Dry House

Mining was a very dirty occupation. Working underground, drilling holes in rock, lifting and loading rock, dumping rock into skips; all this makes for some dirty clothes at the end of the day. To quell unrest with the miners wives at home, mine companies often built facilities that miners could use to wash up and change from (or to) their work clothes. Often referred to as “the dry” these buildings would be located close to the shaft buildings – as where we found dry for the Gratiot Mine.

Our explorations across the Keweenaw uncover a great deal of mining history. From abandoned rail lines, towering smokestacks, to crumbling hoist building foundations – we have seen evidence of this area’s rich history. While the stories that these ruins tell are an essential part of our shared history, there is often an important story left untold. This is the story of the men who worked within these ruins, the human aspect of this lost empire.

By now it was getting colder, and we could sense the approaching storm. Moving away from the cable stands our gaze quickly turned to the tangle of metal and wood just outside the hoist building. It was some sort of electrical hook-up for high voltage power lines. It probably served to power the hoist sitting next door. It reminded us of the possible electrical equipment found at Gratiot that probably served the same purpose.

While most mines paired up a dedicated boiler house for each hoist, the steam from those boilers were often used in a variety of applications. The steam would often be used to power other engines at the mine, such as compressors or pumps. It also was sent to radiators to heat some of the buildings. These peripheral uses were fed by a series of steam pipes that ran underground from the boiler house out to the other buildings.

The mine at North Kearsarge (and its sister mine at South Kearsarge) enjoyed the benefits of an association with one of the more wealthy mine companies along the Copper Country. The Osceola Consolidated controlled not only these mines, but also the six shafts of the Osceola as well as sharing owners with C&H’s rival – the Tamarack Mine. They operated past the turn of the century when eventually they shared the fate of all successful competitors to C&H. C&H bought them out.

The success or failure of a copper mine depends greatly an the amount of red metal that lie trapped underground. Sinking shafts and driving long drifts underground in the search for copper is a futile and wasteful endeavor. Mining companies needed to discover the location and richness of copper deposits on their land with the most minimal use of capital. In the early days mines relied on the wisdom of the native people, and often sunk shafts near ancient Indian mining pits…

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.

Before the advent of air-powered drills, mining was a much more laborious and physically demanding job. (although even with the modern drills it was no walk in the park). Using heavy sledgehammers, two-person mining teams would take turns banging away at bits held by hand. By the end of a shift these workers would be dripping in sweat, and their clothes would be completely soaked.

It was an amazing site – that first glimpse of the dry house sitting up on the hillside. Mostly engulfed by trees and brush, its striking front entrance quickly garnered our attention. It looked rather stately, given it has outlived its usefulness by a good half century. Like some Inca ruin deep in the South American jungle – this shadow of industrial America serves to remind those who stumble upon it that a thriving civilization once existed here. A civilization built not with 1’s and 0’s but with sweat and blood of men.

Most of the time at Explorer we deal with “the big three” when it comes to ruins: the shaft house, the rock house (sometimes combined), and the engine house. Lately we have become accustomed to finding more and more ruins from buildings that supported those important structures: boilers, dry houses, machine shops, compressor buildings – and just recently – oil houses. This has complicated are nice and simplified thinking, but has made for a lot more photo opportunities. At Champion, most of these support structures are not ruins, but are intact and standing.