On my first visit to the roundhouse, the control booth was extant.
Kate in the Atlas E, which is essentially a buried Atlas D. Above is the protective steel blast door.
A natural stone floor in Brewery Creek’s upper path has been worn smooth.
A view from the loft in the shipping/receiving building, where the crane operator would step into his cab.
Hunter climbing up to the coal tower.
Past the underground repair shop is this cliffside adit.
The approach to Dock 4 is long demolished, so it is only accessible when the lake freezes.
Hand-shooting 4×5 underground. Must be Kate Hunter.
C’mon, guys. PIck up to trash.
Dan and his fearsome shadow.
One of my favorite pictures of the tunnel. I am holding a bike rim and wearing a headlamp. My friend triggered the flash just behind my lower back. The fog is a temperature inversion at the entrance of the tunnel; it was 102 degrees outside of the tunnel and about 50 degrees inside, and humid.
Jef throws open the back door of an alley for the trailing photographers and historians.
Partier graffiti dates to when the caves were last open to the public; probably in the 1990s. This tunnel used to horseshoe between the brewery’s ice chute (left) and basement door (right, backfilled). Note the utility tunnel in the upper-right corner as well as the lighting brackets on the ceiling.
In this photo you see three lives of Lyric: 1.) The Art Deco murals showing the Vaudeville background; 2.) The suspended ceiling put in when the building was converted for film; 3.) The explorers, photographers and others who worked in and on the building before its final demolition.
Construction lights were still plugged in from the last inspection. Note the murals on the walls.
Hunter and the Hoist House.
As my friend Jonathan would say, “on a human scale.”
Harris Machinery rests under snow on the left. Two explorers enjoy the view.
Hunter’s custom large format rig looks pretty cool, doesn’t it?
Now, to add a human scale.
In the power house corner is this gratuitously gigantic doorway. It used to be even bigger, too, as indicated by the brick arch another foot over the top windows.
Standing on the fence barricade that used to keep squatters out of the tunnel, the size of the space is impressive. What you see here is the current length of the tunnel; I set up a flashlight at the end to illuminate the concrete wall that is the lower portal.
Where the drain changes shape from round concrete to arched brick.
A taste of Superior culture.
The building in the foreground–the old control booth–was arsoned in 2009.
Ava on an upper catwalk.
David Aho pictured.
“See anything?” “No, just more of it.” “How much to go?” “Oh god–we’ve only seen about 10%.” “Guess we should keep moving then…”
There is a flipped tram car about a third of the way down the cliff.
A gateway for St. Louis as seen through a gateway (of sorts) in East St. Louis.
From the loftily perspective of the crane cab, I thought about how nice it would have been to have been here when there was equipment to share the space. This begs the question, who took out the equipment?
New friends met at the exploring expo.
Heavy steel doors to isolate the underground magnetic separation mill from Eagle Mine’s main tunnel.
Chris an his Nikon F2
Model: Devan. Instagram: sextmachine
Ava near the Memorial Building. The block glass embedded in the sidewalk here is actually a skylight for the tunnel below, which connects the Memorial Building to the steam and supply systems of the hospital.
Miller Creek, in one of the wider sections that features a trout (as in the fish) canal in the middle of the drain. Even though it is underground, the fish are able to visit their breeding ponds upstream by swimming through the specially designed tunnel.
Standing on the ruins of the burned Northern Pacific RR Freight House. It’s the best place to watch ships move around the harbor. Some things haven’t changed…
The top of the headframe, and in a sense, the mine itself. This pulley carried the life line of the mine and the men in it.
David Aho, the owner of Mitchell Engine House, poses beside the boiler.
My first night on Minneapolis’ Lighthouse–now an old picture and distant memory… I still remember the exhilaration and the view of the city off one edge of the roof and the Mississippi River over the other.
Colleen on the roof.
Blondes und bricks!
My friends know that redheads are my greatest weakness.
Two versions of Detroit. One where buildings stand tall and proud, and one where they wilt under the sun. It’s an amazing juxtaposition.
Below the historic National Guard Armory.
She’s a charmer.
We people are so small.
My favorite time to be in the brewery was sunrise. That’s the kind of light that made the brewhouse glow.
A self portrait.
Storms and waves, focused by the Port of Wisconsin entry have focused the faces to tear-up these boards below.
A comrade lights-up where so many workers apparently congregated to do the same.
Some of the earlier buildings were dressed up with brick facades.
How many buildings are in this pile of blocks? Not as many as there are piles, I can bet you.
Will coming down “Darwin’s Ladder”.
If you look close you can see a figure on the water tower.
Sarah in Miller Creek Drain.
Four A.M. was the best time to be on the main assembly line. This was about shortly after most of the machinery was removed.
A self portrait on a tire swing outside the Service Building.
This roof hasn’t budged under the weight of snow, instead it just filters-through the light onto the floor.
Worm in the path of raw ore where it would be dumped from rock cars into the silo below.
This picture shows the challenges of moving around underground in the base.
Sarah below Cascade Park. This space was destroyed when the park flooded.
Ryan, as seen from the crane ladder.
“Crunch, crunch, crunch,” said the ground. “I know,” I replied.
Aaron by the concentrator.
From the summer a bunch of Australians visited Minnesota.
Play on, Hunter. (Two keys worked on this thing.)
Mark, as seen from the back of one of the caves, to give the reader a sense of scale.
These stairs were probably removed to discourage scrapping and graffiti. Ask me if it worked.
Kate in the crow’s next… very shaky by the time she got to it.
Chicago looks in as we look out, for holes and trolls where anything goes.
Do you like Hunter’s tattoo?
This is the former air compressor house–one of them, at least–which turned steam power into air power to drive machinery across the production line.
A self portrait, from the early 2000s.
Like looking out of an airship.
A long tunnel stretches toward the Mississippi. Was this the route Model Ts took on their way to waiting barges?
Two Buffalo, NY terminal elevators.