Inside the office was a small furnace and a collection of mechanical belts. You can see “SERVICE AT COST” and “POOL 168” in the background.
Looking across the catwalk attache to the elevated control room, in charge of the train dumping part of the operation.
This view of BCT shows the portico where the main entrance is at the base of the office tower, and the clock.
The steel awning and its elegant staircase are one of my favorite features near the old carpentry shop. The gymnasium-theater is in the background.
This office, as seen from the power plant, administered the bonded warehouses. There used to be a few more of them, according to old maps and postcards.
Above my head while taking this picture was the seal of the Department of the Interior.
The Osborn Block (front) and the Twohy (rear) at sunset. In the distance, you can almost make out Globe Elevators. One of my favorite photos of 2013.
This picture gives you the idea of how the boat-loading control rooms are set up; they lean over the dock and Lake Superior to be able to see down into the holds of the boats… important, considering how quickly it loaded the boats! An uneven load could put stress on the hull of a laker, increasing the risk it will break and sink.
The front of the power plant (right), the distillery itself (center), and the regaling house (left).
Looking past the Osborn along the side of the Hughitt Slip, where there have always been grain elevators for more than 100 years.
A me-sized hole in the half-demolished skyway looks about a story down to the ground. Step lightly. Arista 100.
The Osborn Block is the prettiest building you’ve never seen in the Twin Ports.
The UP gets a lot of snow, making exploring its old mines a special challenge in the winter. The snow is more than 6 feet deep in this picture, and firm enough to walk on.
The end of the dock disappears in the fog.
The fantastic Art Deco portico over the main entrance to the concourse.
The Sivertson’s sign seems like from a different time. I’ve never seen it lit, but I bet it’s beautiful.
Looking up from the train shed. The building was consistently crumbling and I wish I had worn a hard hat in this area.
Local kids probably call this the ‘Shootin’ Shack’, judging by its war wounds.