Hundreds of local and national businesses carry on their day-to-day activities in mysterious and strange places around the city known as industrial parks. 

Now, these “parks” don’t contain any natural beauty. Instead they accommodate a range of business types, from sprawling, hardcore industrial manufacturers to esoteric retailers. That so many seemingly obscure businesses can turn enough profit to stay afloat is baffling. The scope of these industries in E-Town is nothing short of incredible, and really, it’s what this city is all about—or at least what it’s becoming more and more about, whether we like it or not. I took a tour through Edmonton’s burgeoning new “parks” system to debunk some of their industrial mysteries. 

And I was surprised by my findings: the next time you’re enjoying a nice serving of Cheemo perogies, pat yourself on the back. You’re eating locally. Those little dumplings of joy are made in the west end on a seldom-visited avenue in the heart of Mitchell industrial park. The guys who installed the light poles on Anthony Henday Drive? They’re in the neighbourhood too. The boys who wired your house probably bought their cable somewhere around here, and the lumber likely came from the Home Depot holding yard just across the Yellowhead. 

That mattress on which you shag your significant other may have come from Sealy’s west-end plant. As a general rule, one does not fuck with the guys at the Nut and Bolt House. If you don’t know a 5/16-inch drillbit from a 9/32-inch, don’t even show up. Lonely, card-only diesel fillup centers and mile-high truck junkyards reside side by side. And let’s not forget the Trinidad and Tobago cultural centre, sandwiched between a mobile communications company and a hot tub manufacturer on 123 Avenue. 

The city’s southside industrial areas house an equally diverse and bizarre array of businesses and services. Next door to an electrical wholesaler you’ll find an Indian cultural centre that hosts weddings and special events. The massive Ferrier transit garage is located just south of Wagner High School on 86 Street, and there’s a Taekwondo dojo across the street. Beside an apparently unused, empty field, the neon sign of a ramshackle convenience store blinks and buzzes. On the same block one can purchase a fire alarm system, a pool table, 100 feet of plumbing pipe, and 500 decorative balloons. (All you need then is a can of whipped cream and you’ll be ready for a helluva Saturday night.)

Amongst the many strange and ultra-specialized businesses, there are the open-for-lunch-only greasy spoons. The majority of these establishments are of the handwritten-sign variety, perpetually on the verge of closure for health violations. Donairs, burgers, and Chinese seem to be the thing, and mostly popular with the hardhat crowd. The low-rent drinking halls, such as Trav’s just off 51 Avenue on 97 Street, are packed to the nuts at 5 p.m. every day and dead empty by 9 or 10. Aside from the diehard Golden Tee-playing Jäger-pounders, you won’t find a soul there on the weekends.

Industrial parks are places of seldom-considered activity that operate on a strict nine-to-five schedule. They’re furiously busy during the day and ghost towns in the evening and on weekends. They’re the beating heart of this ever-growing city of industry.

So, the next time you ask yourself, “What goes on in those places?”, think steel toes and Cheemo perogies.