Continued from here.

As you walk under the tangled concrete limbs of two Skytrain lines and the First Avenue viaduct, where the mythical Crested Myna once roamed, you come across a place called The Picnic. I've always been hesitant to tell people about The Picnic for fear of 'heating up' the place for the many talented graff artists who take advantage of the Burlington Northern train lot's lax security. There is a big security camera on a pole immediately as you approach the area, but its usually pointed towards the Rocky Mountaineer and CN side of the lot. Not only are local bombers up on display but so are tags from all across America. Also, if you look closely at the train cars you'll notice some smaller scribbles, usually in grease pen or chalk, called monikers, written by hobos and railroad workers. Also, look for magic mushrooms in the fall that gather along the rotting wood railway ties. Exit through a hole in the fence at the back of Kirmac Collision.

Update: wacqueline posted an excellent link to a Vancouver Magazine article, outlining both Ladner and Robertson. It can be found here.

Since we learned a little bit about Peter Ladner last week, it's only fair to find out at least a little about the man who holds the top spot for Vision Vancouver. Once again, I can't say that I know the man, or much about him personally. I did see him buying various berries at the Kitsilano Farmers Market, so if that counts for something, there you go.

I wasn't planning on this walk, which is the great thing about drifting, and I didn't take any psychogeograpic notes, but at 84 photographs I realized that this slideshow, one day's worth of snaps, is a good study on its own. Most of these photographs are on the south alley of Hastings, but I do cross over when I get to the train tracks at Raymur. The light lately has had an eery orange glow to it (did China use huge fans to blow all their pollution across the Pacific for the Olympics?), so the mood was enhanced. Also, there is about an hour missing (I was at Taxes rehearsal!), but you'd want to time so that you're walking back at about 8. Generally the walk offers a sampling of graffitti, drugs, prostitutes, incense, community gardens, shadows, slanting sheds, and the tranquility of light industry. Enjoy.

Instead of a Vancouver History today, I wanted to write about the current mayoral campaign. With all the Eby and Robertson boners flying around here at BeyondRobson, I thought I would ask the question on none of our minds: Who the F#@K is Peter Ladner?

A recent discussion has developed on the topic of Woodwards, now that it dominates the downtown's easternmost skyline, by the blog Vancity Buzz whom, despite their unbridled enthusiasm for the project, I commend. I am not anti-Woodwards, something that puts me apart from other advocates for social change such as the AC, a group I've been accused of associated with, albeit falsely. But you must remember that we fought tooth and nail for the meager portions allotted to us, as a single brick facade is all that is left of the iconic department store. The point of the squat was, among other things, immediacy. In Europe, there is a proud tradition of squatting. City planners should view this temporary housing a blessing not a bane, as it fills the vacuum created by whatever historical/political/cultural/social/economic trends that happen to manipulate the urban landscape at the time. In the case of the DTES, the closing of Woodwards will only be mitigated by its reopening. In other words, the only vacuum it will fill is the one originally created when it abandoned the neighborhood.

Furthermore, what is being done to alleviate the condo mania that the Woodwards Development has ignited? So far Paris Block, Ginger, East, Terminus, V6A, and Concord Pacific's recent discovery of the DTES, have all contributed a total of zero units of social housing, while cashing in on the cheap real estate.

What with the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony last week, I felt it appropriate to conclude my series on Vancouver Riots with a discussion of the 2010 Olympics. Will this city party down hard or spiral into pandemonium and rage? Maybe both?