The excursion I had was so elongated and full of picture taking that it actually requies two posts to sum up a small portion of it. Firstly, there is this sketchy bridge we had to cross that had no sides and the only discernible footing was the rickety boards that the train rails sat upon.
Under that same bridge (I think it was the same one, it could have been different) there was a memorial for an 18 year old man named Trevor Babin...We came to the conclusion that he had either accidentally fallen off the bridge or fell of while in a drunken stupor, because the words of memory did mention drinking's involvement in his death.