This post is in memory of Jonathan Chia, October 19, 1992 - May 10, 2013.

He was an explorer, a creator, and a visionary. He was also a friend and a brother to many of us.

May he rest in peace.

- Gregory Liu

Tide Pooling!

Life has been busy and all that but mostly I haven’t had the inclination or had an adventure really worth talking about in super detail. I exaggerate. Most of the things I’ve done have had a pretty good story behind them but all of on the same grain as the Temmy to Emmy post I did so long ago. It’s time for a fresh switch-up of location.

Today I present to you the tide pools of the Pacific Coast. Tide pools are very unique little biomes that are alive with a plethora of different species of animals, all of which are very interesting. Tide pools are unique locations accessible during specific times of day because of high and rising tides. If you ever decide to go tide pooling, be careful! Rogue waves are dangerous. Bring a buddy and always keep an eye on the ocean. It will sneak up on you if you’re not careful and/or aren’t aware of tide times.

In any case, a little while ago my friend and I finally found a good time to head down to the bottom of the peninsula. After an hour or so of driving we arrived at the fine town of Pescadero, and a few miles away we hit the fine lighthouse and hostel at Pigeon Point. The lighthouse has surely seen better days, and it’s a shame that it has gone so long without renovation. Such is the state of our economy… but I digress. Pigeon Point for me is a bit of a nostalgic spot, where I first learned the wonders of tide pools and the majesty of the ocean. That was 7 or 8 years ago now, and more recently when I returned I noticed that it had gotten more tourist-y. The hostel is peaceful (and from what I can remember, a nice place to stay in) and on sunny days you can’t really go wrong at all. My only complaint was that the doors to the public bathrooms had no locks. (Oops!)

In any case, we arrived for the receding tide. After stretching our legs and refreshing ourselves we clambered down to the rocks and so this particular excursion began. It’s amazing how much life there is in each of these tiny pools of water left behind by the receding ocean. Why more people don’t risk their dignity on the slippery kelp covered water is a mystery to me, but the fewer people who attack these sites, the better, I suppose. I say attack pretty specifically because it's hard not to get destructive in a tide pool, even if you know what you're doing. The slippery and the fact that living things are cramming every single nook and cranny on the rocks means that making room for another clumsy human being is going to involve crushing some tide pool denizen.

When I got down to the rocks, initially I was disappointed by the relative deadness of the pools compared to what I remembered from when I was younger but I was soon to find out that we just get less imaginative and observant as we get older. As soon as I got into the mindset of knowing just what to look for the tide pools began to reveal their most vibrant colors and interesting animals to us in short order.

At one point in time I knew every detail a lot of the animals that lived in the tide pools. I was a fanatic... but that information has since escaped my older brain so I can merely delve into how fascinating these creatures are. Of course we all remember those remarkable details about sea star, the strange habits of the hermit crab and the stinging neurotoxic needles of those remarkable cnidarians...

There's a lot to these little wondrous worlds, which is probably why it took us more than an hour to traverse less than 100 yards of rocks and water. It was a bit like a scavenger hunt, but it was mostly look don't touch. As amazing as the tide pool biome is, it is also very very fragile and is suffering in many places along with the rest of the ocean. Sea stars for example are suffering the effects of ocean decalcification and along the East coast in particular are displaying unhealthy mutation related to this issue. As exposed as tide pools are, they are also fragile in the face of human interaction, as we witnessed when we found trash scattered here and there. Yet these animals regularly withstand the pounding of the ocean waves as the tide advances and recedes.

As the sun drew lower in the sky (we had gone for a low tide in the late afternoon) and the tide began to rise again, we climbed away from the rocks and returned to the safe haven of the lighthouse to admire the view. As I (not so eloquently) said, 'It's remarkable that as beautiful and majestic as the ocean is, you also know it's also capable of pounding your ass into the ground without a moment's notice.' Very deep stuff indeed. Feet soaking, we bundled back to the car and appreciated human technology once more as we headed back to the comfort of civilization.

We both noted that living in a house by the seaside was not something we could see in our futures.

Until next time,

Henry the Navigator

PS if you want to see some crappy pictures check out this flickr account...

I couldn't be bothered with the horrible image uploader this time around.

The Temmy To Emmy

I've had this post lined up for a while and I've been far too busy doing other things to actually upload it because it was initially a photo essay. I'm still trying to figure out how to upload them so if this looks like shit you'll know why. 

However, if you're feeling smart you can try to link the images to these on Flickr; but be warned that there are some that aren't on Flickr because they weren't exceptionally exciting on their own.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/root_1/

Hello again, I've been dormant for a while because of recent events in my life. Seeing family off to new parts of the world and having your bike in the shop really stops your exploring activity in its tracks. That's okay, as long as I'm patient I can get back in the game in no time. As the work year comes back into swing, my friends and I decided that a trip into the great beyond would be a great way to round off the summer so we gathered our flashlights, cameras, and collective cajones and headed to one of our all time favorite spots: The Temmy.

The Temmy is a five mile long tunnel that moves from one city to another. One of the original places that inspired us to begin exploring hidden urban locations, it has held untold amounts of wonder for us over the years and that wonder has not waned as my friends and I find it continually reveals new and exciting adventures.

Anyhow, the light levels were not great during this trip but for the better equipped members of our group it yielded better photographs. I however am armed with a Sony DSC-150 Cybershot hand-held point and shoot, the capabilities of which I have pushed to extremes. It still falls short but I will attempt to narrate our journey using only what I was able to see through my own lens.

A half hours’ bike ride and the same time on public transportation brought us to our starting point. For reasons of secrecy, I never take photos of our starts, but we dropped in and I began snapping away immediately. Oh, this tunnel is also the former home of a beloved shopping cart.

Right past the main entrance to the Temmy, we’ve stopped to check our belongings and get out our cameras and flashlights for the road. It’s going to be a long trip into the underground city.

For the first ten minutes, the going was humdrum and routine. After all, we have known this stretch since the beginning of our journeys underground. It’s like seeing an old friend, and in a world of exploration a little familiarity is a rare comfort. Anyways, we passed it quickly.

Then we hit this weird round tributary that got really deep in spots. We never noticed it before and it went for a while until we got a certain spot:

Looks impassable, eh? Well, it was. Way too slippery and steep for anyone without climbing gear to get up. We’ll be back, and you better believe we’ll have something to get up there.

Later on, we came to a one of a series of skylights. These are a refreshing reprieve from the darkness of the tunnels and were a great place to stop and rest for a moment. We journeyed onwards, because the water was far too deep for anyone’s comfort at this point.

This is a closer look at the graffiti on the right side of this particular skylight’s wall. It says “cesil”. As you can see, the water used to be much higher. This is thanks to a dry summer, I guess.

Photos between the skylights didn’t much make sense, especially to a photographer with a camera like mine. The sensor and programming just can’t handle low light, unfortunately.

Did I mention that people walk up there? It gave us the biggest fright when we heard them talking. I guess it must have been worse for them, because we heard a baby start to cry. Was that a baby? I guess when you’re speed wading away from the scene things get confusing.

Anyhow, the repetition can get a bit boring, as we bid one skylight farewell and said hello to another. The only thing breaking the present monotony was the soggy state of our shoes and the increased speed and depth of the water. Oh, and the graffiti is sparse this far down.

I guess only the most dedicated guys come this far. Her head is blocking a ‘Freska’ tag.

The style is changing. No longer round manhole covers, so we must be by a city street now.

He’s going up for a quick look at the city street to get our bearings. We knew pretty well where we were after that. It was a brave move. Those openings are filled with cobwebs and god knows what else but he made it back down alive. Hence, cajones were had on this trip.

Some subterranean bugs. More on underground wildlife later.

This is a little patch of light. I think we’re over two thirds of the way to the end by now.

Here, my friend ‘catches the rays’. My photo-nut friend got a better shot of this, but I’ll use what I have. It was epic, and if I get the money for a better camera someday I am going back.

I’m catching the rays with my camera in this shot. Epic, epic action was had here. I guess I live for these moments: seeing this was enough to justify a 10 minute stop amidst rushing water up to our shins. I guess this was the calm before the storm.

Correction: we have a ways to go before anything horrible starts happening. I guess I’m exaggerating the situation but it gets pretty bad. Life is still good.

Oh wait! Another skylight! This was second to last, and our last chance for a breather.

Chance gladly accepted by all. Off on the last leg of a five mile journey. (Distance estimated)

A chute sloping downwards with fast running water and a passageway in the middle catches our attention! The water was pretty fast, and the floor was slippery. Whoof!

I made it! My friends are already trying to get up there and get our bearings. Many laughs were had, and upper body strength compared. Good fun all around.

The grate revealing a street and the creepiest face known to man appear in the same shot.

You can see the downward slant of the main passage in this picture. The pic turned out surprisingly well but the tunnels to the right and left are too small. I suspect they’re for things a little less sanitary than usual (cough cough) so we decided to leave them be for the time being.

 

Yet another square grate. We’re getting into serious city territory here.

Look familiar? This is the last grate of the trip. As you can see, the shape changes at the end.

HOLY SHIT ANOTHER PERSON. This time we were prepared. Loud screams and insane laughs do the trick… or so we think. This guy however, isn’t too easily spooked. Minutes later, he’s still there. He shifts position to get a better look. Then we got spooked and booked it.

Goodbye Mister Creepy! Thanks for the laughs and mild discomfort. Let’s move on to the last and most harrowing part of this journey. This is where the photography really starts to disintegrate. I think it had something to do with the rising water level. First, a little more underground biology:

That there is a crayfish! It was alive at time of photography. I’d seen a couple others down here too. This guy looks strangely pink. Dr. Manhattan crayfish? I’d like to think so. Anyhow, it’s better than a dead raccoon. Oh yeah, I’ve seen one of those down here before too.

Did I mention someone was wearing Teva’s? That turned out to be a good idea and a bad idea. Anyways, the thought of it took some real bravery because this water isn’t the cleanest in the world and whatever lies buried in the “mud” may be pointy and sharp. So kudos to the only lady on the trip, you are balls-out badass. I felt really bad for you at the end though…

The first of these was taken with water at calf height. It was a reflection of light on rippling on water over a longer exposure time. It looks okay, but only to me. The second was a light being shone into the water because there were little fish (they were kinda cute, okay?) in it and I thought I could get a shot. The water was now up to thigh level and logic was declining quickly. Anyhow, it looks okay really, really small. The water was nearing unbearable level.

The last picture was when water was waist height. What is it even of? At this point I put my camera in my backpack and decided the only thing worth doing was getting out of the freezing cold water. Storm runoff, whatever, I was just past caring at that point. All of a sudden, the water started getting shallower and a faint glow emanated from the end of the tunnel. We made it.

I guess that trip just made us that much closer. This is a journey to be remembered. All those thoughts crossed my head until I realized it smelled awfully like poop. My feet were sinking into the ground. I put my camera away and squelched my way to my friends. We’re all crazy. This smell, on the other hand, wasn’t just enough to make you crazy. It was almost enough to make you pass out. I guess methane has a habit of killing at four parts per million.

Then… we were out. Well, the exit was a little bit more complicated than I anticipated but it was nothing compared to the end of the tunnel. Anyways, it wasn’t so bad and pretty soon we were strolling the streets hungry, exhausted and soaked to the waist. The public fountain was conveniently off in the middle of a hot day so we just hit up someone’s garden hose and left a dollar or two in spare change for the water and the wet drive way. All in all, this was an epic trip.

God damn it public fountain! Why can’t you be on for us? We just ended up using someone's hose and leaving a few dollars and a thank you note.

Next time, we’re bringing an inflatable raft and climbing equipment and I’m bringing a better camera. This ain’t the end of things, ladies and gentlemen. We’re just getting started.


Last note: sorry for the image positioning. It was a bitch to even wrangle into a semblance of order.

The Pain of Disappointment

In every quest, there will be dead ends and disappointments. So it is with this particular adventure, which took place shortly before my friends and I dispersed from the Bay Area for a long, long while. Being disappointed isn't a feature new to urban exploration but I figured that I would tell it because it was so ironic, involved so much prior planning and seemed almost foolproof as an opportunity for adventure from the very beginning.

My day began as most days do, at my desk checking the news and making sure that there weren't any obligations I had to fulfill for the day before I was free to trot about the world. Of course, there weren't and that was when I began an intensive and systematic search for interesting locations with a local watershed map for features that oft attract any urban explorer's attention: parts of canals and waterways where they had been diverted underground for the benefit of real estate and sometimes it seems for people like me. Anyways, after about an hours' search I located a promising site that was relatively near to me in terms of being only across town by a modest 20 minutes' bicycle ride. I prepped my kit and called up a good friend of mine and asked him if he wanted to come. Arrangements were made, and we agreed to meet by public transportation within the hour. Little did I know that our travails were just about to begin.

My friend, who is extremely athletically fit and usually has access to a reasonable source of transportation in the form of a bike, unfortunately had to borrow a younger sibling's bike because... well, his bike simply wasn't there to use. Let's just call my friend Craig. This smaller bike was minuscule.  His knees were bent at 90 degree angles and he was able to do maybe 10 mph on it, whereas we usually ride at about 20 (and thus our journey time was lengthened by 2 times). Another problem was that he was so low that I think it would have been dangerous for him to ride on the road, which we did anyways (but I guess I was there so it was okay). Those concerns aside, we soon were making our slow and steady way to site, located on the outskirts of an huge retirement complex.

As we were going so much more slowly, the journey took us a long while and we nearly ended up getting lost multiple times but never to the point of complete loss because of a handy dandy tool called an iPhone. Speaking of which, I would also like a portable GPS unit but that would be bad for the spirit of adventure, would it not? Anyhow, the retirement home was a gated community (much to our mutual surprise) but we managed to get inside by sneakily riding past the delivery persons' entrance. Once inside, we were constantly harassed by senile drivers who knew less where they were going than how to heckle us. Several hills and a whole bottle of water later, we were nearing the edge of the complex but thirsty as dogs. I guess not all old people are bad because one man approached us and told us we looked like thieves. We asked him where to find water because we were so thirsty and without a second thought he told us. Even if we were thieves I wouldn't have stolen stuff after that... What kind of sick bastard gets any pleasure from stealing from old people?

Lastly, there was the issue of getting out of the complex into the wilderness surrounding the facility. This was only a problem because... the entire thing was surrounded by the most legitimate barbed wire I have ever seen and we were both in shorts, had little equipment (I guess I also need a serious pair of cutters) and were hot and miserable. After about 15 minutes of careful deliberation, we found a decent place to cross over... My friend, who is ninja, made the trip safely but I snagged my knee on a spike so I now have a lovely long line of red on that particular pair of shorts. It was so sharp, however, I didn't feel anything. I also have my tetanus booster so I think I should be okay.

I also found out that I have an immunity to poison ivy on this trip. We tried following the creek bed to the tunnel mouth but it was too densely overgrown... guess with what? Hence we had to get the hell back out of that trench and we just followed it by the side until to our disappointment it vanished rather rapidly, exactly where the tunnel was supposed to be. Scratched, cut, bruised and now a little bit more than pissed we looked around grassed area a while before I kicked something that rather felt like stone... only fixed very solidly in place. It turns out that that was the tunnel entrance we were looking for. With a little more excavation, the 'entrance' showed itself to be a dead end. Stonewalled and decorated with a little plaque commemorating the date of its sealing. Well, fuck.

I guess you can't have everything in life. I always thought that if you fought for it, you could get it. That day, I learned the last third of that lesson: I can only get it if it's still there.

Happy exploring and until next time,

-Jason Jamboozled

The Art of the Urban Gallery

Having returned freshly inspired by an amazing trip in recent history in which I alternately saw the most awesome non-tunnel place I have ever seen (at least this summer, and the competition has been demolished) and sat on a curb waiting for a AAA truck to come rescue me, I came to realize that graffiti, regardless of where you go, graffiti is very much part of the landscape. Even though you think you're exploring a completely fresh place, the chances are very high that you will see some form of human presence in the form of a highly evolved and sophisticated form of Word-Art and even Clip-Art.

If you are a "hater" and cannot stand to see public works intolerably befouled by any form of paint except that which covers the work of others (in a process otherwise known as buffing), I cordially invite you to vacate the premises. If you're not, or are even in doubt about the true nature of what lies behind graffiti, read on. In the world of graffiti art, there are people who are excellent and beyond excellent in the work that they do. However, just as with every area of artistic pursuit, there are people who are terrible, destructive, and befoul places they find with terrible and offensive trash. Unlike other areas of artistic pursuit, however, there does not seem to be a learning curve of any sort: the people who are good at what they do have always been and always will be good at it, and those who aren't will never be.

The main reason behind this is the fact that the artists who create the real masterpieces plan out their next works. Sometimes you find traces of such planning on scraps of paper carelessly left behind at the actual locations, other times you can find evidence of the planning process online. If you see enough of a certain artist's work (which you may if you keep your eyes open), you can even begin to recognize styles and methods. Strip away any bias you may have had against people defacing public property and you might find yourself appreciating that some of these artists are very good or even masterful. In any event, the hardest places to access are where these people like to go... so the chances are that the harder a place is to access, the better the quality of the work you will find.

Those who place little or no effort into the work they do are consign themselves to a different fate. I have no respect and even a little disgust for graffiti drones who plaster their so-called "tags" up in different places ranging from the mirror of public bathroom to the window of a local bus. This trash as I like to think stems from another class of people altogether: the stereotypical street thug who thinks little and works less. The more places this kind of rubbish they can plaster their territorial marking, the better, but in the long run such behavior merely serves the entire graffiti community a bad reputation for trashing things. However, this kind of art is usually the most visible and accessible... so it may be that finding good work and knowing about it is a snobbish activity. Perhaps, but snobs don't usually get dirty in pursuit of art.

Anyways, this is just my two cents on the topic of graffiti. Being an accolyte, or a relative accolyte, I am quite sure there is much more I have yet to discover or become aware of. In any case, you're bound to find graffiti wherever you explore... so meditate on that.

On that note, I'm signing off.

I promise a real story of swashbuckling adventure... soon.

Until next time!

Tunneling: the barebone basics

Every explorer has a basic equipment outfit; exploring tunnels and abandoned places is no exception. Although safety officials would have you believe that exploring tunnels is basically a sure fire way of killing yourself, tunnel exploring with a good bit of common sense can actually be a relatively safe, cheerful, and even exhilarating experience. Hence, the most important tool to bring with you is common sense and a good head upon your shoulders. If you don't think you fulfill those requirements, grow up then come back.

When exploring the unknown and more specifically tunnels, the inherent risks of exploration are all there: no one is watching your back, you don't know who you might meet, there are obstacles and hazards you cannot see or simply don't notice... these things are all dangers. Some of them might kill you, others will just give you a really bad shock. Keeping your head on your shoulders and your mind in the clear is the best decision in most of these situations. When you hear horrific stories of people dying while exploring new places, don't panic. Thousands of people die every year in traffic accidents but I would be willing to bet most people drive without the weight of that fear on their shoulders. With that disclaimer behind me, I think I can write safely without anyone getting too angry if they are dumb enough to simply recognize danger and avoid it.

I suppose you'd like a list of what I bring when delving into the underworld. Here it goes, the long and tedious equipment list:

• Knee height rain boots
• Two flashlights (one main, one backup) -headlamps worked fine until I lost mine
• Jacket
• Camera
• ID (important for the authorities)
• Friends (at least one)
• A means of protecting myself
• A hat
• Patience, common sense, and a watchful eye
• A way of getting around (bike, you name it... walking is good too)
• Gloves
• A tolerance for awful smells and squishy things under my feet...

What I would like to bring, but don't yet have:

• A camera tripod (because most of these spots take better photos with longer exposure times)

I guess I should explain some of the more unknown aspects of this list. Two flashlights? Common sense should provide for that: if one breaks or runs out of batteries, you aren't stuck in the dark... unless you have night vision. ID? For those times when you just get caught: you want proof that you are a real person, especially if you live in Arizona and look vaguely Hispanic. Protection? Sometimes you'll meet bad guys. Don't worry, it doesn't happen often. Actually, it has never happened to me. You can't go wrong here... I have met people who brought a gun with them. I draw the line at pepper spray and a box cutter. Patience? Sometimes, finding places can get pretty frustrating, especially if you live in the boonies. Don't despair! There are always good places to explore. Just keep an eye out and you will be rewarded. Gloves and a tolerance for awful smells and unknown substances? Sometimes you can't be too picky about where your feet and hands go...

On that note, I'm signing off.

Until next time!

Welcome to the Tunnel Blog

Hello, and welcome to The Tunnel Blog, a blog of exploration, adventure, danger and discovery. Why "The Tunnel Blog"? Tunnels represent the glories of exploration and adventure in a world that is increasingly overexposed to the cameras and eyes of unsatisfied onlookers. Exploring tunnels is a way in which we attempt to escape that dreary monotony into a world traveled by few and desired by many.

Exploration is the game we dreamed of all our childhoods and at last we have an opportunity to tell you of our exploits and misadventures. If you're wondering where I'm going with this, wonder no more: this is a chronicle of urban adventures with all the details save the location, because finding these spots and discovering them for yourself is an experience we will not take away from you.

Lastly, I will update this whenever we have a trip or when I discover something worth exploring. Urban exploration is the last frontier that requires only your eyes, feet, and a flashlight, and I intend to expose you to the wonders of this new world. I leave you with this:














Welcome to a new world.