Sublunar Photography

To officially kick off year number NINETEEN of this humble blog, let's get this party started and pump up the jams with another installment of the "Semi-Regular New Year's Mashup". You may recall that I occasionally start off a new year with a big "mashup" post highlighting locations or adventures which hadn't previously justified getting their own blog entry for various reasons such as: "the location was small and/or mostly demolished", or "we were kicked out by some authoritative party poopers", etcetera.

This year is off to a bit of a weird/different start. For one, I've already queued up TONS of new posts from various trips I've taken throughout Missouri and elsewhere across the United States over unspecified amounts of time. What I've already lined up for the blog in 2025 is, objectively, one of the best years I've ever managed to put together... and you might've noticed it's only January. It probably sounds like I'm bragging but that's just because I am. I've been hard at it for a long time. I've been out in these streets putting in work and I've been all up in your buildings, creepily peering out through darkened dirty windows as crowds of you fine citizens walked along down the street below, blissfully unaware of that weird asshole in that building right behind you creepily peering out at you for some weird reason. I've found myself hiding in tall grass from people driving UTV's in Florida and I've been crawling up to within just a few feet of security guards in Philadelphia who kept annotingly walking around their parking lot which I needed to cross. I've done all this and more, dear reader, just so I could cook up some of that good stuff just for you. Because i care. You'll see.

Hell yeah! So snap into that Slim Jim or whatever you kids are doing these days and meet me back here in a week or two for the first of many fresh new posts which are all coming up right after this.

One last thing before we get started. I am taking this opportunity to point out the blog's complete lack of advertisements, creepy algorithms, AI, and other manipulative bullshit which your feeds elsewhere are bloated with. I am not an influencer and I don't want to be one when I grow up. Please don't "like, share and subscribe" anything you see here, unless you want to. I don't really care either way. I've never begged for followers and I'm not here to take your money. But you should know that if you leave your wallet unattended and I happen to see it, I will take it. And I will spend all of your money. But that's beside the point. What I'm trying to say is that all I want from you is for you to have a nice day and to be nice to other people. Except anyone who doesn't read this blog.

Fuck those people.

NOTE: The below trips occurred sometime whithin the last nineteen years.

Bus Graveyard

This bus graveyard likely pre-dates the incorporation of the rural municipality in which it resides and thus neither I nor the internet seem to have any idea who put them here or why. It was probably just a convenient place to dump unwanted busses while using the justification of "erosion control" which was a common fate for such things in such times as they were.

Under Union Station

I know I'm not only speaking for myself when I say that I've long been titilated by rumors of spooky dark places said to exist beneath Union Station. Well, once upon a time, we got to see it for ourselves and satiate said titilation*. While we scurried about down there searching for hidden treasures and whatnot the Shelbyville Monoroail or whatever it's called occasionally screamed towards and right past us, injecting bright lights, noise and a renewed tension into the otherwise quiet, dark and foreboding subterranean atmosphere in which we found ourselves drawn ever deeper by the mysterious darkness which always calls to us just beyond reach of our lights.

There was a fairly sizeable parking garage down here back in the day. These days, however, the underground parking garage is currently filled almost to the top with very dusty, old trash and assorted demolition debris. For most of the parking garage, we were crawling along on top of unidentified rubble, breathing in thick clouds of unknown dust and scraping our backs or backpacks across the roof. It actually kind of sucked. As always, I forgot to bring a respirator.

Aside from the underground parking, there were also a few random empty rooms and forgotten spaces just off the tracks including a very old disused bathroom of years gone by. At the far end of this space we found the old Post Office tunnel along with a few scattered pieces of discarded property including a ticket for the broadway musical "Mame" at the Kiel Opera House dated December 24, 1967. Among the rumors we've heard over the years, supposedly there was a subway/underground train passenger platform, or something along those lines down there. We looked all over but found no such thing.

Most importantly, on this same expedition we finally got inside the remains of the brewery cellar which is inconveniently located directly beneath the corner of the building. This was, in fact, our main objective and one we've chased after for many years. Sadly, however, the cellars were almost entirely flooded and there wasn't much to see. We basically had to take turns descending the ladder one at a time onto the small patch of dry floor which was surrounded by murky water and deep mud. In addition to the water, the cellar is now mostly inhabited by some rusty old HVAC/boiler equipment which had been evidently disentigrating into the water, on and off, over the course of decades. A truly bummer of a fate for such a historic/legendary space, but at least we finally laid eyes on it ourselves. Unfortunately, when I finally got around to reviewing my footage from this trip, I realized I didn't take a single photo of the brewery cellars. Woops. Luckily, a standup gentleman by the name of Mindwaave graciously provided a few of his photos from this trip which I've included below. I've also included one of his photos from a different expedition in which he went on into the other accessible brewery cellar which wasn't flooded at the time but which is now completely closed off by subsequent construction/renovation and which likely will not be seen again by anyone for a long time and that's a damn shame.

*allegedly

Be advised that the route(s) we took to get here ha(s/ve) since been effectively permanently sealed up and thus the spaces shown here are no longer accessible.

The last thing I'd like to say about Union Station is that my colleagues and I have done a ton of research and have gathered an incredible amount of interesting historic documentation on this site over many years. Enough to write a lengthy intellectual treatise on its history and whatnot, much like I had done with the Lemp Brewery recently. But in the case of Lemp, I did essentially 100% of the research/work that went into that article, whereas in this case my colleagues did the majority of the work and even went on a few trips without me. So I'm not going to steal their thunder or the documents and scans they unearthed. Perhaps you'll see an incredibly detailed Union Station history article surface in the not too distant future under one of their substack accounts. And maybe you won't. We don't actually owe you the results of our hard work, sometimes we just feel like sharing.

Cliff Cave

As much as it sucks when caves are gated off by self-appointed party poopers with questionable legal authority in which to do said gating-off, Cliff Cave is a good example of what happens when they're not gated: Idiots inevitably show up and ruin the party. And I guess that sucks even more. As you can see, in the not too distant past this cave was only protected by some sternly worded signs and a chain link embarassment you could practically trip over. That's actually exactly what happened to us. We were minding our own business and woops! In we tripped.

The dumb assholes that went in here with dreams of spraypainting their dumb names all over it decades ago are probably either dead by now, in jail or still working at McDonald's in their 40s and blaming their problems on everyone except themselves while the results of their stupidity continue to stain our public spaces decades after they left their trash strewn about, returned to their fox body Mustang and roasted a sick burnout on the way back to their mom's house which inevitably smells like cigarette butts and wet dog. I'll have a McDouble, Travis, you fuckin' dick.

Disappointment Mine

We are always on the hunt for locations like this in hopes of finding suitable venues in which to enjoy classic recreational activities such as: throwing rocks at stuff and the equally popular: throwing stuff at rocks. We set off one fine day in pursuit of the mine whose name we hadn't yet learned. It's not an insignificant drive, so we were very disappointed to find some assholes with construction equipment hogging our otherwise decent parking spot. Frustrated, we began driving around roads we already knew weren't going to provide alternate parking spots and wasting a bunch of time. So much fun. Eventually, we came back to the one parking spot we hoped to not to have to resort to using as it was on a very steep hill on a utility road partially in view of the road and about as far away from the objective as possible.

This mine is easily accessible from the spot we tried parking in initially, following a moderate 20-ish minute hike on mostly flat ground until the short steep hill which leads to the entrance. But the mine sits on the top of what is a series of steep, bouldery cliffs and comparatively deep valleys. To get around these construction dudes, we'd have to hike/bushwhack through the woods across 3 of those steep peaks/valleys. It sucked.

Disappointment Mine is obviously abandoned and its entrance and associated structures are situated on one end of what is essentially a small mountain range with no apparent road or other means of functional access from below. On the other side of this 'mountain' is a road leading up to an obvious mine entrance which appears to be at least semi-operational but gated up and otherwise of unknown status. The obvious conclusion here is that the mine must be massive if it extends from one side of the 'mountain' to the other.

So we spent all day driving around, parking, hiking our asses off across a couple mountains before finally joining hands and skipping gleefully up to the entrance in celebration as real men do. The exterior was interesting enough with a couple small structures and a rusty old staircase/catwalk and the entrance looked pretty rad so we were pretty damn stoked. We go inside, explore for a few minutes and end up right back at the entrance. Confused, I go in even deeper a second time and am thusly twice met expediently with the entrance. On the third time, I made sure to hug the far wall and take every opporunity to go exactly opposite the entrance, but once again we were back where we started after only a few minutes of walking. Apparently, the two mines visible from satellite view are not and never were connected and the mine on this side is not actually very big. Inside we found some mining equipment and a hobo meth camp in the center. A disappointing reward for our efforts.

What made it extra disappointing, though, is that we had actually been inside, briefly, a week or so prior. We had run out of time and needed to get back to the vehicles before they were stuck behind a gate which locked at sunset. We had only just gotten inside the doors last time, confirmed it was doable, gave an enthusiastic thumbs up and then we left, determined to return soon. Had we only a few minutes extra time on the first trip, this whole exhausting trek back into Disappointment Mine could have been avoided. And that's how multiple trips and one entire, ehausting, day can end up as nothing more than a brief entry in a stupid mashup post like this. But that's how it goes sometimes.

BNSF Train

This train was a consolation prize on a Chicago trip wherein we wanted to explore the large industrial site next to it, but were thwarted by activity on-site.

Didion and Sons Foundry

I drove past Didion and Sons Foundry one day and saw sparks and activity happening inside and I was all like: "that's cool". And then a few days later, I drove by and saw a demolition sign and what appeared to be the entire back half of the building missing and I was all like: "that sucks".

So I came back the following weekend and discovered a few measely scraps of what once was and is now no longer. And I was all like: "This experience is one of those defining moments which makes clear the value in being observant of one's surroundings and in the process seize upon any opportunities which present themselves therein for they, like the shooting sparks from a furnace-and indeed all passing moments of our lives-are fleeting and transient in their very nature therefore we must strike when the iron is hot so as to forge our own destiny".

A Bar

This was allegedly a "wise-guys" bar at one point, but who knows. I do know that this little bar was in operation for many decades and through multiple generations of the same family before its recent closure.

Either way, this little bar was a small but vibrant corner of the city with a long history of its own which will soon be forgotten and its very existence erased from all living memory. As we all will be soon enough.