Standing atop the dust collector, the factory breaks down into diverging patterns, processes.
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Gold, which has a relatively high mass, would drop through the slats of the sluice boxes as the water flowed over them. Around the dredge were a half dozen radiator pipes to keep the water flowing through the machines.
A long exposure in the crane cab at sunset throws a bit of color into the bleak yellow glows between the windows and car shaker.
The wings of the church had a lot more water damage than the rest. The organ on the balcony was in decent condition when I arrived.
Most of the gauges on the control panels were broken.
A huge vent looks like it built in a hurry. There was actually very little in the way of bits of machinery left over… I am guessing almost anything of value was scrapped in the 1990s.
Aluminum spools replaced their wooden counterparts, later in the factory’s history.
Local kids probably call this the ‘Shootin’ Shack’, judging by its war wounds.
From Main Street, looking straight up at the A Mill, only the silence makes one think that nobody’s still inside, grinding grain into Pillsbury’s Best.
The only way to get to the second floor–since demolition crews punched-out the staircases and ladders leading upwards–was to climb this elevator shaft. In the lower-left corner is a blower for the foundry furnaces.