The NoPo Urban Adventure league

Last night I went with four other explorers ( code named Cpt. Sky-wolf, Storm Wolf, Beowulf and Cockeye) on an adventure underneath the depths of Portland. Captain Skywolf reported on this underground tunnel located in the West hills at the border of Forest Park. ( Thurman and 29th)





Getting into the tunnel was a challenge, it begins as a large stream that disappears into a concrete tunnel, the entrance from view by a strange wood lattice covering. Climbing down to the entrance is a bit of a drop so we dropped a nearby log into the hole to shimmy down. At the mouth of the tunnel we found an abandoned back pack with a cd player and other random shit. Someone said " looks like one of the last guys here didn't make it back," and then headed into the underground.



I had hopes that the entrance would snake it's way towards beneath downtown, and possibly hook up with the legendary Shanghai tunnels beneath Portland.


In the beginning the tunnel was fairly wide and we could stand quite easily. Shin deep water flows along the bottom. The sound of our boots slosh-sloshing and echoing, in what was basically a mile long echo tube, was constant.



Ten minutes down the rabbit hole and I dropped the bike light I was using as a flash light, it was swept away by the current. Luckily I had also brought a lighter and a small candle. Most of the graffiti was at the beginning. Some of it was incredibly skillful - especially considering it was in a place where few would ever see it. Pentagrams and devil heads seemed to be a major theme.



A few hundred yards, after the graffiti died off, things took a sharp turn. The decline became steeper - it was like climbing down a concrete water tube slide. The tunnel grew smaller so that we had to hunch over for the rest of the journey. Time, distance and place began to distort. We slogged on another 45 minutes and began to hear a distant roar of perhaps large hydro-turbine or subterranean waterfall. I estimate we traveled well over a mile beneath the posh houses of the West Hills.



The sounds of our voices echoed and carried far off only to return warped and distorted. I began to experience a strange sense of vertigo. It didn't help things at all that I recently had watched the Descent ( about a group of spelunkers who get eaten by savage, evil, cave monkeys).


When we had been underground for an hour and a half four of us decided it was time to return. We were running low on supplies - especially beer.


On the way back we went for stretches with our headlights turned off to fully experience the darkness. It was trippy - a few minutes of perfect darkness and you lose all sense of direction, the walls seem to drop away and become vast, you can't tell if you are going up or down, the darkness was visceral - you could feel it clinging to your face.

Right near the end of the tunnel, as we approached the fresh light of stars I took off my helmet and then, of course, immediately cracked my head - hard, against a low hanging metal box, resulting in a Fred Flintsone sized lump this morning.



I love getting into situations where just don't know what's around the corner - it makes you appreciate normal, everyday, life.