I splashed my way upstream until I could no longer see the entrance. I think it's fair to say that this was not, per se, a "drain" in the classic sense -- that is, it didn't have navigable connections to the city's storm drain network -- but rather a very long culvert which also worked as a storm drain at night and hoped its parents didn't find out. It was drained into at several points, but it seemed generally to be a stand-alone deal. It was also, I believe, very very old.
The first thing that struck me (figuratively and literally) was something Asher had mentioned -- the cobwebs. They were everywhere, hanging heavy with years of dust and assorted microdebris. I dodged them where I could, for the sake of not plastering myself with them and in an attempt to disrupt as little of the drain's environment as I could. These things were all part of the experience of being down there, and it would be a shame to ruin it for explorers to come.
The height of the drain sloped up and down by several inches as I went. Sometimes I could walk almost comfortably, and sometimes I was stooped over in half, splashing bow-legged down the tunnel. Happily, there was no crawling or crouching to be done.
With my flashlight off, I could see the odd spot of daylight up ahead shining in through surface-side drains and manholes. These were a nice place to stand up, stretch, and take a breath of fresh air before going on my way.

The first few hundred feet of the drain were more or less unremarkable, save the odd manhole, tubes draining in (and out -- these were halfway up the walls and I suspect they served as overflow protection) and lots of cobwebs. There was no graffiti to be seen past the entrance -- it was practically untouched.
At one point I came across several pieces of iron in various shapes. I picked one up that was vaguely heart-shaped at decided that it, in all its drippy and garbage-strung glory, could be my Souvenir(tm). I had only walked a few dozen feet with it before I realized just how gross it was, and set it down in a dry spot to pick up on my way back.
As I made my way down the tunnel I came to a particularly webbish spot, where I found myself practically on my knees to get under the hanging cobwebs. Finally I shone my flashlight up and saw, right in front of me, a gigantic cobweb stretching across the entire upper quarter of the tunnel, hanging down to halfway in the middle. It was really quite magnificent, as far as these things go. An absolute palace among discarded cobwebs, and I couldn't for the life of me imagine how Asher and her partner made it under it. My first inclination, of course, was to burn it.
I pulled a lighter out of my bag, entertained some brief cautionary thoughts about things like methane, and flicked up a meager flame (there was a slight air current in the tunnel). I held it to a particularly low part of the cobweb, near the middle, and nothing happened. I kept the flame on it for a while longer and the web began to turn red-hot, the tunnel filled with a charred scent, but the thing would not burn.
I put my lighter away in disbelief and crawled respectfully under the web. Despite all its dusty and webbish grandeur, I wasn't truly impressed by the thing until it actively resisted an attempt to destroy it. That, I decided, was a very cool cobweb. I made a mental note to ask Asher if she had any pictures of it.
Unable to handle the excitement of unburnable spider webs, I made my way on down the tunnel, ducked some rusty pipe, ran under some very drippy manholes, saw the fabled raccoon lavatory and found myself suddenly able to stand up straight in an area Asher had dubbed "The Room".
I was quite impressed with this chamber. It had wooden supports running along the ceiling and a sort of crawlspace made of concrete and wood on either side. The floor above me was a dark wood and it thrilled me to think that whatever this building that I was under actually was, I'll bet nobody ever thought this was under their feet when they walked across that floor. Perhaps some kid at some point had noticed that when he jumped or knocked on the floor at this point, it sounded slightly different than in other places... but he never would have thought (and wouldn't he have been overjoyed to discover!) that there was this bizarre, wet, dirty microcosm underneath him. I immediately decided that if I had trouble squeezing my way back out of the drain, my alternate exit would be to smash through this floor.
But enough about fictional children. I shone my light around the room and saw what I could see -- rolls of fence wire, metal grills of various designs, lots of wood. There was a tiny stump with some bent nails in it and I believe I saw a load-bearing stack of kindling. This place was as thick with cobwebs as any, but the first few feet were more or less clear of them, likely due to Asher creeping about with her camera. Thank you, Asher.
I stared about and walked a bit further. From the end of The Room, the other end of the Queen's Drain was visible -- this one was blocked with a metal grid which there was no way I was going to get through. I went right up to it to see where it came out (which was near an AT&T office building and right in the middle of some cheap, redneck-ridden housing), then went back to play with The Room some more.
The whole time I was underground I was looking at everything, examining things and just enjoying what was around me, as the whole Thing about draining dictates. However, I'd spent all afternoon rushing about, avoiding people who were yelling at me about being on their property and taking backroads everywhere, and this nervous momentum along with some anxiety at the back of my mind over whether or not I would be able to get back out made my journey through the drain a little more above-groundish than it should have been. I walked a little too fast, didn't look at things quite closely enough and all things considered just never quite got my draining Zen on. Don't get me wrong, the trip was enjoyable, interesting and certainly filled my day, but I'd like to go back sometime when I'm a little more mellow.
Once I'd had my fill of The Room, I turned to go back into the more traditional part of the drain -- and realized that the entrance to the drain from The Room had once been fenced off. All around the circular tunnel mouth was a series of rusted metal wire stubs, configured in what had obviously once been a grid. Someone, at some point, had taken a pair of boltcutters to it, and done no shy job of it either. Kudos to the mystery drainer.

Before I left the room, a niggling urge that had been working at me the whole time I'd been there finally got the best of me. Unable to resist the temptation any longer, I reached up through the cobwebs and rapped very loudly on the floor above me.
So I made my way back through the drain. I ducked the pipes, went under the cobwebs, saw some more wood above me and realized I was under another building, passed the raccoon lavatory, opted not to pick up my still-very-disgusting rusted Souvenir(tm), stepped in a wet animal nest, pushed on a circle of rusty, flaky metal just to see what it was, and splashed my way back to the entrance.
I saw a set of raccoon prints here, which I very nearly stepped on. In keeping with my decision not to disturb the drain, I moved to the other side. I took off my coat and backpack, hung them up, and squeezed my wiry frame once more through the gap. I pulled my things through the gap and was once again back in the real world, one drain richer.
As I took off my hat and examined my backpack, I realized just how futile my resolution not to disturb the drain had been. My hat was brown with thick strands of web and my backpack was literally covered with them. They were so thick on it that they looked artificial, like Halloween decorations. It was a frighteningly gothic effect, all things considered.
Covered in mud, dust, dirt, cobwebs and rust, I clambered my way back up the side of the creek in that sort of daze one generally enters after leaving forty minutes underground for all the bright colours and flashing lights of the world above. Some people crossing the bridge over the drain entrance gave me a glance, but only a short one. I suppose they figured I was homeless, or something of the design.
I called PrussianSnow to try to get a ride home -- he declined. As such I made my way to the bus terminal and caught a bus home. Myself, my bag and my newly-acquired smell of pungent wet earth each had a seat to ourselves. Surprise, surprise. Most people tried to avoid looking at me.
And here I am, back at home.
I have to say that this drain, despite my vague anxiety all the way through (which hopefully will be diminished in any future visit now that I know I can definitely get in and out), was an interesting and rewarding trip. While short by most classic definitions, I felt that it was just about the perfect length for what it contained -- and as far as drains go, the Featureless-Plodding-to-Cool-Stuff ratio was extremely good. I'd recommend a visit to this drain to anyone who can fit into it. I feel it would make a good trip for neophytes, as well -- it offers many of the features one would face in larger drains (and lacks several, such as ladders and pits), but not in irritating or dangerous excess. That and the will required to squeeze one's self through the entrance is really a hell of a thing. ;)
I also have to give many extravagant kudos to Asher and her partner, for actually forcing themselves through that gap without the express knowledge of it having been done before. For all they knew they could get stuck halfway through and suffocate, with no room for their chest or ribs to expand. Most of the people I know, in Asher's place, would have tried a couple of the bolts and come back with a report that the gate would have to be knocked out with a sledgehammer. Obviously, I'm duly impressed with Asher's ambition in just Going The Hell For It.
So, yes. A very cool drain. Check out.
--Flame0ut

Path
- When you reach the entrance of the drain you must slip through two bars, they are rusted on and will not budge. So don't worry when you realize that the bars you have to fit through are almost at the top and diagonal.
- Once you have got inside of the drain get a feel for the environment; feel the cement, touch some cobwebs...
- Once you begin your journey try to stay on the dry areas, that is until you reach the area a raccoon likes to use as a lavatory. Then I suggest you get your feet wet. Hey, it's your choice.
- After walking for awhile you will reach a place where you can stand straight up, yippy. Remember as you are leaving this area there are several large steel pipes crossing in front of you.
- Once you have ducked under/jumped these pipes you will one again be in a very confined place. I like to say cozy. Eventually this will end, but will return.
- Again you come to a place you can stand straight up. Alas! This place is very different! Watch your head when you first walk in there is a board with steel spikes in it directly above the opening. This place is directly underneath a building. It has a small crawlspace, however, it is filled with cement and wood. Never-the-less, you can explore it. This is perhaps the most interesting place in the drain. When you are there you can hear the people walking above you, nifty. It is all fun, but then you realize you are near the end of the tunnel...
- So you move on, back to that confined space. One day a measurement will go here! And then you see the light. No it's not death, or heaven, or whatever. It's the end of the tunnel. Oh, despair. It is a rather disappointing ending to be quite honest. I will let you see for yourself.
- Then it's time to head back, or jump out, whatever you choose.
- As one walks through the tunnel they will find all kinds of neat little crevasse. There's something for everyone.
-Asher

[And once more, while these old photos are lovely and all, do be sure to check out the new photo gallery they'll likely be assimilated into eventually. :D]