about me. There were waves stretching back across time and space. I thought about life. How far can we see? Is there meaning in meaningless things?
We walked about 12 kilometers south from the highway, to find our way into the abandoned Burwash Prison outside of Sudbury, Ontario, Canada.
The prison had been abandoned since the late 1960’s but there was plenty of evidence of recent activity.
For years, people have been coming to this abandoned site to drinks and smoke, to tag the walls and see what they could steal.
Now the hallways are all empty. Littered with the memories of prisoners and vandals.
One man, must have sat in this room. There was a chair near the window surrounded by empty shell casings. Who knows what he could have been shooting at. Empty beer cans and dust lay around the room. The man’s life must have been a mess, but this is where he hung his shirt.
I was hiking along a pole line near Val Caron, Ontario, Canada back in November of 2016. It was one of the first icy cold snowfalls of the year. The wind chill had dropped to below -20C and the clouds let loose a dusting a pearly white snow on the ground.
Baxter and I woke up extra early, just as the sun was rising. We dressed in layers and wrapped ourselves in scarves.
I had just started using my new camera and wanted to try it out on a hike. I wasn’t going to let a bit of cold weather stop me.
The sky was grey and the wind was fierce. We walked for almost 2 hours before turning back. One of the only good shots I took along the way was this close up of a hydro pole. It’s not really a spectacular shot, but I like the detail that the new lens captured. The image is still but there is still life.
Kids, don’t try this at home.
I took this shot from the top of a 200 ft tower crane at about 3 am in downtown Kitchener, Ontario, Canada.
One night, I just did it.
I got dressed in all black, walked the area several times, checking for security or other dirty hobos in the area that might cause a problem. After arguing with myself and almost backing out several times, I found the never, hopped through the fence and found my way to the base of the crane. There was a fence around it and a locked door, I almost turned back but I managed to find a spot where I could climb over the fence and onto the outside of the crane. Then, all I had to do was carefully climb around the corner and onto the platform inside.
At this point, I was already nervous as hell and my legs felt a little bit shaky, I was only maybe 20 feet up and still had a long way to go. I steadied my nerves and started up the first ladder. One rung at a time, I could feel the wind get stronger with every step. I had to shut my mind off and just focus on climbing. By the time I got to the top, I hadn’t noticed how high I’d gotten. I looked down and saw the cars and buildings dwarfed by the height below me. I had a brief flash of vertigo and had to hold onto the railing for a few minutes.
I relaxed. I looked around, took in the view and let go. I walked out onto the back of the crane and felt the wind cool my every pore.
I felt high.
I was high. The adrenaline pumping from my heart to the tips of my arms and my legs. My greatest fear shrunk. I felt alive.
There is a street sign not far from where I live. Its on the corner of Park St and Victoria St near downtown Kitchener, Ontario, Canada. I never really knew this but apparently if you follow Victoria St south and keep going far enough, you’ll find yourself in Los Angeles. Its only a mere 3970 Kilometers away. Keep on trucking, you’re almost there!
It was late into November of 2016. My sister and I decided that we wanted to take a hike to an old, abandoned work prison near Burwash, Ontario, Canada. The prison has been abandoned since the late 60’s and the only things remaining are warning signs and garbage, ghosts and graffiti.
Along our 12 kilometer walk, we had to follow around that passed through an active military base. We could hear guns off in the distance as soldiers practiced their trade. A few times, we even ran into a group of soldiers marching through the woods in full camouflage, rifles in hand.
We also ran into this tree. It was nearly completely covered in wooden plaques. Each plaque had a name engraved onto it. I still don’t know who the names belong to. My only guess could be that it’s the name of soldiers who’ve lost their lives. I read every name on the tree. I didn’t know any of them but their names still cross my mind from time to time.
The biggest nickel that I have ever seen. It is one of only a few landmarks in Sudbury, Ontario, the city that I grew up in. Most of my firsts happened in Sudbury. First friends. First peer pressures. First love. First time having sex. It all happened in this place that most people haven’t even heard of.
Old. Rusty. Abandoned.
The final remnants of CFS Falconbridge in Sudbury, Ontario, Canada.
Once part of NORAD’s line of radar bases for the Canadian Military’s aircraft control and warning system, now nothing more then a few run down buildings on top of a hill.
Growing up as a kid, I’d always been told about how there used to be a radar base in town but it took me until I was 27 to actually go for a hike and check it out for myself. Not much left standing. There’s nothing left but the two structures shown in the picture, another run down shack which looked like an old kitchen and the foundation of where I assume the actual radar once stood.
Nothing left but the ghosts and footprints of times long since past.
I just returned from a road trip back to my home town for a class reunion. This year we are all 60 years old and this reunion was a big birthday party to celebrate our survival this long. However this post is not about that reunion … it’s about a side trip I took while on […]
via A Rose By Any Other Name … — My Life Lived Full