One of the oldest buildings had a wide central staircase with well worn steps. They were utilitarian and beautiful.
Before the clouds broke, I snapped this profile of the dumping control room and its spiral staircase. These are the colors that I dream in.
A walk-up service window on the side of an administration building of some sort. I have a feeling the buildings were color coded.
The second floor of one of the houses is done in bright blue. This building has since been severely vandalized.
Seven TV sets and not one shows my reflection. I’d also like to point out not two of these are the same.
Part of the hotel where employees slept and spare bed parts were stored.
Some of the internal staircases were fitted with cages that wound round down the stairs to deter suicidal patients from taking a dive.
It will be a good harvest.
On first impression it might look like a funky mailbox, but trust me on this one; it’s a flour bolter chute. In flour milling, “bolting” means sifting the flour through successively smaller screens.
A squat building with a rail scale. Taken between rain showers in late summer, when I seemed to be the only one at White Pine.
One of two matching M.W. Glenn boilers, perhaps the last made by this prodigious boilermaster. As the boiler room is partly below Second Street Easy, they probably will not be moving any time soon.
A 16-minute exposure from the roof of an abandoned building shows the aurora borealis and streaking stars.
Standing on the ruins of the former sister dock, looking back at the soon-to-be-demolished family member. The pilings I stood on for the shot were those of the Chicago and North Western RR #3 which was dismantled in 1960 and used to be 2,040-feet long.
The top floor of the nitrating house was full of switches and breakers for the operation below, each bearing a label and number. Nowadays everything is printed, but when INAAP was built, all these signs were painted by hand.
The elevator near the offices seemed a day’s work away from being operational
Seating in the former top balcony is now front row for a secondary stage above and behind the main house.
The ice around the dock, compressed by the waves, was less clear than the open ice.
Looking up at the end of the dock at the night sky, with just the hint of the Northern Lights in the sky.
I wish I knew what has become of this great one-of-a-kind sign that used to brag how many days the Clyde Iron factory has gone without a serious accident. Update: It’s hanging in one of the smaller venue spaces behind the bar.
I assume this sign used to sit near the highway that snakes around the mine and town.