So this update is a bit later than I intended, but whatever. This one will probably also be quite lengthy.

The complex loomed over us, daunting to myself in all of its vast and dark majesty. The Canadian Malting Plant. My emotions were all quite intense and amongst them were fear and anticipation. The first problem arose when we spotted the two construction workers no doubt posted as night watchmen. We ventured passed them towards the rocks and the water with purpose. They seemed to not mind. Around the side of the complex Mistry began to explain how we would be gaining our entry into the place. I admit now that my mind was far too busy with ponderings of what the interior would hold and of what dangers might await to pay full attention, let alone retain any of the information that was being relayed to me. We would have to wait for the workers to leave before we began. During our wait we admired the interesting stone sculptures, rising like the face of a jagged cliff, and the woeful and somewhat disturbing statues of people staring out at the water. I was given a crash course in the workings of my camera when a duo of photographers came along. We kept to ourselves and they did the same. A photograph of the almost full moon and reflections of city light on the water.

Having hoped that the workers had finally moved on, despite their light and generator being left running, we made our way back to the front of the complex. Alas, they had only moved to their truck. We carried on to scout out the other side. The gate leading to the back had been left open to accommodate a truck. Alas, at that side as well there was a person. This, a man with his dog. I was shown where I could crawl under the fence if I chose that over climbing up. We also took notice that someone else had already been into the CMP that night for there was a ladder on the other side of the interior fence. Suddenly we were saved much work and given a way to get in without attracting the attention of the two workers about the other side of the complex. It was discussed at some point along our walk to the side we'd be infiltrating that I'd never actually climbed a chain link fence. We concluded that it would be for the best to get some practice in on a baseball diamond near the immediate grounds. Climbing up proved much easier than I would have thought, and so we idled away time, waiting for the man and his dog to move on, atop of the diamond. A light in the top of the building we would be entering caught our attention. We went about testing our flashlights by shinning them up at this mysterious light. We pondered wether or not the light was, in fact, from another person or just a reflection of a light situated on the ground. Perhaps we would meet another group. After several minutes, however, it was concluded that it was more than likely a reflection as the light had not once moved. We climbed back down and I put yet another hole in my pants.

The man and his dog were still up to their business upon our next check, but as we took seats to wait for him to leave they began to walk off. Finally our chance. We made haste to the fence, Mistry holding it up for me to slip under then climbing up and over himself. It was at this point that the dog man began to come back. We hurried to the far end of the fence and were forced to climb back up and over. Mistry made it just fine thanks to his experience. I fell off the first try then got snagged at the top. "You better got off that fast!" came the voice of the approaching dog man. I did as he suggested and we both made a quick getaway to the other side of the complex. The workers had again moved to their picnic table. Slightly annoyed but feeling a rush, at least on my part at any rate, we continued back to the sculptures and the water. The photographers were still wandering about and there were now two other women there, talking and enjoying the atmosphere. We sat by the water, Mistry on an old tire attached to the side of a wall, myself with my feet dangling over the water. After awhile the two women left and we ventured back to the "cliff face." I learned more about shooting in manual and we began to chat with the photographers. Mistry climbed part of the stonework, and the male photographer began to ponder climbing to the top for a few good shots. His shoes proved to lack the grip and his nerve proved to fall short of getting higher than halfway. Mistry took the challenge and went to the top, not sure of how he would later get back down without shattering his legs. Several pictures were taken and his slow journey back down was aided by the male photographer trying to help him find places to step. Truly he is a man who has earned the name "Spider-Asian." It was time. We returned to the other side.

The dog man was finally, thankfully, gone. We took the chance, me under the fence, Mistry over it. We stood before the next fence, chain link with sheets of steel on the other side and a steep lip at the top. Mistry explained how it would be and told me it would have to be done fast due to the noise of metal on metal. He went up. The chain link was easy, getting beyond that, well, let's just say that I qualify as a praying man now. Getting my feet onto the small, slightly slanted, concrete ledge was terrifying. Finding out my boots wouldn't grip on the even more slanted metal ledge was paralyzing. I was assured that there was no going back now and so I forced myself beyond my fear of falling and went up. Sure that my bladder would give at any second. I crossed to the other side of the fence with tears of pure terror welling up in my eyes. Going down the ladder was easier. Standing on the ground on the other side was one of the most incredible feelings I had ever had. I had to rely on my arms to get over the fence and I'd never believed that they had the strength to lift me like that. Learning otherwise and just standing there on solid ground most people would never be able to reach, I felt alive. Little did I know I was a few seconds away from being ready to pass out again... The interior yard was covered in bits of debris and wild plants were growing here and there, sprinkled about with haphazard by nature. The group before us had used a wooden skid and broken cinder blocks to get up to the ladder they placed in an opening in a fence on the second floor. We would be using two ladders. Mistry held the first in place while I climbed up, mortified that I would have to move to another ladder. I stood, frozen at the top of the first ladder when my hands hit the next and it swung back and forth. I was reassured that it wouldn't go anywhere and was fixed in place better than it seemed. Once I mounted it I was told that I should probably climb up it at a quick pace. This canceled out the reassurance that the ladder would not fall. I scrambled up and through the opening, ready to kiss the concrete at the top. My flashlight helped to guide Mistry's climb up and soon we were both on the low roof. Again I had that feeling that I still cannot fully place.

Our way into the actual building was through an old, smashed window. The interior was incredible. The age and desolation of the place and the absolute quite took in all of my senses. We took the old and rusted stairs down in a spiral. The first floor was full of pipes and there was a passage leading into the next room. We walked through and came across what some websites called the toy cemetery. An erie pile of mildewed plush dolls. A face down Cookie Monster, a Cabbage Patch doll missing its jaw, a large something with all of the stuffing torn out and so on and so forth. Beyond that was the stairwell leading down into the basements. It was filled with murky water. The rubber duck floating off in a corner, back to use, staring at the wall was by far one of the most unsettling things I have ever seen.

End part 2.
Part three will be up sometime before the conclusion of Saturday and will cover the rest of the CMP infiltration. Thanks for reading.