After more than 75 years serving the Cambridge community in Waterloo Region, the pins fell for the last time at Dickson Bowl on May 7, 2017. The longtime family-run business sold the land to a developer with plans to build apartments, marking the end of an era.

Dickson Bowl had been a cornerstone of the community, moving to a new building on Ainslie Street in 1978 and continuing operations until its closure in 2017. Its story is part of a larger trend; several long-standing bowling alleys in Waterloo Region, including Waterloo Lanes (opened 1949, closed 2013) and Towne Bowl in Kitchener (closed after more than 60 years), have shut down in recent years due to financial pressures and redevelopment.

The developer who purchased the Cambridge site soon ran into financial difficulties, and the property, which was once listed for $4.25 million, has remained untouched for over three years. It has sat abandoned, slowly deteriorating into a chaotic interior filled with remnants of its past.

We stumbled upon this site while exploring a second location, as our first choice — a vintage antiques and junk shop — was impenetrable. What we found inside was both fascinating and haunting.

Before diving into the exploration, I wanted to share some photos I managed to find from before the doors closed in 2017.

This isn’t my usual type of exploration; I typically seek out abandoned farmhouses, which tend to tell richer stories. Yet Dickson Bowl has developed its own narrative, becoming a refuge for those without homes and a dangerous playground for intravenous drug users. In a way, it’s telling a story, albeit a darker one.

There’s only one way in and out. Scrappers have scavenged for copper and other valuables, leaving the place partially gutted. It’s almost pitch-black inside, with only our phone flashlights cutting through the darkness. The air is thick with the smell of damp carpet, urine, and decaying food.

Toward the back right corner, we noticed a neatly made bed with a few personal belongings beside it.

We encountered a man who had made this abandoned space his temporary home. He shared that family troubles had left him estranged and that he tried his best to maintain order, keeping discarded IV drug needles in a corner away from the main living area. It was a sobering reminder of the human stories behind abandoned places.

Only faintly recognizable as the bowling alley it once was, this site has been stripped and weathered, yet fragments of its past remain.

Despite the darkness and destruction, we managed to capture several items that confirmed its identity as a bowling alley:

• League banners that once adorned the rafters
• An old nacho machine
• Bowling ball returns
• Snack and drink bar menu
• An old stove and a pot from the kitchen area
• TV scoreboards
• The alley’s mascot costume

Although very different from my usual explorations, this site was compelling in its own way. Every abandoned place holds a fragment of history, waiting to be discovered.

If these walls could speak, they’d likely tell of birthday parties full of laughter, first dates, broken records, personal bests, and friendships forged over friendly competition. The echoes of gutter balls and celebratory strikes would linger, preserving memories of the joy and camaraderie that once thrived here.