As this is a continuation of my August column, let’s pause a beat to catch you up. One sunny day in 1972, my twin brother, Terry, and I ventured further outside the comfortable confines of Leaside on our bikes than we ever had before. These two intrepid 12-year-old explorers thought it would be a fun idea to ride down into the Don Valley for the very first time. What we failed to consider was that after the exhilaration of coasting down a long, steep hill, the exhaustion of the ride back up would inevitably follow. For our return ascent into Leaside, we opted to ride up the Bayview Extension to avoid the mud on what is now the Beltline Trail. That won’t be remembered as our best decision as we found ourselves on a longer and steeper route home with cars and trucks flying by directly beside us.
During a break at the side of the road we decided to detour and explore the “White Elephant,” the unfinished, derelict seven-storey apartment building on the edge of Leaside. You may feel that this is the second questionable decision we made in the space of a half hour, but our 12-year-old selves would beg to differ. We were intrepid thrill-seekers – risk and danger be damned – so off we went.
The construction of this eyesore of an apartment block began in the late ’50s to much fanfare and anticipation. But the building permit was revoked when a dispute arose when the Township of East York would not service the site with water and sewage facilities.
The upshot of it all was that work stopped and never resumed. For over 20 years, the unfinished building stood on a hill overlooking the Don Valley – no doors, no windows, no elevators, no stairs – just an empty shell begging to be explored.
We found a gaping hole in the fence (even bigger than the gaping hole in our judgment) and rode right in. Rather than simply walking through an open doorway on the ground floor, we thought it would be much safer to shimmy up a 12-inch-wide plank to a second storey balcony 15 feet above us. Miraculously, we made it in unscathed and started looking around. We’d heard all the rumours of wild parties, a clandestine commune and even squatters living in this concrete bunker of a building, so we were quiet and careful as we tiptoed around.
The short story is that it was dark, cold and damp, there was nothing to see, with no signs of life or activity anywhere – the very definition of anticlimactic. But our friends didn’t need to know that! As far as they were concerned, we had conquered Mt. Everest and tested our 12-year-old limits in a whole new way. Our parents certainly would have disagreed, but we didn’t come clean to them about this little adventure until we were 25 years old, long after the statute of limitations had passed. That helped us avoid what surely would have been a two-week grounding in 1972.
After much legal wrangling, the White Elephant was finally demolished in 1981, much to the relief of the Leaside community. Years later, a brand-new subdivision sprang up in its place, bringing an end to this protracted and contentious community saga.
For me, biking in and around Leaside was always exciting and liberating as a kid. When we weren’t zooming through the neighbourhood or nearby parks, we were jumping ramp-to-ramp in front of our house like Evel Knievel. Riding here is still a joy as an adult for this nostalgic rider even without a ramp or an abandoned building to explore. Here’s to the next ride!
