September 4th - Day 17

Twin Cities, Mn. - Winnipeg, Mb, Can

Like all good things my trip would have to come to an end. That day came today as I said goodbye and thanked ETMJ for his roof and pointed my car towards the 49^th parallel. It was most appropriate that as I left the last major U.S. city, “Moma I’m Coming Home” came over the radio to accompany me out.

My first stop occurred late in the afternoon in Fergus Falls to visit the fabled flour mill. Since I was accustomed to exploring in Mid-western and prairie small towns built on the railroad, finding the flour mill was no task. Entry was highly visible but in my current mental state I could have cared less and so I just walked in through the easiest point possible.

On top of the Silo's.

Only one of the sifting machines is left.

Unfortunately there had been an auction so a large quantity of the machinery had been bought or moved. This in combination with the fact that I had explored a 12 or so story flour mill the previous night made this exploration quite dull. After having lunch in town I headed out towards Fargo in the hopes that my day would look up.

A family friend had stated that there was a vacant slaughterhouse in West Fargo and so I decided to check it out. After holding an inquisition as to the whereabouts of the slaughterhouse I eventually found it. It, like many sites industrial sites on the prairies, was in the middle of nowhere. The parking situation was quickly solved and I calmly approached the building with tri-pod and camera visible to any passerby’s.

The exterior.

One of the blue hoses running into the building.

The only picture of the interior.

Upon coming to the building I noticed that many of the doorways had blue hoses traveling underneath them and out into the adjacent field. I assumed that these were being used to pump water from flooded areas in preparation for restoration and rehabilitation work so I climbed into the building. Immediately after entering into the concrete structure a foul and strong stench made me cringe but I was determined to get a decent exploration in.

My body however would not let me continue to explore. After taking one interior picture and traveling 20 feet into the heart of the building I began to convulse and expend my supper through the wrong chute onto the floor. I was quite scared and so I immediately headed back through the doorway and gasped for fresh air as I lay on the ground.

I assumed that this stench was due to some local chemical source so I walked around the building in order to find another entry point. The source however was not localized, but rather was throughout the entire building due to fumigation. (If I had waited two more days I would have been able to safely explore the building without a gas mask)

Too bad I didn't see this sign before.

I was disappointed by a failed mission but consoled myself on the fact that I was able to experience what a fumigated building was like.

While trying to re-fill my stomach with a meal (that contained a large portion of cheese) I decided that I would make a two hour detour and hit the fabled New Haven TB Sanitarium.

Once again I had to interrogate locals as to where the location was and by the time I was able to set my sights on the buildings, the sun was barely over the horizon. The site is very photogenic but that did nothing for me when all I had was a dinky head lamp to use as a focusing light for my crappy Canon Powershot. I made my way through the large and empty main wing and cabins before being chased out by some locals sporting about half a dozen pick-up trucks.

The main wing, partially demolished.

Framing on the run - I had to try and take as many exteriors as possible before the sun set for good.

The ruins of the main wing.

One of the cabins.

There was no doubt that I was going to be searched at the border but I didn’t care; how they could refuse entry to one of their own citizens? Sure enough I was brought to the side and watched as the Canadian Customs officer searched my car for any illegal contraband. He was so intent on finding some that when he told me I could go I kind of felt sorry for him.

The border hassles didn’t bother me one bit because two hours later I was able close another chapter in my life and get to sleep in my own bed.