Toluca Substation, now a canvas for graffiti artists, August 2000. Click to enlarge (photo by Bob McMillan)

Entering the tunnel, August 2000. Click to enlarge
(photo by Bob McMillan)

Looking back, about 250 feet in, August 2000. Click to enlarge (photo by Bob McMillan)

An indentation which formerly housed electrical equipment, August 2000. Click to enlarge (photo by Bob McMillan)

Closeup of an electrical panel, August 2000. Click to enlarge (photo by Bob McMillan)

Urban spelunkers, August 2000. Click to enlarge (photo by Bob McMillan)

An intact overhead wire bracket in the roof of the tunnel, August 2000. Click to enlarge (photo by Bob McMillan)

Reaching the end of the tunnel, August 2000. Click to enlarge (photo by Bob McMillan)

Looking at the left side of the end, August 2000. Click to enlarge (photo by Bob McMillan)

The tunnel's end, just below Figueroa Street, August 1994. Click to enlarge (photo by Steve Benson)

Though the tunnel has been abandoned since the 1950s, a curious few have entered the tunnel: namely the homeless, graffiti artists and curious urban explorers.

The right-of-way which leads to the tunnel is blocked off by a locked chain link fence, but a bent section of fence along Lucas Avenue to the west provided easy access; all one has to do is to carefully walk over the fence and walk down the small slope.

The quiet, open area which once contained the mainline tracks and the Toluca storage yard is a stark contrast to the frequent rumbling of the trains that rolled through here nearly half a century ago. A couple homeless people are still asleep in the north side of the property, but the area is totally vacant on an early summer morning.

Walking towards the tunnel, the Toluca Substation, which provided and managed electrical power to the rail line, can be seen. It is totally covered by graffiti, and judging by the type of designs, it is done by aerosol artists rather than gang members. The substation's machinery was removed decades ago.

Now at the mouth of the portal, remnants of a chain-link fence and door can be seen on the right side, but otherwise it is wide-open. Though the tunnel is covered with graffiti and strewn with trash as far as the eye can see, it is actually cleaner than it was previous, where homeless encampments, burned out car bodies and a 3-foot-high wall of trash and dirt once existed. Nowadays, they are all gone, and there are much less obstacles in the way. The air smells slightly foul, but not unbearable.

As the visibility of outside sunlight fades, it is time to turn on the flashlights. Any sort of lighting apparatus is mandatory for walking the tunnel, as eventually it gets pitch dark inside. Another mandatory item is boots or heavy shoes, as one is required to walk over trash, uneven ground, water puddles and mud. Interestingly, as the light fades, so does the trash and graffiti; even the uncertainty of the dark can scare away most vandals and litterers. Also, the foul air gives way to a more natural, damp smell, not unlike those of natural caves.

Sadly, all traces of track are gone. But there are small remnants of the rail line. Ballast pebbles can still be found strewn on the ground, and one can even find a stray railroad spike or two. The walls of the tunnel also bear other signs - indentations in the tunnel walls provideded either safety shelter for tunnel workers from trains or space for electrical equipment. Sections of utility cables can still be found along the upper walls, but all of the catenary is gone. The lone traces of it are a few surviving overhanging wire supports in the tunnel's ceiling.

The tunnel is cleaned out regularly, perhaps once a year. The tracks of bulldozing equipment can be found imprinted on the muddy floor. But the majority of the walkable ground is solid and relatively dry. There are at least two utility pits in the tunnels, about 2 feet deep, all filled with water. Those who decide to walk in the tunnel should look out for them for safety reasons.

Pools, dripping and running water are found in the tunnel because of an underground river that is located adjacent to the tunnel. It is said that this river helps feed the nearby Echo Park Lake, located less than a mile to the north. There is also an abundance of sediment and calcification near water droppings, giving the man-made tunnel some semblance of a natural cave. Young examples of stalactites and stalagmites can also be found.

The tunnel gradually curves towards the southeast, and one can even look back and see a faint ray of sunlight beaming its way into the tunnel, and just a few yards ahead of that, one can even temporarily turn off their flashlight and see pitch darkness.

The end of the tunnel has come. Located several feet below Figueroa Street, it is walled in by concrete with unfinished wooden forms at the top of the tunnel where crews probably either ran out of concrete or just gave up and called it a day. The tunnel was blocked off and filled between just east of the Harbor Freeway and Flower Street (in the Downtown financial district) in 1967 to make way for the foundations of the Union Bank building and the Bonaventure Hotel. A 2-foot-deep pool of water forms a virtual moat to the end of the tunnel.

THE FUTURE OF THE TUNNEL

There is current talk about reviving the Pacific Electric Red Cars in some form as a historic trolley operation. In December, 2000, a 1.5-mile waterfront trolley line using restored and replica Red Cars is planned to open in San Pedro.

In Downtown Los Angeles, there's a proposal floating around to restore the Red Cars on Downtown streets as a tourist attraction and local transit system, akin to San Francisco's Cable Cars. Though the subway is not part of the proposal, it is possible to rehabilitate the tunnel and run trolleys from Downtown to the Echo Park area. Failing that, the tunnel will be part of Los Angeles' "ancient history," only to be discovered and appreciated by the curious few.