The top floor of the nitrating house was full of switches and breakers for the operation below, each bearing a label and number. Nowadays everything is printed, but when INAAP was built, all these signs were painted by hand.
One of the large barracks. All of them are overgrown like this.
The rear of engine bay 13… according to the heavily faded sign.
The corners of these buildings are inscribed by a century of bored rail workers and delivery drivers. Pictured is the southeast corner of the Twohy, which is typical of mercantiles.
The elevator near the offices seemed a day’s work away from being operational
A stencil instructs the first and third shifts to ask security for access. Security was out during all my visits, except one mishap where a strung-out local chased me with a truck. Having spent a decade exploring the U.P., I was not caught off guard.
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.
The tunnels were full of bricked-up doorways. I wonder how many rooms under there are totally sealed from the outside world…
Goals for 1980, still tacked onto the wall.
In case power was lost, this manual signal could direct trains on and off the taconite trestle. Turning the pole would change the color of the light on top and the shape of the metal flags.