Abandoned places | Field 2 Field

April 10, 2022April 10, 2022

Anoka’s abandoned amphitheater

An abandoned amphitheater? Who could resist that?!

Anoka was my next stop on the exploration schedule to check out an old, abandoned amphitheater. With a hat tip to Brendon Maness for the tip, Derrick and I jumped in the car for a quick drive north on 169 and literally almost ran into the amphitheater as it’s a sidewalk away from 169 itself. Bet the traffic noise made for an interesting background to the entertainment folks put on there, back in the day?

My first impression of the amphitheater was an obvious one: this thing has been around a LONG time. The structure was put together back in 1914 on the banks of the Rum River in Anoka. The really interesting part to me is its name: the Windego Park Auditorium and Open-Air Theater. At first, I thought it was Wendigo. Do you know what a Wendigo is? I bet you do if you’re a monster movie buff like me.

The abandoned amphitheater in Anoka, Minnesota, was first built in 1914. (photo by Chad Smith)

The old theater is currently listed in the National Register of Historic Places and had to be a great place to watch a program back then. The location on the bank of the Rum River is beautiful.

Anoka’s citizens back then had a notable interest in outdoor entertainment and recreation. Thaddeus P. Giddings, a promoter of music education who’d been organizing community singalongs in the summer of 1913, took over organizing the programs and entertainment at the amphitheater.

Another gentleman named William Gray Purcell designed the amphitheater, and I thought he did a bang-up job. The stage sits on the flat part of the riverbank, and, as you can see in the pictures, the seats are on the sloping hillside. It had room for an audience of up to 1,600 people in its heyday.

At one time, the seating was covered by a colorful retractable awning system designed to protect patrons from the weather. That had to be a must-have during summertime storms and heat waves, am I right? A curved back wall at one time included a box office, entrance doors, and a projection booth, but that part no longer stands.

The orchestra pit was located at the foot of the bleachers. The stage area was off to the left and was nothing more than a flat part of the riverbank. (Photo by Chad Smith)

The theater was used for amateur plays, historical pageants, and other local community musical or meeting events. However, the theater would only thrive as long as Giddings was on hand. Giddings began spending summers at his music camp located in Michigan, and the amphitheater fell into disuse, with the exception of an occasional gathering.

In 1979, Anne Bronken, a University of Minnesota Landscape Architecture Department student, designed a plan to restore the amphitheater. Community organizers patched the concrete and did some cleanup work. A restoration planned as recently as 2010 didn’t happen. Today, the amphitheater has only its seating and orchestra pit left standing, and both are in a deteriorated state.

The view from the amphitheater. The Rum River is in the background and had to make for a fantastic setting to watch a play or concert. (Photo by Chad Smith)

Here’s a link to my Facebook photo album

September 26, 2020September 26, 2020

Crookston Lumber Company Remains – An Exploration

Crookston Lumber Company wasn’t actually located in Crookston, Minnesota, but in Bemidji. It was a big company that processed a lot of lumber during the boom in Minnesota during the 1900s. Crookston Sawmill #1 opened up in 1903.

Lumber barons back in the second half of the 1800s poured millions of dollars into lumber claims in northern Minnesota. Can you imagine being able to pour millions of dollars into ANYTHING back during the 1800s?

Thomas Shevlin and Frank Hixon purchased several claims and a sawmill from lumber baron Thomas Barlow Walker, calling the operation the Crookston Lumber Company. They opened up 13 logging camps, with each housing as many as 100 lumberjacks.

The year 1903 was when the first sawmill took off. They opened up the lumber mill in a beautiful spot on the south shore of Lake Bemidji. The owners hired 450 mill workers and ran an around the clock operation that is said to have processed 40 million board feet of prime lumber during its first year in existence. Kind of impressive, isn’t it?

I was a little taken aback by how green Lake Bemidji was. Not sure what caused it? (Photo by Chad Smith)

Some competition came along in 1905 for the CLC in the form of the Bemidji Lumber Mill. The location sprang up on the southeast side of Lake Bemidji, so we’re taking very close to the CLC. It didn’t take long for CLC to annex the competition, buying the Bemidji Lumber Mill and naming it Crookston Sawmill #2. Went out on a creative limb, didn’t they?

The height of the operation peaked around 1910 as the Crookston Sawmill drew honors as the second-largest sawmill in the nation. However, the good times weren’t going to last much longer.

As the calendar turned to 1914, fortune took away her smile as Sawmill #1 burned right to the ground. The owners would go on to rebuild the structure soon after the incident. A few short years later, Sawmill #2 also burned to the ground, but the owners would choose not to rebuild the facility.

The end was in sight just a decade later when another fire destroyed about 24 million board feet of prime lumber on November 9, 1924. The retail value on the destroyed white pine was $750,000, an insane amount of money in the early 1900s. The truly-unfortunate piece to the story is 2,000 employees immediately found themselves with no jobs.

The end came in October of 1928 when the Crookston Lumber Mill shut down for good. As it turns out, most of the prime lumber in Minnesota had been harvested, so investors moved their operations out to the Pacific Coast.

This small site is all that remains of what once was the second-largest lumber mill in the United States. (Photo by Chad Smith)

The city of Bemidji sure made a nice little park out of the remains of a once-grand structure. I only wish we didn’t have people who felt the need to tag a building like that. While I usually admire good street art in the Twin Cities, it just doesn’t belong at a place like this. Plus, the fast-food wrappers and empty cigarette boxes don’t add much to the ambiance.

Nevertheless, I still recommend you go see the place.

I’ve seen vegetation grow in the strangest places, including up through a sandstone structure. (Photo by Chad Smith)

The Crookston Lumber Company site sits on the southern Shore of Lake Bemidji. (Photo by Chad Smith)

June 20, 2020June 22, 2020

Old Brewery Exploration in Southeast Minnesota

Old Brewery exploring was something I couldn’t pass up. Exploring Minnesota took me to the south this weekend, stopping in Mantorville to check out the ruins of the old brewery caves. There isn’t a lot left of the old four-story, sandstone structure, but admittedly there’s more than I thought I’d see. The once-proud structure is losing the battle to Mother Nature, as you may imagine.

There doesn’t seem to be a ton of information on the brewery online. One source who seemed to know what they were doing says what’s leftover is actually the second brewery built in Mantorville. The original brewery appears to have been built in 1858, entirely out of sandstone quarried out of the bluff directly behind where the structure was built.

The Dodge County Brewery reach four stories at its pinnacle and produced upwards of 7,000 beer-filled barrels a year at their peak in the late 1800s. Reports say the brewery was fortunate in avoiding so many of the fires that claimed other early breweries that began in Minnesota around the same time.

If I pegged it right, this was in the inside of the brewhouse. It’s in rough shape. I did NOT stay in there long at all. (Photo by Chad Smith)

Two 40 X 70 caves were used to store the aging beer and keep the barrels ice cold. The brewery ran purely on steam power during its lifetime. Only a shell of the building remains, but there is one cooling room still intact.

Like many of the other Minnesota breweries, when Prohibition rolled around, that pretty much ended the business. There was some bootlegging during the dry years. When Prohibition was repealed, they tried to crank up production again. New owner Otto Schuman took over the brewery and ran it as a pop factory. But it wasn’t to be. Even though the brewery had some of the largest and most advanced technology of any brewery in the state, Schuman shut down the factory for good in 1934.

The brewery was partly demolished in 1942. The site did contribute a lot of recovered metal to help the effort in World War 2, but that appears to be its last significant contribution.

Not sure just how long these structures will remain standing. Lots of crumbling down.

Be alert and watch where you step out there. This shot is from the hill above the brewhouse.
The littered floor is where I first entered the place and wouldn’t want to accidentally fall
into that hole. (Photo by Chad Smith)

Here’s the link to my Facebook picture album. Give a look! https://www.facebook.com/chad.smith.75685/media_set?set=a.3200569013336846&type=3&uploaded=32

May 17, 2020May 17, 2020

Hobbies broadening my horizons in middle-age

Hobbies. I’ve never really had much time for them through the course of my life and I’m honestly not sure why as I sit here and write. Too busy trying to make ends meet? Too lazy? The truth, as it is with most everything in life, is probably somewhere in the middle.

I’ve never really been the adventurous type. Always seemed to want to play it safe and never do anything other people might find unexpected. Then, I moved to the Twin Cities and discovered urban exploring. It’s been a rather eye-opening experience since adding it to my still-growing list of hobbies.

I saw people going to places very few others went to. That spoke to me and I honestly wasn’t sure why at first. Then, as I got a little further into the hobby, it started to dawn on me through the feedback I got mostly through Facebook. “I really enjoy following your explorations,” is something I heard on a regular basis.

This old girl was far and away my favorite old vehicle that I discovered during a Saturday
afternoon exploration. (Photo by Chad Smith)

Plus, I got feedback from people I didn’t expect. The City Administrator at Rushford, Minnesota, Tony Chladek, is a busy fella (and does a great job) but he mentioned during a phone call how much he enjoys my urban exploring photography. He said the same thing I get in a lot of feedback; “I really enjoy following you into places not a lot of people go.”

The current Secretary of Agriculture in Minnesota, Thom Peterson, is a long-time Facebook friend who also mentioned he likes following my explorations. It was funny how he mentioned it after we’d finished an interview for a newspaper article I was writing.

While going through abandoned places, I find it a lot of fun to try and picture what life must have been like back in the day, all those years ago. How different things must have been three decades ago? And, how similar some things might have been as well.

That’s what hooked me into it. Going places that other people don’t typically get to go. But it’s even more than that. It’s the history behind some of these places that also fascinates me too. Spent an afternoon a while back exploring the Pokegama Sanatorium near Pine City, Minnesota. One of the most interesting things I found there was documentation and medical papers that went back as far as 30 years.

Got a tip from a Facebook friend and fellow urbex (slang for urban exploring) enthusiast about a bunch of abandoned vehicles tucked away in a shelter-belt near the Mazomani Trail that I had recent explored. I sure found a number of vehicles that had been stashed away a long time ago.

Far and away the BIGGEST piece of machinery I found abandoned in the tree line. Thought
for a crazy moment I’d found the remains of Optimus Prime. (Photo by Chad Smith)

Man, did walking through a shelter-belt bring back memories of life on the Gerhold Farm. My brother, Travis, and I spent all kinds of time exploring the tree lines around the entire farm. If I remember right, Grandpa John had his own vehicles stashed away among the trees as well.

Talk about some serious nostalgia that made this soon-to-be 50-year-old smile like he was all of fourteen again. Of course, my wife will occasionally say that me and my grown sons can collectively be 14 years old as well. Not sure that’s a compliment?

Hobbies. We all need one or two. If you don’t have one, get one, okay? Hobbies make life more interesting.