The top floor’s old-fashioned hospital ways were too much to pass without a photo or two… with the paint falling off the walls it was as if the building was shedding its skin in an effort to become rejuvenated or useful.
Like a railgun pointed at the Rockies… the boom would direct tailings–junk rock–outside of the dredge pond.
I wonder when fluorescent lighting was added.
A sheik mustard-yellow paint scheme across the roofless engine house goes great with the industrial moss and rust.
Prize Mine has been the victim of erosion. Its north wall is pushed in by rockfall and its south side is far from ground level.
Looking toward the old power house, right below one of its arteries.
Shadows of distant power lines are carried to the concrete by street lights.
I really like the way this high-ceilinged room is decaying. Well, decayed. It’s demolished now.
An elevator to bring big somethings into the basement, it seemed. Nearby were the plant firetrucks, still ready to go. I hope they were saved.
The middle section of the smokestacks were coal hoppers, and this device would load the coal into the hoppers from the conveyor belt it rode across. The bottom section of the stacks were storage rooms while the very top were, surprise, chimneys for the power plant.