Roughly below the parking lot for the Rose Garden.
The end of the dock, done quickly and cheaply with wood. The towers were for lights, so ships could be loaded at all hours.
A gate large enough to accommodate a missile, next to the ruins of the guard shack. Wyoming is the intersection of lonely and beautiful.
From the boarded-up choir loft above the chapel, minutes after sunrise. Obviously local kids have long had their way with this landmark.
A 8-foot-tall volume indicator that could be read from across the beet boiler floor–convenient when the controls are 20 feet away.
The powerplant was roughly in the middle of the rail works.
Shells of mixing buildings.
One of the old cooperage buildings is largely unchanged from when it was built. The raised section of the building houses a crane.
Looking through the an access panel at the hoist room for Shaft No. 3. The cable had long ago been scrapped, along with the motors to drive the pulleys. I still admire the workmanship on the spool’s arching metal shell.