The holes were for men to poke reluctant ore with long poles, with the hope that a lucky jab would let the load slide down into the boat below. Now they’re just traps.
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A bunk room, minus the bunks.
Standing on the ruins of the former sister dock, looking back at the soon-to-be-demolished family member. The pilings I stood on for the shot were those of the Chicago and North Western RR #3 which was dismantled in 1960 and used to be 2,040-feet long.
Filters and fans to draw air into the boilers in the second power plant.
Worm in the path of raw ore where it would be dumped from rock cars into the silo below.
Captured bolts for a pressure cooker on an industrial scale.
End of the paint line. After reading Father Action’s excellent-as-always writeup about his adventures here, I was pretty cautious around big spinning alarms. (See http://www.actionsquad.org/fordII1.html)
This part of the workhouse was sheathed in fiberglass, but now you can see its insides from a mile away.
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.
The company labs. If you can believe it, this area is even more destroyed today.