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...
One of the only extant assembly line tracks in the body painting department. No photographer leaves Fisher 21 without capturing some version of this spot; hope you like mine.
Funny how sensitive modern English speakers have become to gendered language. I doubt the workers here–almost all female–were offended by this posting for ‘Workmen’s Compensation’.
The rear of the complex shows the more than 100 year old workhouse–still working! I do not know if the tanks are original to the 1901 elevator, but I suspect so.
The head distiller could walk out of their office to this balcony and overlook the whole fermentation process in a glance.
We can lie like sinners Breathe the air like children And you could lead and I could follow All those times are gone “Duluth” by Trampled by Turtles
A dead work truck rusts near an outbuilding. Everything is marked with a code. Modernity.
Looking across the whole milling operation from its dedicated powerhouse stretching across Eagle River.
A long exposure of the launch pad and its dedicated guard shack. In the middle of the base is a tall antenna which was part of the MARS program during the Gulf War. The MARS program helped connect calls between deployed soldiers and their families.
I found a face.