First Visit to Tommy Thompson Park: October 3rd, 2017.
I am driving eastbound on Lake Shore Boulevard East past a Canadian Tire, in what is known as the Port Lands of Eastern Toronto; I immediately perceive a drastic shift in the cityscape. Make a right on the lights, on Leslie Street, Gin said. The atmosphere is already dustier here, and the path leading to the park is mostly populated by heavy-duty trucks carrying loads of industrial materials. The establishments I gaze upon metamorphose from Starbucks and Staples to CBM Aggregates, a linguistic shift of seismic proportions indeed. Even though The Beaches community, with its million-dollar homes, is a few kilometres away, the vibe here is more about industrial infrastructure, the streetcar yards at Lake Shore and Leslie, and the hustle and bustle of materials and aggregates of the city of Toronto. The theme here is cement, soil, gravel, salt, limestone, brick, satellites, and waste disposal. This is why I’ve come to this place. I am interested in the industrial unconscious of a city that prides itself on gentrification. The air smells differently in this small stretch of road that leads to the Leslie Street Spit, as it is colloquially known by Torontonians. A subtly acrid hint of ash and burnt rubber blends in with the common smells of any other lacustrine community. Here you are not greeted with the usual blend of exhaust fumes and cannabis smoke. Tommy Thompson Park is the place I am here to explore, to shake hands with.1
The entrance to the park neighbours the Leslie Street Allotment Gardens on the east and Baffinland Iron Mines Corporation now known as Strada Aggregates on the north, and Portlands Energy on the west. On Unwin Avenue, parallel to Leslie, one can see the Toronto Yard, a sizable operation whose space is mantled by monochromatic clusters of indiscernible aggregates: a ubiquitous site in this side of town. A group of satellites are housed near the parking lot of this establishment; an eighteen-wheeler zips by, creating a cloud of dirt that fogs my view; and on this hot summer day, the site has attracted hundreds of cyclists, joggers, and all kinds of nature enthusiasts who are out for a stroll in this strange landscape. As I begin to make my way into the park, through the heavily congested trail, one or two cyclists ring their bells to notify me I must permit their smooth passage. Toronto bikers continue to be an instance of culture shock for me. They have always struck me in the same way that car drivers do by asserting themselves in the battlefield that is San Salvador traffic.
One must walk by these places before entering the park, and I was struck by the presence of satellite dishes in an establishment that deals with aggregates. The satellite dishes are framed by security fences and warning signs alerting pedestrians about the dangers of radiofrequency exposure.2 I considered the warning but took a few shots anyways.
A street on the entrance to Tommy Thompson Park alerts visitors that the vehicular transit of Leslie Street ends at this point. Cars are not permitted inside the main road unless you are headed to dispose of some industrial waste or going to The Aquatic Park Sailing Club. If you are member of this club, their website suggests that you can access by both water and through the main entrance at Leslie Street. By water, members can access via sail or motorboats, or simply by swimming or paddling to the club’s dock.3
The entrance to Tommy Thompson Park is adorned by six signs pertaining to basic regulations and park hours. We are informed that park hours vary from day to evening, being closed from 5:30 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. Monday to Friday. The park is open during these times on weekends and statutory holidays only, but open Monday through Sunday from 4:00 p.m. to 9:00 p.m. I can observe that the park attracts numerous cyclists, as they swoop past me. Among the many signs here, a sign designates 20km/h as the maximum speed. I assume this is meant for those with augmented modes of traveling, like cyclists and skaters. Furthermore, a graphic illustration of a bird suggests that the park attracts a myriad avian species. In a similar way that Paul Virilio’s theory (Virilio 89) of the integral accident suggests the invention of the ship was also the invention of the shipwreck, we see how the sign and the announcement of avian diversity seem to have brough a great number of professional bird watchers and aficionados to the park whose presence and enthusiasm, albeit innocent in nature, poses a threat to the ongoing habitat creation project and demands a myriad of prohibitive warnings from park authorities about the limits of human presence.