Like a grave marker, a single post remembers where Dock 3 stood on the bay.
Police tape marks were kids got hurt in the past… probably from falling from the unstable catwalk above.
Pillars painted red indicated firefighting supplies. Fire was a very common enemy of early rail facilities, and many roundhouses burned down because of a combination of dry wood, hot, fire-breathing machinery and countless oil-saturated surfaces.
This ruin was once the Toltec Mine, a producing gold and silver claim that operated into the 1940s.
The Big Dipper brought its friends into view, and the best seat is 80-feet up.
On the left are rows of dayrooms; on the right is one of two long hallways which connect the two halves of the hospital. The large, center section of the hallway would fit chairs for patients to look out on the gardens. They called it a conservatory. This hallway would be as close as some patients would get to nature.
From atop a concrete slap that seals the old path of Mine Shaft #3, I loop up into the hoisting room.
A gymnasium, if I recall. The last building before the road dead-ends.