When it comes to massive drains Niagara really takes a lot to beat. The now defunct power generating infrastructure that once littered the area has given way to a multitude of tunnels and tailraces that on their own easily justify a trip to Canada. Tonight we planned on visiting one of those tunnels. The William B. Rankine Generating Station Tailrace.

The local law enforcement seem to be aware of drainer activity, often scanning bushes and tree lines with their lights. I suppose being in another country you could probably blag the dumb tourist excuse, its Niagara there are certainly a lot around, although i doubt it would work when your carrying waders, torches and camera equipment. For the most part the journey would take us out of the eye sight of patrolling cars, there was just a small stretch that had to be overcome first.

Bags packed we were good to go. We strolled down to the cliffs edge and played tourist for a while looking at the falls until the coast was clear. We swiftly headed down the slope towards the waters edge and the dark shell of the Ontario generating station. This building was a sight in itself, fallen rocks from the gorge surrounded the site, it looked like someone had poorly tried to bury the building with dynamite. Jumping the fence we ran up to the building and scaled the debris onto its roof. The bricks creaked and crunched underfoot, ice causing the occasional slip and camera flashes from tourists lit the skies above. But none of that mattered, after all look where we were, the American falls to our left and the Canadian horseshoe dead ahead. We were still tourists, but we had the best view in the house.

After equipping our waders we began the trek up and over the fallen rocks to the outfall. Exposure to the mist from the falls meant the rocks were covered in ice and practically impossible to stand on. Adding this to the fact your standing at the top of a very steep cliff with freezing water at the bottom made every rock shift feel like you were heading for the drink.

Twenty minutes, a bruised ass and three cut fingers later we stood just meters away from the Rankine outfall. Saying it was impressive still sounds like an understatement. People who had visited before spoke of getting soaked before getting anywhere near the tunnel. ''Your going to get very wet, but it only adds to the adventure'', yet here we stood, practically bone dry ready to go. Maybe it was just our luck with the weather, but we weren't complaining. As we climbed into the mouth the falls turned red sending the entire area into darkness. Torches on? Lets go.

The tunnel itself was a red brick giant leading roughly a kilometer into the darkness, ending at the wheel pit. Jets of water sprang out from the brickwork and rained down from above, a soft roaring sound audible in the distance. As we drew closer to the sound the condition of the tunnel worsened. The jets became an assault course for those who wanted to stay dry. Ten minutes later we reached our goal, the wheel pit.

Staying dry was now impossible, no matter which tetris block you managed to contort your body into there was still no dry way of getting through. Water was coming from the roof, the walls, from suspended pipes and even shooting up from the floor. To give you a rough idea, think about James Cameron's version of Titanic when the sh** was hitting the fan on the lower decks, a bit like that. Photo time.

As we had been shooting all day i decided it was time to swap out the memory cards. Out with the old, in with the new. Now to put the old one in the bag. Errr?, well that was the plan. I looked in my hand where the memory card should have been but it wasn't there, in fact it wasn't anywhere, gone, sacrificed to the drain gods of the falls.

There is a certain skill to navigating the Rankine tunnel in darkness while taking a long exposure. Remembering where the water was coming from just before you turned off your torch was vital. Sadly this was a skill i did not posses, walking the wrong way while heading back to my camera, straight under a large jet of ice cold fail. With my energy to take more photos now gone we packed up and headed back to the outfall.

For almost five years i had dreamt of visiting the Rankine Tailrace, the pictures posted online forever haunting my sleep. As we climbed out and back onto the generating station the rushing from the outfall got quieter and quieter and eventually mixed into the drone of the falls as it vanished from sight. The journey, the views and the tunnel itself, just incredible.