The most pointless, beautiful and nuclear-bomb-proof catwalk I’ve been on to date. It goes between two high levels in its own bottom-lit concrete capsule in the center of the tallest, thickest building. Hang on, we’re riding this one out.
The glow from the city is bright enough to read by.
Here, you can see the edge of the foundation of the 19th century roundhouse.
Death. About two seconds after the explosives were triggered.
This door led to a now-demolished skyway crossing Minnehaha Ave connecting the brewhouse to Fermentation, also demolished.
Frankie and Quarantine pictured.
A long tunnel stretches toward the Mississippi. Was this the route Model Ts took on their way to waiting barges?
A small upper level was accessible via ladder through the hole in this ceiling. Ben for scale.