About three months ago, a few of us stumbled back into the office from an impulsive, 3-hour odyssey into a tragically forsaken building on Mill Avenue. Thus was born a newfound interest in urban exploration – a clandestine hobby, I learned, that was quite active throughout certain circles. I was surprised to find maps, online boards and other close-knit crowds out there, all sharing experiences, tips and organizing outings.

This past Sunday, a small Keane cadre set out for a second trip. With the wisdom of Google Maps and the helpful pointers of those who'd tread before us, we were able to wander through at least a half-dozen sites, including a wasted airstrip and historic downtown building. Lots of surreptitious sneaking, tight squeezes and dirty knees. And bird shit. Heaps.

Though skirting security and passers-by is an amusing necessity, this isn't so much about the "thrill" of potentially being caught. That kind of rush is too transient to impress. For me, the allure is in understanding our city's backstory and reconciling the fact that rich and ruined often share an alleyway with one another. And, of course, there's definitely the tingling sensation of exploring places not many people go to. Like the kid who dreams of following clues to a lost treasure, the feeling is both ambient and tangible at the same time.

Names/locations purposefully omitted, though the slick gumshoe (or native Phoenician) may not find it difficult to reconstruct our path. Expect more treasure-hunt field reports in the future.

             

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