Lonaconing I

Yesterday, Lonaconing Silk Mill in western Maryland. It was a very dicey entry. From a photo we’d been sent, I could see a faceless guy climbing in a very high window that looked fairly tiny. But I had faith that we could get up there and in. So far we’ve always been able to find a way, and once a place is abandoned – all kinds of things force entry. We had a third person with us who doesn’t really like the dicey entry. She’s a walk-right-in, go-back-out-to-the-car-and-get-something-to-drink kind of gal.

After a little driving around we stumbled upon the mill on a neighborhood street between a yappy dog in a yard and an SUV parked in a gravel driveway. Only about ten feet back from the street, a thin strip of trees had grown up between the broken building and the street. Across from the mill a small baseball diamond stood empty. The street was hushed, not one person outside.

Our consternation about how to approach and where to park was irrelevant – no one was watching the building, no one seemed to care what happened to it. And there was no easy way in. Every first floor window was barred, all doors were padlocked. The building was small, not at all like the Delaware mill complex of buildings we’d done in August. The only reason it took ten minutes to circle its tiny circumference was that the terrain was a soggy steep incline of mud, broken glass, plastic sheeting, dead trees, and damp boulders.

Many of the broken second floor windows were boarded up, but a few remained open to the elements. We always prefer not to break anything if at all possible, and we located the window the man in the photo had used. The waterlogged cardboard he’d laid down to protect himself from any glass still on the thick concrete sill remained half out of the small opening. But there was no way for us to climb up. It was clear his purchase on the building came from his strength and height – we had neither. The rusted iron gate fronting the windows below his entry was topped with pointed pikes and the brick wall of the building was smooth – no place to grab until you got to the sill, too high up for any of us.

The only other possibility was a window around on the front side. A thin tree grew only a foot away from the building and the master explorer was certain she could use the trunk for an ascent. I was doubtful, but it seemed our only option after all other ideas fizzled.