Between lines of Number Sixes right after sun rose behind them. This photo shows how extremely lush the grounds are that make getting around in some places impossible.
This bridge over Eagle River is beautiful.
Sunrise in SEMI. The shadow of Kurth Malt is cast across ADM-Delmar #1. Clouds behind ADM-Delmar #4 light up. It’s cold and the air smells like train grease.
The flour mill (rear) and its elevators. The taller elevator was moved here in 1955, when the Harrisons bought it from Federal, who declared it surplus. The smaller elevator replaced an earlier smaller warehouse in 1926. Taken shortly after dawn. This one picture made the drive worth it, for me. Medium Format.
Ducking the steam lines overhead between the mixers and compressors, a water tower says “good morning,” right past the slack power lines. This is the sleepy uptown of the war city.
Workers’ lockers, strewn across Main Street, yet still out of the way.
Early bird catches the shadow of Battle Mountain blaring across the ghost town.
Looking toward Sleeping Giant from the workhouse.
Sunrise over Mill Hell, and all of Kurth’s various skyways. The elevators in the foreground date to the mid-1920s, Electric Steel is behind and is a little earlier than that.
This electric Wellman crane was added to extract coal from ships for the power plant that Erie built beside their dock. Now, with the advent of self-unloading boats, it’s been replaced by a funnel and conveyor belt.
Looking out of Kurth Malt a the neighbors–the silos past Electric Steel are those of the Froedert Malt Company, now gone.
A row of security lights line the roof of the power station.
At sunrise the fog rose near the solvent recovery line. You can barely read the “XXX” warning.
One night, I camped behind the sugar mill. You can tell be the clouds that a cold front was moving out—it was a hot day.
C’mon and grab your friends… we’ll go to very—rusty lands…
I was squatting overnight in one of the buildings and woke up with the sunrise. This is what I woke up to.
Blending the explosive ingredients was dangerous. It is no wonder that the blending house had so many emergency slides.
One thing I like to do at Gopher is imagine the shape of the planned buildings based on the partial structures.
This ruin was once the Toltec Mine, a producing gold and silver claim that operated into the 1940s.
A morning breeze pushes the last ice from the lake against Wisconsin Point.
I didn’t test the rungs, but I bet the view was incredible.