Santa Rita Steel

So I dragged my grumbling brother out this evening with the lure of adventure and abandoned buildings as the light began to slant, its rays warming the New Mexican foothills. Back a long road into the mountains we found the old Santa Rita Steel Mill, its doors long sealed shut. I found a small hole that we scrambled through leading into the deserted building, where hundreds of business documents were strewn over the floor. We were greeted by the smell of old grease and dust that had settled over machines who’s voices had long since been silenced. With a few token scratches and a couple heavy souvenirs jammed into pockets, we exited one of the only surviving piece of Santa Rita that wasn’t swallowed by the huge open Chino mine that gobbled up the rest of the small town.