Dora, the pagan god of urban explorers, stood little chance off Alfred Street.
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A typical room in the barracks, reinforced from mortars and light shelling, possibly.
“See anything?” “No, just more of it.” “How much to go?” “Oh god–we’ve only seen about 10%.” “Guess we should keep moving then…”
Saskatchewan Wheat Pool #4 looks rough these days. You can tell how high the children of Thunder Bay can throw a rock.
The largest extant structure when I visited.
In one of the hundreds of bunkers across the busy highway from the empty plant ruins. Most did not have doors, but I got lucky on this one.
One of the ugly modern staircases.
The main floor of the hospital was crammed with furniture.
Looking into the half-demolished, half-dismantled conveyor for the sea leg.
The back of the Lyric, including the offices at the back of the theater.