The Bruce Trail - One Year Later

The Bruce Trail

One Year Later

October 31^st, 2010 marks one full year since I completed the 880km journey up the Bruce Trail from Queenston, to Tobermory, Ontario.

Reflecting back on the trip, it was the most challenging and beautiful trips I have ever taken. Wrought with danger, peril, and harsh conditions the Bruce Trail left it's mark on my life more than I could have imagined.

During the four month journey I met some really great people, including a couple of other end-to-enders as well as some questionable folks whose motive was not quite clear.

As the summer rain beat down on my head, and my feet beat down on the trails, I fell in love with the giant moss covered rocks, the sheer cliffs, and beautiful scenery of the trail.

The trip would not have been possible without my friends. They were the ones who provided unfettering support and countless rides to and from trail locations in some of the worst summer weather we've had in decades.

Learning first hand about the poor camping conditions of the Bruce Trail, I would never recommend anyone attempt a thru-hike of the trail. I can advise you this the trail is not designed for more than simple 15-20km day hikes. The Bruce Trail Conservancy will concur.

Above all else I proved that modern people can walk barefoot hundreds and hundreds of kilometres without the perceived injuries and certain death as touted by the narrow minded. I received quite a lot of media attention through the hike, as well as some interviews which were a lot of fun.

The Bruce Trail experience left a deep mark on my psyche which I don't think will ever go away. Each time I do short day hikes on the trail, I still remember when it was just myself and my husky Luka. I frequently find myself talking to people about the experiences on the trail. Although not the longest or most difficult trip, the Bruce Trail experience seems to dominate my thoughts.

The question I am asked frequently is “what's next?” The answer is I am currently working on a college diploma with an outdoor education focus, and will hopefully get some more long distance travel in during the summer months.

Creating a Primitive Bowl

Creating a Primitive Bowl

The article below shows us how to create a primitive bowl using fire, a knife, and a piece of deadfall log. The article is illustrated with photographs. This project is designed to be reproducible in a survival situation. This project is also part of Wolfmaan's primitive living and survival course.

The first part of the project is to find a piece of deadfall log. You are seeking a log without too many splits in it, as the bowl may need to hold water in the future. Choose a log that is oval shaped if possible, and fairly short. If necessary, you can use your knife to saw through the log and cut it to it's desired length.

You want to ensure use of a deadfall log as a live log will not properly burn and the project will take days instead of just a few hours.

[select a deadfall log]

Next, select the spot on your log which will be the actual bowl. Inspect your log carefully to ensure you use the “worst” side. Small splits, cracks, or other imperfections are okay as they will be burned away.

Take your knife and chip away a small spot in the surface of the log. This will hold your embers and prevent them from rolling around off the log and potentially burning you badly.

[carving the center of the log]

To be neat and appealing to the eye, I took my knife and whittled the edges of the log on the top, to make it look a little bit more finished. This is optional and will have no effect on the usefulness of your project.

[whittling the edges]

Start a small fire. This will provide you with burning embers which will be needed for the project. If in a real survival situation the fire will need to be constantly tended to. For this project, the fire may burn itself out after you have created it. I used scrap wood for my fire as the intent is to create a series of hot coals.

[creating a fire]

Once the fire has a bed of coals, *CAREFULLY* obtain some small embers. This can be done by using a long stick to knock the embers onto your knife, or if you have one, a shovel or other instrument. Be careful when handling embers as they can cause serious burns.

Place the embers on your log, and gently blow on them to make them glow red. The point is to get the log itself to start to smoulder and ignite in the center.

[embers carefully placed on the log]

As you can see by the following photo, a small fire may erupt on your log. This will simply accelerate your progress. Beware if the fire starts to get too large, your bowl will not grow deep, but large and shallow. This will not be as useful when it has been completed.

[embers burning the log]

When your embers have burned themselves out, return them to your fire pit. While there, use your knife to dig out the log. Dig only the center of the log, and leave the charred edges intact. This will encourage your log to burn deep, rather than wide.

Load your log with new embers, and allow them to burn. Help the process by blowing air onto the embers and ensuring that they glow nicely.

[removing burnt embers from log]

By now you should see a clear round or oval shape of your bowl begining to come to life. The embers will start to sit in the log, rather than on the log. This means the project is coming along.

[burning embers in log]

To ensure your log burns deep and not wide, ensure that the edges of the log are kept damp. In a survival situation cat tails will act like a sponge and hold water in, to be smeared around the log. Avoid pouring water on the log as it will undoubtedly be drawn to your embers and attempt to wreck your project. Wipe the edges of the log frequently to ensure your bowl becomes deep.

[using cat tails as a sponge]

[using cat tail sponge to apply water to the log]

After several replacement embers, and scrapings, your log will start to take shape. When feel the bowl is deep enough, dispose of your embers into the fire pit and scrape the bowl out completely. It may take a bit of work to get all the pieces of burnt log out of your bowl. Be careful not to scrape too hard or you will have ruined the afternoons work.

[embers burning through the log to create a bowl]

[scraping the log]

Your completed bowl should look similar to the one below. A nice, deep hollow should be in the middle of your log. This can take several hours to accomplish and gets better with practice.

[completed bowl]

Once you are satisfied with your bowl, fill it with water to ensure it will not leak, and to ensure that there is no smouldering still taking place.

[filling the completed bowl with water]

There are many things you can do to finish your bowl. You can use a rough rock to grind out more of the inside and make it smoother. You can even use natural resins to put a finish on the bowl so it can be more useful. If you have the time you can whittle the exterior and make it more bowl shaped. The possibilities are endless. This is only a beginners guide to creating primitive bowls.

Once completed, this bowl may be used for dozens of things around your campsite. It can be used for holding drinking water. It can even be used for transporting embers to a new campsite if you have no way of starting a new fire.

The log bowl takes a lot of time to make. In a survival situation this is a good thing as it helps occupy the mind and keep it sharp. Boredom in can be your worst enemy. Please comment on this article, and “Digg it” if you feel it may be of use to others.

PLEASE NOTE: There is a possibility of cuts from your knife, and burns from fire embers. Please use caution and care when using sharp objects, and working around fire! If you choose to use any methods in this article – Wolfmaan.com and it's affiliates are not responsible for damages caused directly or indirectly from use and misuse of this article and it's directions.

Frontenac Provincial Park Visit - May 2010

In May of 2010, my doctor recommended I take a few months stress leave from my office job in order to deal with a lot of stuff that has been going in in my private life.

I took a trip to Frontenac Provincial Park for a short, four day backpacking trip.

Frontenac Provincial Park, just outside of Kingston, Ontario is one of those “best kept secret” places. There are few visitors. This is mostly because there is no car camping available. All campsites are classed as “Interior”, meaning you have to backpack into the campsite.

The park has a lot to offer those seeking a wilderness experience but don't want to drive ten hours north of Toronto. The park is only about three hours from Toronto and can easily be reached by taking Highway 401 towards Kingston.

A word to the wise, obey the speed limit signs of the area. The sharp curves are posted at 30km/h. I was going a little fast, and was quickly forced to slow down to avoid hitting a guardrail.

Park Staff are friendly, and helpful. Registration was quick and easy. Frontenac Park is truly a wilderness environment. Be sure to go prepared with proper equipment for all weather. Everyone knows it always rains when you go camping.

Long, compacted dirt trails are easy on bare feet, and there are few steep hills heading to the campsites. There are a few low lying muddy areas scattered across the trails. Few of them have bridges to keep you dry.

Wildlife is everywhere. On the hike to the campsite, I was lucky enough to see deer, snakes, frogs, tadpoles, chipmunks, and even large snails. There are a multitude of small lakes which are host to beaver dams, and the occasional beaver sighting. Be prepared for bear encounters.

Divided into “clusters”, the parks campsites were clean, well maintained and fairly distanced from each other. There was a good sized throne room a few minutes walk away from the campsite. The view of Little Salmon Lake was spectacular. A small sand filled pack was installed to give even ground on tents and minimise environmental impact. My campsite even had wood sitting by the steel firepit.

Myself and Luka were the only people at the campsite for the three days we spent there. We didn't run into anyone else – except chipmunks and dragonflies.

Surrounding the campsite are networks of trails. Some of which lead to abandoned mines, old homesteads, and panoramic views of the wilderness.

The day of departure, I awoke to the sound of rain on my tent. Packing up and leaving camp is always a bit of a challenge when it's raining.

Well planned trails made travelling in the rain easy. The boggy areas could be a bit of a challenge for the shod, as wet shoes and socks can create blisters. Barefoot travel through the mud is always easy and bare feet dry quickly.

Frontenac Provincial Park is worth the visit if you are seeking a quick get-away into the wilderness which is close to home.

The complete photo slideshow can be found here

First barefoot hike of 2010

First barefoot hike of 2010

It was an exciting Friday. The day started out with a pitch for an outdoor tour business, which ended up with me being featured in a local newspaper.

My friend Chuck picked me up from the business meeting and wished me well. “I want to relax, and it's a beautiful day” I said.

“Let's hit the trails and visit the Niagara Gorge” Chuck replied.

Crossing over the St. Lawrence Seaway bridge into Niagara-On-The-Lake, I stopped off home and picked up my CADPAT (Canadian Disruptive Pattern) backpack and my husky Luka.

It was a strange kind of day. Bright, sunny and beautiful, yet fairly cold. It was 0C outside, but it felt much warmer with bright sunlight shining down. The ground was cold, and the wind cut through my clothing to chill to the bone.

Inside the car, however the bright sunlight kept me warm in my jacket, and Luka started panting until I rolled down the window.

After navigating a traffic circle (an unusual road feature in Canada) Chuck pulled up at the Niagara Gorge in Niagara Falls. It felt warm, until I stepped outside to feel the cold start to cut through my gear. The ground felt warm under my bare feet. The sun had been beating down on the asphalt for most of the morning and heated it up.

Kitting up with my nylon pants, thick t-shirt, hat, glasses, backpack, and winter jacket I hit the trails. It was time to start training for hiking this summer. I decided to stow my black Vibram Fivefingers in my backpack and hoped to make this my first barefoot hike of the year.

Winter softness had crept into my normally tough, leathery feet. I was surprised how much I could feel the small pebbles beneath my feet. The mulch covered trails felt a little sharp and cool as I walked towards the grey metal stairs which would lead to the bottom of the Niagara Gorge.

The Niagara Gorge which is down stream from Niagara Falls is an environmentally significant and sensitive area. There are species of moss and fern as well as some small salamanders which are found nowhere else in Canada. The unique features of the gorge, which include high, sheer cliffs and the thunderous Niagara River have created a unique, sheltered, Carolinian forest environment.

The massive steel steps take me below the hustle and bustle of Canada's largest tourist area of Canada. (also home to one of the Wonders of the World - Niagara Falls)

Stepping off the unforgiving steel stairs, I was met with a cold, harsh stone packed trail. The wind was ripping through the gorge and right into me. I pulled up my hood to help block out the wind. I headed South toward Niagara Falls and a section known as the whirlpool.

I was walking along a smooth stone ridge scattered with small pebbles. I was surprised how liberating it felt to go barefoot, even in the cold. It felt so natural. It made me feel connected to the land, and the Great Creator. The valley below was filled with trees devoid of leaves. I could see the trees themselves. Birch, Cedar, and pine. Up above in the bright blue sky, Turkey Vultures soared on the thermal turbulence created by the Niagara River. Below I could hear small creatures scurrying about.

As I was contemplating how liberated I was feeling, I rounded a bend in the gorge and was met with beautiful sunlight. The sunlight had warmed the rocks beneath my feet.

“Perhaps this is what shod people feel” I thought to myself. My body was freezing cold, and I was bundled up, but my feet were warm!

Large sheer rocks towered overhead, and the trail followed a small pathway deeper into the gorge. Giant boulders were strewn about haphazardly over hundreds of years. Mosses grew on some of the rocks, while others had trees struggling to survive growing on them.

The familiar earth smell permeated through the air. The musty, almost sweet smell was very soothing.

Descending further, the trail made it's way to a set of giant, house-sized boulders which had rolled into eachother many moons ago. The boulders were only touching at the top. This created an arch which you could walk through. The stone had retained winters wrath and it was noticeably colder passing between them.

The pathway, cut out of stone led to a surprising sight. Patches of ice lay before me on the trail. Chuck went ahead of me and took some photographs while I walked barefoot over the ice. Surprisingly it did not feel very cold. The spring sun was slowly eroding it's power.

The ice quickly gave way to more flat stone, polished by thousands of hikers moving through this area over the years. Some areas felt cool, others felt warm. The texture of each rock was unique. Some were smooth like a hardwood floor, others were porous like a cement sidewalk.

Evidence of beavers in the area became evident. Several of the towering old growth trees, mostly birch, had an hourglass shape gnawed into them near the base. The Parks Commission had made short work of cutting down the trees that were victim to the beavers work. Possibly to prevent the trees from toppling over on unsuspecting hikers.

The birch trees have a beautiful white bark which curls slightly off the tree as it ages. The beavers work had exposed the trees inner wood. Glistening in the sunlight, an array of colours could be seen. The white exterior contrasted bright oranges, yellows, and even reds of the trees inner wood.

I decided to head up the trail, towards a small beach which led to the edge of the Niagara River. The river, is a massive torrent. Unbridled violence, Class 7 rapids, undertows, submerged rocks, back eddies, and whirlpools make this an extremely dangerous waterway.

This entire area is dangerous. Each year, inexperienced and unprepared hikers end up either dying or getting severely injured in the area. The area is so dangerous that a new helicopter rescue pad was build several years ago to extricate injured hikers.

Approaching the beach, I was surprised at the sight. The sun-bleached beach had a unique feature. About 2m from beach bottom, was a distinct dark coloured line which encompassed everything in the area.

“Holy Crap!” Chuck exclaimed “Look how low the water level is!” Chuck fumbled for his camera and started snapping pictures.

I made my way from the dirt and rock floor of the forest, to the normally submerged section of the gorge. I was surprised to see the unusual rock formations, fossils and glacier potholes that were visible. Over the thousands of years this massive, violent river has flowed through the area it wore smooth most of the rocks. Other areas were jagged and looked like pieces had been ripped away.

Many of the rocks looked like the surface of a sponge. When glaciers receded in the area about twelve thousand years ago, small hard rocks spun around in the torrent of the water and ground into the softer rocks, leaving amazing formations.

Of course, the low water levels also revealed scrap metal, beer cans, life jackets, and other human rubbish.

The terrain was varied as I made my way across the bare stones. Some felt warm and smooth, others were somewhat sharp and jagged.

Looking around at the low water levels, it was amazing to think I would be standing in water over my head if the river had returned to it's normal levels. To my left, something caught my eye.

Someone had taken the time to create two small Inukshuk's. Small stone structures made without any clay or bonding agents, that represent a human figure. Created by Native Americans in the north to as a representation that human settlements were nearby. I took some photos of the Inukshuks and noticed Luka had gone missing.

Off in the distance, Luka had found some new friends. A group of young people hiking in the opposite direction had come across her and was giving her attention. As usual, Luka enjoyed it very much.

Steep hills and a few flat areas left me wanting a rest. A large flat rock jutted out into the air over the raging river below. I removed my pack and enjoyed the beauty of the bright blue skies, sheer canyon walls, and raging river below.

Chuck dug through his pack to find a zip top bag full of mustard pretzels which he offered to me. I had several and a raspberry chocolate bar. The area felt so serene.

The sunlight warmed the rocks, but the air was still cold enough to see your breath.

Finishing my snacks, I put on my backpack, and headed up the trail. Steep hills covered in smooth rocks, pebbles, and of course mulched forest floor.

Each texture on the ground has it's own distinct temperature, and feel underfoot. Something shod hikers cannot begin to understand. From sandy, to sharp, to crunchy, the ground provides the barefoot hiker with an amazing experience.

Rounding a large bend in the trail, the new concrete heli-pad came into view. The large steel cables of the cablecar could be seen high above me anchored into the gorge walls.

The elbow in the mighty Niagara River creates a huge whirlpool surrounded by magnificent rapids which throw the water up to a metre in the air. The area is spectacular to behold.

“May as well head back” I said to Chuck. “At least we proved that it could be done, and the trail does exist between the two stair wells” Chuck agreed.

The walk back seemed to go faster, as there were few photo stops. With the exception of short rests at the top of hills.

The long climb up winding switchback paths took me to the giant cold steel stairs, which led to the parking lot. I took some time to relax, and enjoy the beautiful day.

It was a fantastic day for my first six hour long barefoot hike of the 2010 summer season!

Complete photoset can be found here.

A Trip Through The Salt Flats

One beautiful autumn morning in September, I found myself cruising up Interstate 80 in Utah back in 2002. The sun wasn't visible. Only a faint orange glow crept over the horizon behind me. The whine of the engine was locked into place using the cruise control. Air made a roaring sound as it swept over the Jeep and the tyres rumbled as they clawed the road. Warm winds pressed against me and set my shirt flying, trying desperately to break free. Around me, the long expanse brown nothingness edged with flat topped mountains surrounded the narrow stretch of black road. The thin black ribbon of road seemed to dip into the dessert like the spine of an open book laying on the table. The road looked wet from the autumn heat in the distance. I hadn't seen another car on the road in almost seven hours.

Lupis, my husky sat buckled in the passenger seat with his tounge hanging out. He was panting lightly as his hair was blown around in the open air Jeep. Gazing into the distance, he admired the vast beauty that surrounded us. His big brown eyes fixed on the mountains reaching up to scrape the clear blue skies. In the back seat sleeping peacefully was Tori.

The large expanses of beautiful, featureless brown dessert started to give way. A strange white substance covered the ground. Looking like glistening snow on a cold winters day, my mind couldn't quite comprehend the scene.

“Salt” I said outloud to Lupis. This area of the United States was covered in a deep layer of salt. It looked identical to fresh snow. An hour or two of of white nothingness cut by the black road became quite hypnotic. The sun was shining brightly in the desert as I passed through the outskirts of Salt Lake City. For the first time today other cars and trucks came into view. I knocked off the cruise control and slowed down my big black Jeep and it's powerful v6 engine. The small black trailer swayed gently as the vehicle coasted and reduced speed.

Salt Lake City is a beautiful city. Like most metropolitan areas it was filled with tall skyscrapers and glass-walled buildings. Only a small part of the city was viewable from the highway. Passing through, a very strange sight crept up beside me.

To my right, a large lake known as great salt lake came into view. Temperatures outside were in the 20C range, but the edges of the lake looked like large chunks of ice had formed and deposited around them. Salt deposits!

The warm autumn day and the ice and snow like salt deposits gave the area a unique feel. My body said it should be winter, but it was warm. The Jeep top should be on to protect from the cold, but only warm, dry air circulated around us.

As quick as it came, the good sized metropolis of Salt Lake City disappeared into my rearview mirror. Ahead lay large expanses of white, baron nothingness. Some small mountains could be seen in the distance. The sight of other cars became less and less. Soon Lupis, Tori and I were alone again on the open road. Nothing around us for kilometres in every direction.

Off in the distance what looked like a giant tree rose up out of the ground. A short time later, a large brown pillar rose out of the salt-desert floor. The top of the pillar had large green orbs attached to it, and something on the ground beside it.

As the object grew near, it looked like a giant telephone pole with tennis balls attached to it at the top. I pulled the Jeep over to have a closer look. I unbuckled Lupis and Tori arose from her slumber to see why we had stopped.

I stepped barefoot out of the Jeep to have a very unusual experience. This was the first time I had stepped on a desert of salt. The salt beneath my feet felt rough, like sandpaper. Somewhat sharp on each step, I approached the large sculpture. The salt crunched at some points underfoot.

The large brown pole shot up out of the desert what looked like 60m! Around the top, large spheres coloured green and striped in yellow and red, identical to a massive tennis ball. To each side of the giant structure, large potato-chip shaped pieces of the sculpture lay beside it. In the distance, beautiful mountains edged the dessert like the crust of a giant white pizza.

“What is it?” Tori asked. “I don't know” I replied. “It looks like it must be broken as there are two pieces lying around on the ground over there”.

Lupis ran to the concrete base of the structure and relieved himself as Tori and I looked in awe of this giant piece of art standing in the middle of the desert. “There's a plaque on it over there” I said out loud, and walked towards the structure.

The plaque read “The Tree of Utah (Metaphor) by Karl Momen Completed January 1986” Under that was the phrase "A hymn to our universe, whose glory and dimension is beyond all myth and imagination"

I called Lupis, took a couple of photographs and returned to the idling jeep. “Wow” I said as I fastened Lupis into the passenger seat. “Such an unusual thing to see in the middle of a desert”.



Climbing back into the Jeep, Tori settled in to resume resting in the back seat of the Jeep. I pushed the shifter into first gear and pulled away from this magnificent sculpture.

Reaching fifth gear, I engaged the cruise control and settled in for another long ride. Our destination was Los Angeles, California. We had tons of time and no real agenda.

An hour or so after passing the Tree of Utah, a small exit came visible on the side of the road that read “Bonneville Salt Flats” I had to stop.

I geared down the Jeep and pulled into the small strip parking lot on the side of the road. “Hey! Wake up!” I exclaimed. “This is the Bonneville salt flats, Look!” I pointed to the sign “This is where cars break the sound barrier”. Tori seemed less than enthused.

I suggested that since it was still light, we should go for a walk into the dessert. Tori said that the mountains in the distance didn't look far, and maybe we could climb one, and make it back before dark.

After letting the Jeep idle while we grabbed out backpacks out of the trailer, we shut the Jeep down, and I placed Lupis' green pack over him, and we headed out for a short hike into the desert, passing the large concrete sign stating we were in the Bonneville salt flats.



I was surprised how rough the salt on the ground was. Infact, I wasn't sure it was salt at all. I was sure that it was some kind of sand. With the Jeep and trailer shrinking on the horizon, and my feet tingling from the salt beneath me, I grabbed my Swiss Army Knife and knelt down on the ground.

Taking a deep breath, the warm dry salty air filled my lungs. I looked out and could see the layers of salt which had taken form in the wind. I dug my knife into the ground. It was surprisingly hard. Hard like asphalt! A few moments later a small chunk of the white desert floor flicked off and I picked it up.

“Please don't tell me you're going to eat that” Tori remarked with a scowl. “I don't believe it's really salt” I replied. I examined the small white, crystalline rock in my hand. It had a few specks of dirt on it, but otherwise looked like a small piece of snow.

Opening my mouth, I popped in the chunk of desert floor. Not surprisingly the taste of salt filled my mouth. “Well?” Tori asked with eyebrows now raised. “Salty.” I stated. As nonchalantly as possible I grabbed my water canteen and drank some water to get rid of the taste. I could have sworn Tori was smirking at me.

A few hours later the mountains came into view. Far behind me was the small black speck which was my Jeep. It looked like a tractor-trailer had pulled into the parking area as well. My feet were starting to feel a little raw from wandering over the course salt barefoot for the last three hours.

“It's starting to get dark, we should head back to the Jeep.” I mentioned. Sadly, the mountains were very close but we didn't want to leave the open Jeep by itself for the night. I snapped a photo of the area and we headed back to the Jeep.

Arriving just after nightfall, My feet felt a little raw from walking over the rough, crunchy salt for almost six hours. Looking up, the stars above us were spectacular. Millions and millions of stars hung so low it looked like we could touch them.

“We'll sleep here for the night” I said. Tori dug out the sleeping bags and curled up in the back seat of the Jeep. I slept in the open trailer with Lupis, admiring the beauty surrounding me.

As I drift off to sleep under a canopy of countless stars on a cool autumn night, a shooting star cut through the cosmos.

Decew Falls Tunnel Exploration 200809-30

Decew Falls Tunnel Exploration
August 30, 2009

This weekend, I was supposed to be hiking the Bruce Trail in Collingwood, Ontario but the weather report stated lots of rain so I decided to call it off.

I searched the internet for any details of this area which has fascinated me for many years but I dared not enter because I wasn't cave certified previously. The best information I could find about the Decew Falls mine was that it was an old mine from the 1800's and ran about 1,200 metres long and came to an abrupt end. Speaking with my step father-in-law he stated that the tunnel was used by the Decew Power company to discharge water from the turbines back in the 1800's and may lead into the current sewage treatment plant nearby. Either way it sounded like a great adventure!

A Weekend Warrior friend of mine arrived around noon and we headed out to Decew Falls, in the Southern End of St. Catharines. We parked in the parking lot and I packed away my helmet and Petzl torch and we made the journey to a section of the park which has some ropes attached to it for easy access to the gorge floor where a small stream runs alongside a hiking path to the base of the falls.

Taking my Siberian Husky Luka to the bottom of the gorge was easier than expected. We made our way down to the hiking trail which had quite a few people on it as it was a nice weekend, although a good chance of rain.

We arrived at the entrance to the tunnel to find an unexpected visitor was sunning himself on the rocks near the falls – a good sized Eastern Fox Snake. My friend kept Luka away from the snake and I grabbed a few photos.

Approaching the entrance to the old tunnel we were enveloped in the mist of the waterfall which gave an exotic feel to this location. I put on my helmet and Petzl LED torch, my friend decided to forgo any head protection.

The water was surprisingly warm and very clear as I walked barefoot through the entrance to the old shaft which was closed off by a steel door which had long been forced open. There was a set of cart tracks which seemed to run the length of the tunnel. I was a little concerned about broken glass laying in the silt of the tunnel, and kept to walking on the steel cart tracks and moved along slowly.

Being enveloped by darkness, sounds of the Decew Falls quickly faded away leaving us to hear only our footsteps through the water and Luka running around in the tunnel.

The tunnel walls felt cool to the touch and slimy, and we could smell a musty mildew-like smell which is common in areas like this.

Heading deeper into the old tunnel we could see something reflecting in our torches up ahead. The tunnel got wider at one point, then narrowed again. The walls in some areas were covered in rust coloured slime with water slowly dripping off them to form stalactites on the ceiling. I turned to my friend and said “Lick it... LICK IT! You know you want to!” to which we both laughed.

The water and railroad tracks came to an end, buried under some hard mud and we made our way past some old scrap metal left in the tunnel to the end of the tunnel.

The end of the tunnel was blocked by a large black powder-coated pipe which protruded into the tunnel surrounded by large wooden timbers on all sides. Blocking our path was a convex steel plate, keeping whatever was behind it secured. The bottom of the steel pipe had an old valve, long rotted out and rusted from disuse. The tunnel was at most 500 metres long, nowhere near the 1,200 metres I had read about on the internet.

Luka enjoyed her huskysploration of the tunnel, and my friend and I took some photos and then slowly made our way through the slimy water, and musty smelling air back to daylight at the end of the tunnel.

There was a bit of rubbish in the tunnel from aluminium pop cans, and plastic water bottles but thankfully all the glass we saw was intact and posed no danger to Luka and my bare feet.

Arriving back at the entrance to the cave, we were met by a young gentleman and several children who were quite fascinated by the cave, but had no torches or equipment to explore it as we had.

Making the trip back up the gorge walls to the paths above, we stopped in at the Decew Falls museum and spoke with the volunteers there. They had little knowledge or information about the tunnel we just explored. They did, however comment on how well behaved Luka was and said they loved her blue eyes.

Full photos of the adventure can be found here