Brock University’s campus is relatively remote, surrounded only by a few recently developed plazas on one end and kilometers of woodland trails on the other. The design of the structures is a mix between the concrete Brutalist architecture that flourished in the 1960s and the modern additions which emphasize the use of glass and metal. Even though the campus isn’t very big, I always found that fringe hallways and classrooms are generally left empty — prone to the wanderings of a curious mind. Late at night, academic campuses have a certain ambiance that really isn’t similar to many other places; It’s like the whole thing is finally getting its moment to rest once the sun sets and my presence is disturbing the whole process.
What makes Brock a unique complex to explore is the nature of its utility/steam tunnels. As Ninjalicious described in his entry in Infiltration.org from 1999, "The Brock tunnels are the safest, coolest (temperature-wise) tunnels I've ever visited. Physical plant workers are in the tunnels all the time, and ride quickly through them on bicycles. In spite of this very tame quality, the Brock tunnels were quite interesting. They are very closely integrated with the school itself; whereas most steam tunnels just hook up with mechanical rooms underneath various colleges, these tunnels opened right out into the main hallways of the campus."
I spent a lot of time in these concrete catacombs — escaping the depressing realities of post-secondary education. Urbex is, in many ways, similar to party culture, but the differences become apparent as the two collide late on a Friday night: on my way to an adventure, I’d often run into loud and giggly groups of my drunken peers where the dudes were always be dressed in some fashionable brand while the girls were in those same skimpy clubbing outfits that get worn no matter what time of year it is. As for myself, I’d be in the dark, weathered outfit that always accompanied me on these sorts of missions. As we passed each other on the sidewalk, there was always this brief moment where they would eye me up and down with the strangest look on their faces, like, “who is this hobo and what could he possibily be up to looking like that?”. And every time, I couldn’t help but smile: being lonely sucks, but sometimes it’s nice to know that your life is, at times, at least that out of the ordinary.
