Boiler House

The monolithic Gay stack that stood impressively above our heads seemed to be on its own. Besides a cement “flu” that arched down from the stack to the ground, no other buildings or ruins could be seen around it. Stamp Mills relied on steam power to drive the stamps, and that steam was supplied by coal fed boilers – to which the smokestack should have been connected. But we couldn’t see anything.

Sitting just off the beaten path and hidden in the thick woodlands south of Mohawk stands an impressive monument of stone and concrete. Like an abandoned English castle, this ancient structure lies hidden within natures foliage-weaved shroud. Fighting our way through thick underbrush we suddenly found ourselves at the base of its towering outer walls. Rising a good three stories above our heads, these walls were a work of delicate art – crafted from stone and brick

It could be argued that the hoist was the heart of a shaft; working tirelessly day and night transporting rock, copper, tools, equipment, and people in and out of the depths. It kept the shaft in operation, and the mine making money. Without it neither could happen. But the hoist had needs of its own, the most notable was it’s appetite for steam. Without steam the hoist was just a static drum, and could neither keep the shaft in operation or make the mine money. Steam is the lifeblood of the hoist and heart that keeps it pumping lies in the boiler house.

We had passed by it at least a dozen times during our explorations – yet never saw it. We almost didn’t see it this time either, if I hadn’t of been looking in it’s direction. It sat along the main trail up to the top of Cliffs, where we had shot numerous panoramic over the seasons. We had crossed the same spot in the spring, summer, fall, and now the winter. It was now, in the middle of winter, that we finally noticed it.

Sitting directly next door to the 150 year old smokestack, sat a 150 year old free standing wall also made from poor rock. This was part of a larger ruin – a foundation of what was most likely a boiler house. The wall in front of us was a good couple feet above our heads, the corner sitting at a well defined 90 degree angle. It looked as if it might have been built just last week, and not by men using primitive tools over a century and a half ago.

The Cliff Range was home to many mines, one of which was the first profitable mine to exist in the Copper Country. It was in the middle of the nineteenth century that the Cliff Mine blossomed into an industrial juggernaut. Working a fissure vein at the Greenstone flow, the mine worked the cliffs from all angles; shafts at its base, adits driven into its face, and even by shafts sunk into their top.

Steam engines thirst steam, and the boiler house provides that steam. Our discovery of boiler houses is rather recent, and not all mine sites have them. The more recent mines such as Centennial, Kingston, and Gratiot relied on electric hoists to do all their dirty work. The power to supply these hoists were brought in to the mine from afar – usually in the form of a high voltage line. Mines built before the war were driven by steam, a commodity that those mines had to manufacture themselves. At North Kearsarge – a mine built in the 1880’s – each hoist had its own boiler house.

The fire at Osceola No. 3 may of been devastating to workers, but it did little to halt the shafts march of profitability for the next 30 years. The shaft, along with the rest of the lode was finally shut down by C&H in 1931. The lode was worked again in the 1950’s by C&H, but mainly through the No.6 shaft to the south. The remains that exists today on the corner of Tecumseh Road and Store Street are the remains of the original No. 3 surface plant built over a century ago.

Mine Street was the center of the universe for over a century in the Copper Country, for along its length sat one of the greatest copper mines in the world. At its height over 17 shaft houses rose up along this road, along with a collection of billowing smokestacks, miles of cables stands, enormous warehouses, and Superior sized steam engines chugging away day and night. It’s not quite as impressive now, especially here on the south end of the once vibrant road. Unlike the large buildings left standing on the north end – as in the photo above – the south end is more about detail.

As we branch out our exploration away from the hoist and shaft ruins, we quickly discovered that we had stumbled across an expansive operation. Atop hills, along the side of hills, down hills, in valleys, along old trails; the ruins just kept popping up out of the frozen ground. It had quickly become too much for us to keep track of, and we decided to call it quits and return another day. Before we left we were able to record a small portion of what was to find at Trimountain, mainly bits and pieces really. Today we present those morsels to you, as an appetizer for our return this summer.