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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...based on the tags: clones, holes-of-death, lake-superior, lights, rusty, towers, tracks...
The original color of the wall was probably green.
Bits and things in a pile in the corner of the smelter, the unsold chunks of industrial history that didn’t sell at an on-site auction before my visit.
On the second floor of the former casket plant, which was retrofitted with a conveyor system to coat finished products.
The oldest part of this mill had a wooden roof that rotted away long ago. Slowly, rust is dulling the edge on every cog left behind.
Detail view of one of the fermenting tanks, still set-up for the distillery tours that no doubt took place when there last were such things. Nevertheless, the capacity of this tank multiplied across these all over the distillery floor really shows the power this company once had.
In case of fire, workers on higher floors would take the emergency slides to escape.
Taken at a junction in the tube world.
I wonder what this guy is thinking, walking through the complex.
Street lights and pavement are some of the obvious signs a town used to be here.