One Book: Urban Exploration

“There are a couple of boarded-up houses on Elm Street, just near Bay,” said Bridget. She came over sat on the bed beside her mother. Marianne covered her daughter’s hand with her own. “He got permission from the city to go into one of them. The windows were covered in wood, but he had a flashlight. There was still carpet inside, and wallpaper on the walls — this embossed wallpaper with flowers. Dark squares where people had hung pictures.”

– from Consolation, by Michael Redhill, page 444

Toronto is a hotbed for urban exploration. Infiltration, “the zine about going places you’re not supposed to go,” was the brainchild of a Torontonian, the late Jeff Chapman (a.k.a Ninjalicious). There are presently 86 locations listed in our city’s thread of the Urban Exploration Resource (UER) database, including the Canada Linseed Oil Mills building near Dundas and Roncesvalles, the ruins of Christ Church St. James in Little Italy, and the Old Don Jail. Most locations have multiple picture galleries, which are uploaded by the site’s many registered users. While some images (those of the jail, for example) were collected during Doors Open Toronto or other such legitimate tours and events, many were taken without permission or invitation, by ordinary people with extrordinary nerve and an unquenchable thirst for a sneak peek behind the boarded-up windows of our built history.

Abandoned structures are probably best described as public space grey areas, but unfettered access to these locations is a pretty black-and-white issue, depending on who you ask. For many exploration advocates, houses are a grey area within a grey area; they’re more personal, more private than a dilapidated factory or an underground drainage system. But when I read in Consolation about the character David Hollis traipsing (though with permission) through an old house at Bay and Elm streets, I became determined to take a look for myself.

When I was a kid, living in Gravenhurst, Ontario, there was this abandoned, unfinished mansion near the loading dock of the Segwun steamship. I used to stare with fascination at the structure while I fished for rock bass and sunfish off the public wharf. The story I heard (from dubious sources — namely, other nine-year-olds) was that the guy who started building it ran out of money, and then his wife left him, and then he disappeared. One day, I visited the place. Or maybe I just dreamed I did. Anyway, I remember a big staircase, a (chipped and water-damaged) mosaic tile hallway, and a chandelier. (I was later reminded of the house when I first saw the video for the Meat Loaf song “I’d Do Anything for Love (But I Won’t Do That).”) I also remember a mattress on the floor. I was too scared to go up the stairs, in case I met the owner of said mattress, and I’ve been a reluctant urban explorer ever since.

My best friend, Brandon, and I decided to visit the Elm Street houses together. Brandon’s a writer and photographer, and a far more active explorer than me; he’s contributed several galleries to the UER database. When we’re together, our collective confidence increases exponentially — a key factor in any successful exploration. We also had that other key factor, our cover story, down: if anyone asked, we would tell them that the hospital that owns the house gave us permission to survey it for an article we’re writing in conjunction with this whole Keep Toronto Reading thing. So, in other words, we were going to tell the truth…almost.

I don’t do many things in my life that need cover stories. But it seems that some people don’t like urban explorers. The TTC sure doesn’t. When Sean Lerner created his TTC Subway Rider Efficiency Guide, he approached the commission about launching his initiative through “demonstrations” on subway platforms. They said no — partly, Lerner told Eye Weekly, because his site contained a link to Infiltration. I assume the TTC’s top urban-exploration crime is to jump onto the tracks at Museum station and make the run to Bay Lower. My wife and I went there, once, but we took the easy route: we pushed on a locked door, and found out it wasn’t as locked as it was supposed to be. They’ve since reinforced those doors — the ones surrounded by light-green tiles on the Bay (Upper) platform. I guess we weren’t the only people pushing.

Brandon and I weren’t sure how secure the Elm Street houses were going to be, but we were determined to see inside — without actually breaking in, if possible. My imagination was running rampant at the treasures I might find; according to a pushpin on Google Earth, none other than Tom Thomson once lived at 54 Elm Street, right at the corner of Bay. When I read this, I thought to myself: “What a scoop!” I was ready to walk into the house and see peeling wallpaper featuring the exact colour palette of The West Wind.

We stashed our excess stuff in a locker at the bus station, then walked up to Elm to case the joint. I simultaneously imagined David Hollis (Consolation‘s patriarch) with his daughter Bridget approaching the house, and Thomson exiting his front door and heading down the street to the Arts and Letters Club to have drinks with Lawren Harris. I felt inside my man-purse. Yes, all five flashlights were still there. I was beyond ready. But sadly, and I’ll not invoke Joni here (though I guess I just did), we discovered that 54 Elm Street was razed in favour of a parking lot.

Deflated, Brandon and I looked across the street. Old houses! Were they abandoned? No, it didn’t seem so. The curtains were new-ish. (Besides, there were curtains.) We went around back and he took some pictures anyway, the best of which leads off this post. As urban exploration stories go, this is without question the lamest one in history. But the fact that we arrived too late — by a few years, it would seem — nicely illustrates the importance of the work that UER members and their peers are doing. It also explains why exploration flourishes in Toronto: we know all too well that we’d better take a look inside an old building when we can, because soon enough it will be gone.

Photos by Brandon T-H