Wintertime is quiet, except for the planes overhead.
The rear of engine bay 13… according to the heavily faded sign.
Captured bolts for a pressure cooker on an industrial scale.
Taconite Harbor’s main road, now overgrown and leading to nothing. Just asphalt between caved-in curbs.
I slid into the mill through the top floor, near where the rock-grinding ball mills were left to rust. I look around, taking in the most intact gold mill I’ve ever explored. Movement attracted my eye to the ceiling, where I found something staring back, a raven was observing me with some interest. It had been a while since I have brushed up on the folklore and mythology, but I took it as a good sign. Leica/Summilux 35/Ektar 100
The power gauge showed… broken.
One of the many exposed steam tunnels, unearthed by erosion and broken into by farm tractors and bored kids.
If there were no other options, operators could climb this ladder from the Communications Room to the surface, after opening two heavy steel hatches, of course.