The winch that hauled the sea leg, a decide to unload grain from waiting boats and barges.
Ryan, as seen from the crane ladder.
When I looked out of the old mill, I couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was holding it all up.
Watching the sun set behind downtown Detroit is my favorite memory from the building.
Much of the signage in the mill was hand-drawn.
The city constructed a wall in the early 2000s to discourage visitors. Note the staircase is cut off, too.
C’mon, guys. PIck up to trash.
Judging from old pictures and maps, raw ore was dumped through these hatches, stamped into a rough powder, and hastily sorted before sending the best ore to the mill. Mills charged by tons of rock sent to them, so it did not pay to send them obvious tails.
One of my favorite images from my stay… Note the snowed-over road in the distance! This is looking toward Animas Forks.