Abandonment Issues: Cordova Mines Vansickle House 4 (Ma Bell)

This was originally intended to be a three-part-series. But alas, Ninja and I finished off Vansickle Road this past weekend, in the company of my older brother, and we found three more abandoned houses before reaching the abrupt dead end. So this will now be a six part series. Coincidentally, it all comes back around full circle to my own personal experiences.

In the third post, I stated that exploring these types of locations offers a glimpse into the past, and where we came from. I didn't actually mean a literal glimpse into our own pasts. But that is exactly the case here, this was a true glimpse into my own past, and it brought back memories that I had long forgotten.

In the summers of the early 1970s, my grandparents rented the tiny cottage above the garage, from the Cordova Mines Vansickle House 4 property owner, the widow Kay Bell. Each summer, my mother would take a two week holiday from her nursing job at St. Joseph's Hospital and spend her vacations relaxing on the shores of Cordova Lake, and lounging in this miniature cottage. Kay Bell was quite fond of my mother and gave her a lamp and an antique butter dish as wedding gifts, which she still possesses.

My grandparent's cottage


Spring forward to the late seventies and early eighties. My grandparents would spend entire summers at the cottage rent free, in exchange for caring for the property on behalf of the aging Kay Bell, who we called Ma Bell. We would spend weekends here in the summers as very young children, my brothers and I, frolicking in the water and playing with our cousins that lived around the corner. While most of the adults pounded back the alcohol lakeside, my grandfather would be doing his own thing in the late Fred Bell's workshop in behind Ma Bell's house. The house itself we never entered, until now, and in pitch blackness, it proved to be far less interesting than the workshop. The cottage where we spent most of our time as children, was now sealed tight, and the lakeside shack has been demolished.

As we wandered the property and poked around in the workshop, my older brother regaled us with stories that continued to trigger memories in me. My father out on the lake fishing with a case of beer and returning to shore hammered with dinner, which my grandmother would prepare on the stove in the cottage. My grandpa stashing and sneaking cigars and liquor, some of which we found still stashed away in the workshop. "Don't tell your Nana boys, our secret." he'd always say. There was no running water in the cottage, my brother told us. And the STINKY sign above the door of the outhouse instantly refreshed my memory, and I chuckled. My brother unraveled a newspaper he found on a shelf in the workshop, it was dated the summer after I was born. Our grandfather would have read that paper, folded it up and placed it in that very spot, we concluded. In fact, our grandfather would have been the only one using this workshop since the early seventies. These old vices and jars of nuts and bolts. These moonshine bottles and aspirin tins. This is literally where I come from.

Ma Bell's front entrance


Ma Bell's living room


Ma Bell's Rideau heater/oven/stove


Ma Bell's fridge


Ma Bell's dishes

Ma Bell's broach


123456789*0#


STINKY


STINKY


My grandfather's workshop exterior


My grandfather's workshop interior


NO BOTTLES OR TINS


The jars


My grandfather's moonshine bottles


The Globe & Mail Sports August 12, 1978


Another family vice


TRUMP CIGAR


ASPIRIN


FAST RELIEF


Fred J. Bell's train and Outboard Motor receipts


I literally walked into the light


Every explorer's must have tool


My grandfather's moonshine bottle


RRR RADWAY & CO. MONTREAL CAN


Horseshoe for good luck


Buried in history


We lifted up the ice box and propped it up


Fred J. Bell's blueberries dated July 01, 1953


Cordova Lake


Again, thanks for sharing in our adventures, it is always nice when you stop by. I'll definitely cherish this visit for the rest of my life, it was a wonderful experience to share this rediscovery with people that I love.

In part 5, we'll explore a creepy old house further up the road, still containing hunting gear and complete with it's own abandoned grow-op trailer, as male voices outside appear to be approaching.

click here to check out all of jerm & ninja IX's ABANDONMENT ISSUES

Abandonment Issues: Cordova Mines Vansickle House 3

This is the third and final post in the Cordova Mines Vansickle House series. Click here for parts 1 and 2.

The urge to explore the unknown resides within us. It is in our DNA. However, the Age of Discovery is behind us. There is no new terrain to map. There are no unknown masses of land across large bodies of water for us to stumble upon and colonize. The lines have been drawn, the land has been acquired, and the new subdivisions and malls are already under construction. But still, within us resides that innate desire to explore the unknown, and with nothing new to explore, we are left with only one option-rediscovery.

In contrast to the explorers of the past that ventured into the unknown in hopes of creating a brighter future, todays urban/rural explorers venture into the unknown in hopes of catching a glimpse into the past. In these dilapidated structures we can discover who we were and where we came from, and more importantly, we can connect with that history. We can live vicariously through past generations by unearthing their dated possessions and allowing their homes and workplaces to tell us their stories.

We begin our voyage by shutting the car doors, turning on the heated seats, and pressing random play on a jam packed 80 gig ipod. We plot a course on the map, well, on iphone GPS, slowly but surely traversing a grid of every highway and back road in Southern Ontario. We stop for coffee and cigars at one of an endless array of conveniently located gas stations and coffee shops. Yes, we definitely enjoy the modern luxuries afforded to todays explorers. Much like Columbus and Magellan sailed the seas in search of land, we drive these roads in search of abandonments, unsure of what we will find, if anything. While my Abandonment Issues blog posts are predominantly focused on the destinations themselves, this old Chinese proverb could not be truer- "The journey is the reward."

So to summarize, in exploration, as in life, the journey is indeed the reward. And with a vast open landscape before us offering up numerous unknown destinations and adventures, the journey has only just begun.

Disconnected


Too many cooks in the kitchen


Wallpapered dreams


Raccoon carcass


Hunter gatherers


Black and white memories


A suitcase full of feces


Silk pajamas


IX of clubs


Boob tubes


A raccoon scurried out from under the garbage bag and ran past me and the raccoon carcass and out through the open wall


Curtain closure


Well nested


For the love of reading


Ms. Pac-Man


Another raccoon was scratching feverishly under the stairs


That second raccoon was scratching the floor under my feet, following me around beneath the floorboards


No rest for the wicked


Rip torn


Belle Isle Aquarium


Cordova Mines Vansickle House 3


And just when you thought the adventure was coming to a close...

Daylight faded to pitch blackness before we reached the end of Vansickle Road, and considering how many abandoned locations can be found in this area, we can only assume that there may very well be more of them to be found. As a very young child, my grandparents rented a cottage on this road and my aunt and uncle lived lakeside. My brothers and I spent a lot of time in this area in the summers of the 1980s. We plan to return here with my mother and brother in the coming weeks and finish the adventure. If there is anything else worthy of note, you can bet that a Cordova Mines Vansickle House 4 post will be just around the corner.

click here to check out all of jerm & ninja IX's ABANDONMENT ISSUES

jerm IX Tattoo Project: Graffiti Tattoo Vol. 2

From Here To Fame has recently published and released Graffiti Tattoo Vol. 2, a second, and much more comprehensive book exploring the transition that graffiti writers are making into the tattoo world. It is a fantastic book, highlighting over 60 incredible artists spanning a wide range of styles that go far beyond the tribal designs and traditional sailor styles.

I was more than happy to oblige when contacted by From Here To Fame about featuring my tattoos in Graffiti Tattoo Vol. 2. The following is the excerpt about what I have labeled the jerm IX tattoo project that appears in the book.

"I always knew that I would be covered in tattoos. It was the one and only thing that I ever admired about my biological father. At age 16, I almost got a pot leaf dude smoking a joint on my arm, thankfully I didn't. It wasn't until I was 30 years old that I found something that I was passionate enough about to ink it onto my skin. Street art changed my life, and to celebrate that I decided to donate my body to street art. My skin became a canvas for select street artists from around the world. The goal of the jerm IX tattoo project is to celebrate these amazing artists in a somewhat less ephemeral nature than the streets allow. Each artist is asked to create a custom design in their respective style that incorporates a part of who I am. Sometimes a part of my life story is being told subtly, other times, a beard or other features are added to a character design, bringing me to life in the worlds that these artists create, and that I am so fascinated by. It is an absolute honour to wear these images on my skin and I have unending respect for every artist that has contributed to the jerm IX tattoo project thus far, not just for the free designs, but for each individual artist's incredible body of work."








In future jerm IX Tattoo Project posts, I will highlight one design at a time and share the significance and stories behind them. More importantly, I will shine the spotlight on the bodies of work of these amazing artists, many of whom I am blessed to call friends.

All of the inked images can be seen here.

All that is left for you to do now is go and buy a copy of Graffiti Tattoo Vol. 2.

Abandonment Issues: Cordova Mines Vansickle House 2

In the first in this series of three posts, we explored the Cordova Mines Vansickle House 1, and I answered the question of why I am drawn to explore these dilapidated and often dangerous locations from a personal philosophical perspective. In this second post, I'll answer that same question from an adventure seeking standpoint.

Urban/rural exploration offers a custom experience, each and every time. Some people find pleasure in simpler activities, such as going to the the movies, fishing or bowling, but these activities are quite mundane. More adventurous types satiate their thrill seeking appetite by riding roller coasters in massive theme parks or bungee jumping from bridges, but these activities are too prescribed for my liking, (not that I don't enjoy them as well). There are no long line-ups or crowds at abandoned buildings. No overpriced sodas or gift shops filled with doodads and trinkets. There are no billboards or fees to pay. There is nothing corporate about it, which for me, is a huge turn on. There are not many places left to go where you will not be bombarded with advertisements and corporate agendas, but these rare places have been deemed worthless in the marketplace and are ignored by the powers that be.

Long drives filled with anticipation and wide-eyed abandonment hunting encourages the explorer to modify the way he or she looks at and perceives the environment. Stumbling upon a location that has been left behind by its inhabitants is always a unique experience, for one simple reason-The unknown.

Is the building inhabited by squatters, addicts or raccoons? Does a property owner still care for or potentially monitor the property? What will I find inside? What did the previous inhabitants leave behind? What story will it tell me? Can I even get inside? Is it safe? Is their dangerous mould (which I am allergic to) or unsafe flooring or mountains of raccoon feces? Will I get caught? If so, can I talk my way out of it? Do I have an adequate back story prepared? These are just a few of the questions that rattle around my head before I even get to the door, or start looking for a point of entry.

That gets us to the fun part-Finding a way inside, a point of entry, a puzzle to solve. Sometimes it is as easy as walking through an open door or climbing through a broken window. At this particular location, the house provided it's own P.O.E., the foundation is slipping and the walls have slowly shifted, ripping it apart at the seems and opening a massive hole in the side of the house. Other times, one must be more creative, persistent or adventurous. Scaling the walls of an abandoned hospital that was completely boarded up on the first floor, for example. At the Insane Asylum, we returned a half a dozen times before gaining entry. I will not give any further examples of how one gains entry to a location, but I will say this, I have never broken into an abandoned building using force, nor will I.

Once inside, the adventure really kicks off. Often, the element of danger heightens the level of excitement and satisfaction. Discoveries often include long forgotten objects, as well as furniture covered in spider webs and feces. Aged photographs and postcards give life to long deceased inhabitants of old farmhouses and hunting cabins like this one. Black mould clings to walls like abstract paintings in The Louvre. Collapsing floors and sketchy staircases provide a challenge, as well as a level of danger and risk taking that I have grown accustomed to in my life.

Strumming an acoustic guitar you find in a closet, only to have the fragile strings snap under the pressure of today's music. Reading aloud from an old letter or book you find in a dresser drawer or beneath a pile of snow under a collapsed roof. Standing before a dust covered piano and tapping the ivory keys that haven't hummed a note in who knows how long may very well awaken a raccoon in it's den within the walls and it may add it's scratches to the symphony. In some buildings, alarms ring out. These are the soundtracks to our adventures.

In most cases, I am joined on these explorations by my fiancé and partner for 16 years known as Ninja IX. We share in these experiences, which double as bonding exercises. We utilize each others strengths and accommodate for each others weaknesses. We trust in each other and have learned to communicate in utter silence when necessary. We photograph and document these adventures as a team, passing cameras to and fro, often competing in photo challenges based on certain objects, which allows us both to grow as photographers. We always stop and embrace, and soak in the moment that we have all to ourselves. We encourage each other to push our limits and go beyond our comfort zones. We trust each other's gut feelings and respond accordingly. All of this translates well to all aspects of our relationship, bringing us even closer.

We bask in the moments that we create for ourselves.

The most important factor here is that it is a custom experience, a real life choose your own adventure. In a world of prescribed corporate sponsored fun, where the outskirts of every city look exactly the same and all offer carbon copy experiences, urban/rural exploration provides a glimpse into the unknown, as well as into the past. With the globe completely mapped and jam packed with cookie cutter communities, and a travel industry predominantly focused on pre-planned packaged deals that see thousands of people repeating the same adventure cyclically, experiencing the unknown has become quite rare.

And so here again, we wander the path less traveled. Our footprints in the snow are the only ones to be found.

The newspaper atop the stove is The Toronto Star, dated August 13, 1996


Fly on the wall


Legs to stand on


Green with envy


The pot calling the kettle another means of boiling water


Dinner is served


Yesterday is gone forever


A ladder to nowhere


Art attack


The interweb


A raccoon's final resting place


Sit down shut up


Bedtime story


A raccoon was scratching feverishly upstairs, so I picked up a broom and carried it in front of me as I ascended


Another ladder to nowhere, thankfully the raccoon was in it's den within the walls


Another bedtime story


Forgotten literature


Yet another bedtime story


The drawers were empty, but for a layer of dust


Thank you for taking the time to read this second post. In the next post, we will explore the Cordova Mines Vansickle House 3, and conclude the series.

click here to check out all of jerm & ninja IX's ABANDONMENT ISSUES