By day, the woods in the Lower Don Parklands are visited by the dedicated volunteers who have tended to them for the city of º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøsince 2017. They’ve been transforming the land, slowly and with great care, from an industrial site to a thriving habitat for wildlife.
At night, strobe lights illuminate the trees.ÌýDaring youth come to the area to push the bounds of techno music at raves in front of large audiences. They say they’ve been forced into the urban wilderness byÌýToronto’s noise bylaws and the province’s Byzantine party permitting system.ÌýIn the process, they could be riskingÌýtens of thousands of dollars in fines and possible jail timeÌý.
The two groups have coexisted for at leastÌýa decadeÌý— until this summer. The volunteers say a series of recent raves obliterated years of re-naturalization work in the Cottonwood Flats area.
The largest had several hundred attendees, some of whom drove into the area in rented trucks and stayed all night, leaving behind toilet paper, feces, cigarette butts, beer cans, glowsticks, pills and tire tracks, the volunteersÌýsay.ÌýRave organizers dispute this, saying they cleaned up most everything that wasn’t biodegradable.Ìý
“This is devastating,” said Lynn Miller, president ofÌýº£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøField Naturalists, as she walked through the remains of one of her cherished plots of land. The ground was all dirt and boot prints and small felled trees.
“This just wiped out three years of work. We put in so many plants here. This was one of our main planting areas.”
Two of the promoters of the largest gathering in the flats this summer told the Star they feel remorse for the damage they may have caused and believed they had taken steps to mitigate it.
Still, they say they have no plans to stop hosting underground ravesÌýthroughout Toronto, which they say add to the vibrancy of the city and help “build strong communities.”
“Not only is the city losing creative spaces, music venues, art spaces, but also many free public gatherings, once part of our cultural landscape, have been shut down,”ÌýsaidÌýOctavian Cadabeschi, chair of theÌý, one of the rave organizers,Ìýin an email.
“Cities are living, breathing things, made up of many people sharing space, and of many cultures and values existing simultaneously and finding ways to be good neighbours.”
Forest plants trampled underfoot
Miller and her fellows had painstakingly cared for these plots, tearing out invasive species and seeding the soil with the plants best suited for local insects and wildlife.Ìý

Lynn Miller shows what’s left of one of the many sites of restored native plants that she and other volunteers have been monitoring since 2017.Ìý
Michelle Mengsu Chang º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøStOf the 10 small areas they had worked on, two were completely destroyed this summer. According to Miller, there’s no more white pine for the chickadees, or large-tooth aspen for butterflies and baby birds in these areas. Several of the other plant species they had cultivated are also gone from these spaces, pummelled into nothing, she added.
In fact, the only living thing growing out of the forest dance floor now is buckthorn, she said, an invader that gives birds diarrhea so severe it can kill the smaller ones.Ìý
It may be impossible to regrow some of it. “The soil was already no good,” said Miller. “It’s hard to dig into because of all the rocks and debris.
“Getting things to grow here is tricky. Now, it’ll be even trickier. The soil is all compacted, people have stomped all over it.”
The land won’t regenerate for a long time, she said, and when it does, it’ll be much easier for the invasive plants to spring back up than the beneficial ones.
“I’m very angry,” she said. “I’m angry because of the disrespect people have for nature. But I’m also angry at the city because nobody came out to stop it.”
A spokesperson for the city said staff installed signage to deter ravers, after receiving 311 complaints.
“We take the preservation of this sensitive habitat seriously,” said Elise von Scheel.Ìý“Staff will continue to monitor the area, investigate complaints and take action when issues are identified.”
Though the city has also installed bollards to stop vehicles from accessing the area, the ravers have gotten around them.
Local councillor Paula Fletcher said she is considering asking council this fall to further impede car access into the flats.ÌýÌý
“It’s terrible,” she said of the raves. “It’s the wild, wild east when something like this happens. The whole place had been tended with love and care by the field naturalists and others.”
‘I was awake all night’
Monica Sauer can’t say how many raves happened in the flats over the summer. She heard at least four from her home nearby. But the big one was on the second Saturday in August.
“I was awake all night,” she said. “Cars were going by with their music blaring, people were walking up and down the hills all night long. I called 311 at 5 a.m. and they told me they’ll send someone out within 10 days. I’m like ‘Well, that’s gonna be totally useless.’”
In the morning after the big party, Sauer tried to confront the ravers. She said she was rebuffed.

A pink flag on damaged land cleared of plants, marking where Lynn Miller and other volunteers used to monitor the restoration of native plants.
Michelle Mengsu Chang º£½ÇÉçÇø¹ÙÍøSt“They said, ‘Mind your own business, b——,’” she said. “One of them gave me the finger, so I gave him the finger back.”Ìý
After the tents had been torn down and U-Haul trucks driven off, Sauer said she was left with an alarming sightÌý— and smell.
“You can imagine, between 11, 12 at night and 8 in the morning, people have to go to the bathroom,” she said. “So there was human feces everywhere.
“This other woman was very upset because her dog had gotten into it. They had probably been doing drugs so the dogs and wildlife were ingesting a certain amount of it.”
This scenario isn’t necessarily a medical emergency, according to Trisha Dowling, professor emerita in the department of veterinary biomedical sciences at the University of Saskatchewan. Most drugs are excreted through urine, she said, with the exception of THC from cannabis, which is fat soluble.Ìý
A ‘crisis of social isolation’
The musicians who organized the raves say they’re a celebration of their art and an antidote to the “growing crisis of social isolation” in the city.ÌýÌý
“We have always been diligent in ensuring that garbage, cans, cigarette butts, and any refuse that isn’t biodegradable is removed,” said Cadabeschi of SubLunar, which helped organize the Aug. 9 rave.
“We ask participants to help, and then our volunteers sweep the area afterwards to make sure we did not miss anything. We are absolutely certain we did that at this event as well,” saidÌýCadabeschi. “If we missed something, it was because we were uninformed of the work these horticulture societies are doing, for which we sincerely apologize.”

Photos of the event in Cottonwood Flats on Aug. 9 posted to social media by Acid Reign Productions.Ìý
Acid Reign ProductionsIn a statement to the Star, , a group that promotes underground raves and helped with the Aug. 9 event, said its members also tried to clean up as best they could, carrying out more than a dozen garbage bags.
Both rave organizers said they had spoken with a horticulturalist prior to the event who had assured them hosting a rave in the area would not cause any harm.
“What you shared is concerning, especially the ecological aspects,” the Acid Reign statement read. “Caring for the environment is central to what we do and something we remind our community of before they attend, on signs at the event, and we ask people over the sound system to make sure to grab a piece of trash if they see any on the way out.”
The group said because this was not a city-sanctioned event, it could not get permission to install portable toilets, thus “people most likely pooped in the woods.”
This night was just one episode in the “decade-long story” of it attempting to find venues that are both accessible for guests and remote enough to not disturb people living nearby, according to Acid Reign. Cottonwood Flats has been the site of underground raves for years because it was thought to be exemplary in this regard.Ìý
Acid Reign said it would “much rather” host in larger venues, such as Cherry Beach or “under a downtown bridge,” but “the city aggressively shuts us down when we do.”
Coun. Chris Moise told the Star he was considering deferring his motion until he could consult
“We have attempted permits many times and have fought with law enforcement over what constitutes permitted gatherings and amplified noise bylaws,” according to its statement.
Cadabeschi said he and his peers want to be good neighbours to the naturalists.
“We would be happy to work with other groups and to improve our practices so as to ensure that we do not negatively impact their important work for the people of Toronto,” he said. “So long as they are willing to work with us.”
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