The elevator tower seems to have been built with expansion of the dock in mind.
The back door into the old distillery building. Not castle-like at all, sadly.
On the outside of the steel silos and headhouse is a riveted bulge that does not look like the silos. Inside is this elevator, a rudimentary (read: dangerous) and old (read: dangerous) freight elevator.
Sluice tables stretch into the darkness.
These steam powered pumps were integral to the cooling of the meat packing plant next door.
Depending on the position of the valve, flour could be routed from the filtering process back into a mill.
Ryan, as seen from the crane ladder.
Before developers saw to cut and cut the flour mills inside Pillsbury, they stood at the ready beside various purposeful chutes the traversed the floors of between sorters. These machines were belt-driven by the power of Pillsbury’s Mississippi headraces and turbines, the force of which notoriously shook the building’s foundations themselves. The wheels would change the grade of the flour, or the size of the dust produced from crushing the kernels.
Looking through the an access panel at the hoist room for Shaft No. 3. The cable had long ago been scrapped, along with the motors to drive the pulleys. I still admire the workmanship on the spool’s arching metal shell.