A whiteboard in the quiet turbine room lays it all out… you should sell.
Vines are finding their way into the roundhouse.
Judging from old pictures and maps, raw ore was dumped through these hatches, stamped into a rough powder, and hastily sorted before sending the best ore to the mill. Mills charged by tons of rock sent to them, so it did not pay to send them obvious tails.
My friends know that redheads are my greatest weakness.
A little ice and snow made work at Taconite Harbor much more dangerous.
In the mine offices, hooks and a board with numbers was the system to keep track of who was in the mine and who was safe.
Don’t you love the shape of the house on the right?
The ice reflects the blue sky on the rust. The sunset blasts through the concrete pillars holding it all up.
In the background you can see the crane, which would in the weeks to follow bring all you see here to the ground.