Days after the long-flooded basement was pumped out. Note the water lines!
North of the assembly complex is a storage network of earthen and concrete bunkers.
A typical shower in the old section of the hospital. It looks a little horrifying in the harsh light of a camera flash on the thousands of little white tiles. One soap holder hadn’t been stolen yet.
Scrappers infamously gutted the factory, but this one green conduit going from the sintering floor all the way to ground level seems to have been spared.
One of the cupola air intakes, rattled loose by the demolition downstairs, hangs stranded on the second floor. You can see that the floor I’m standing on in this picture used to extend all the way to the right wall. The blue paint on the wall made the climb absolutely worth it.
Looking toward the famous Duluth Aerial Lift Bridge from Lake Superior. Shot on a the legendary Pentax 67.
“Crunch, crunch, crunch,” said the ground. “I know,” I replied.
The Engine House’s boiler, which would have been fired all day all day, virtually from the day the shop opened until the day it closed.
Through a section of the tailings boom where mountain winds tore open the sheet metal around the conveyor, I poked my head out.