A typical room in Birtle.
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Prize Mine has been the victim of erosion. Its north wall is pushed in by rockfall and its south side is far from ground level.
No ambiguity here… miners, check in at this office.
On the boarded-up first floor of the house proper near the door to the chapel, the last pew sites next to a wet box of Bibles.
A facade that tells the story of demolition and neglect. The sign on the garage door indicates that if one finds themselves there, that they enter the buildings at their own risk. If only property owners in the US took this philosophy!
The power lines follow the street, down to the mineshaft. Everything revolved around the mine, it seemed.
Part of the unremodeled hospital, above the Service Building, where employees would stay sometimes.
The newer tunnels were fitted with these fluorescent lights, although some skylights (block glass embedded in skywalks) let in some natural light during the day.
Blue skies and rust-pocked siding contrast the high-altitude blue sky. By the time I had worked my way back to the tram, it was sunset.
It was interesting that, even though storms had carried the wooden walkway that stretched under the dock, these piles of spilled taconite remain where they had dropped.