The stonework was done by a local handyman of sorts, who was also a guard at a nearby insane asylum. He did a great job, it seems to me.
The city constructed a wall in the early 2000s to discourage visitors. Note the staircase is cut off, too.
I slid into the mill through the top floor, near where the rock-grinding ball mills were left to rust. I look around, taking in the most intact gold mill I’ve ever explored. Movement attracted my eye to the ceiling, where I found something staring back, a raven was observing me with some interest. It had been a while since I have brushed up on the folklore and mythology, but I took it as a good sign. Leica/Summilux 35/Ektar 100
On the boarded-up first floor of the house proper near the door to the chapel, the last pew sites next to a wet box of Bibles.
This bedroom built for a tuberculosis patient has been converted into a safe room.
A screen above the floor apparently shields workers from the disintegrating building.
Looking out the finishing end of the sintering plant at a network of torched-off catwalks through a maze of rust and asbestos. Paradise.
A closeup of a flour chute.
The roof of the King Elevator had two small vents and a terrific view of Sleeping Giant Provincial Park. Arista 100 in 120.