Update: Wednesday May 1, 2013
A handful of blown out, empty, and stripped industrial buildings remain scattered about a large forested area. A tall, rusty, barbwire topped fence attempts to guard the exterior perimeter of the property, now however it's riddled with gapping holes cut by adventurous kids who have turned the toxic, superfund industrial wasteland into their own personal and super fun dirtbike/ATV park. Rocky gravel roads overgrown with weeds, tall grasses, and rutted out by consistent ATV traffic meander and cut through the property leading to various boring buildings. However, following the road for a distance the exciting sight of an abandoned and rusty water tower stretching up towards the sky soon comes into view. A rickety ladder ascends up the support leg of the tower, abruptly ending about five feet above the ground, seemingly just out of reach. However with a little bit of monkeying around one can easily manage to scale the ladder and reach the summit of the tower where great views of the superfund site and surrounding geography prevail.
Blog Update: Monday April 1, 2013
Walking along train tracks is an entertaining way to kill boredom and potentially even yourself, as some may view the potential danger of a barreling train out to be. As a kid, adults would tell me to stay off the tracks, so I didn't. Instead I walked the tracks, I discovered some awesome industrial ruins, I developed a fascination for trains and railroad infrastructure, I saw lots of interesting and crude graffiti, and I stayed alive...
Update: Friday March 1, 2013
This large and modern hospital kept my nerves on edge, a refreshing feeling, awakening me to the possibility that there still exists a sense of thrill to be sought from exploring vacant buildings. With all the utilities powering the structure still very much active, I covered each floor exerting caution, never truly becoming completely comfortable with the surroundings. Polished tile floors reflected an eerie white glow from the fluorescent lights above. Strange humming sounds resonating from various electrical equipment devices broke the silence of the empty wards. Not a single flake of peeling paint was to be found. This ruin was certainly in its infancy. But New Jersey is like the parent who attempts to discard their unwanted new born in a garbage bag, inconspicuously placed at the curb side. The baby will suffer a slow death, until eventually its decayed lifeless remains are discovered; a secret now exposed to the masses, who will undoubtedly flock to like tourists to obtain an inside look.
Blog Update: Friday February 1, 2013
A continuation of digitalized 35mm slides originating from the defunct Essex County Hospital Center. This 2013 series of scanned slides details aspects of patient life as well as provides a look into the daily workings of a psychiatric hospital. Most of the scenes captured within the images appear to date back to sometime during the 1970's...
Update: Tuesday January 1, 2013
The cold, corroded steel furnaces stand proud as a frigid winter breeze whips past, stirring up a few stray dead leaves into a whirl, hovering past, while quickly losing momentum. The leaves easily escape the dissipating vortex, and become trapped within the steel vegetation of the industrial forest. Massive steel stacks rooted within the frozen ground extend sky high, rising straight up much like a centuries old Redwood Tree. Mimicking dead bark, flakey paint chips peel from the trunk like bases of the stacks, accumulating above a layer of crunchy snow and ice. Spiral stair cases sprout up like pesky weeds, forever cast beneath the shadows of the sky piercing stacks. A canopy of catwalks and rusty steel grates taint any falling precipitation with the blood of rust, staining the ground below a murderous shade composed of faded red hues. Nothing in the industrial forest fights for the sunlight. Everything is dead, cold, corroded. Sunlight merely warms the lifeless forest, temporary evaporating the caustic water which slowly rots the Red Wood stacks and weedy spiral stairs. Casino men now own the land, they poach for valuable metal and slowly fell the forest. When the sun sleeps, colored spot lights illuminate the stacks; mindless humans hardly glance at the grand sight, instead, eager to pile into the casino and empty their pockets.
Update: Saturday December 1, 2012
Perched atop a steep hill within a boring town, the skeletal ruins of a burnt out schoolhouse rot. The wreckage remains as a popular hangout, a lawless land where curious teenagers wander; perhaps to get high or drink, or just look for apparitions which never seem to appear. Cinder block walls turned into canvases display the inner thought of the adolescent mindset interwoven here and there with some tasteful tags and artwork. With each step, the crunch of broken glass and empty aluminum bottles echoes through the hollow halls. The roofless top floor has transformed into a young forest where saplings sprout from the debris. In the never ending battle for sunlight the overgrowth takes upon an unintended roll of holding the building together, for the original iron and wooden support beams have long since rotted away. Lambertville High, a true dump, worth visiting once, if only to experience the trash. In present, nothing physical remains, the long standing ruins were reduced to rubble in October 2012.
Blog Update: Thursday November 22, 2012
Spanning across a valley nestling the quaint Hudson River town of Salisbury Mills, New York, a massive, rusty, train trestle divides the landscape, standing tall and long like a life sized Erector Set, seemingly built by a foaming rail fanatic. Despite the trestle's oxidized and faded exterior, the structure remains quite active; a vital piece of railroad infrastructure, carrying both commuter and freight cars into Port Jervis, NY and Hoboken, NJ. The Moodna Viaduct, as the trestle has come to officially be known, opened to rail traffic in 1909, after its five year construction period was completed by the Erie Railroad...
Update: Monday October 1, 2012
I had received word that another famed Catskill resort had been forced to close its' doors. Scouring over an online aerial of the hotel, I was excited to see that the resort did indeed follow classic Catskill design; sporting various buildings all interconnect by breezeways. Wanting to experience the fresh ruin for myself, I made a reservation to pay visit. Pulling up to the resort, a handful of new looking signs indicated that the property is under video surveillance, fortunately signs express a terrible poker face, and I easily called bluff. For the afternoon the resort was ours, but not without a few foul mishaps.