Relics are all around us. In the case of the Longmont Sugar Factory, it’s just ten miles down the road from our home, soaring white silos rising above a campus of brick warehouses and offices.
In years past, beets would be shipped in from more than 7,000 farms in several western states to this outpost of the Western Sugar Cooperative.
The sugar would be extracted and shipped down for distribution out of the Denver market.
The tracks remain, but the factory has been dark for close to 40 years now. That hasn’t kept the metal thieves and curiosity hounds at bay, however.
No Trespassing signs are prominent and unambiguous. There’s talk of asbestos danger.
And perilous floors. And ceilings on the verge of collapse.
When we approached the gate, we were (politely) told to keep our distance. Shots from behind the fence were okay. But prowling around the grounds was a no-no.
It had been on our radar for quite some time. If you pass through East Longmont, the silos will catch your eye, magnified by the way they seem to dwarf the mountains in the distance.
Hundreds of workers once labored here, operating the machinery that would extract sugar juice from the beet pulp and mixing with milk of lime and carbon dioxide.
Now, you’d be forgiven for looking up and confusing the silos with cigarette tips, stacked by giants….
…instead of 110,000 square feet of empty agroindustrial storage, left to sit.
We’re not the first drawn to the crumbling beauty of this place. The photographer Dan Turner has a wonderful series of photos on his Substreet Blog.
And kids with their smart-phone cameras and graffiti paint are apparently still an omnipresent threat.
As long as they stay outside the gates, and don’t try to have some crazy adolescent ghost hunter adventure on prom night, it should be okay.
By the way, kids, there’s no such thing as a sugar ghost. (Or is there?)
Cafe Decay 
Really evocative images. It’s hard not to conjur the workers, their famililes and their lives all those years. A headstone for thousands of workers’ experiences. Also tempted to slide into a critique of industry that leaves physical and human waste in its path. But that’s a trap. Everything begins, peaks then fades away. Makes me wonder where this processing is done now, or is there less demand for sugar, or are there more modern methods? Finally, though I loathe horror and supernatural movies, I am drawn to want to (cautiously) enter and poke around. Old places, old tools, old machines speak, if only in a faint groan.
This place groans, no doubt about it. And murmurs and sighs. I think the sugar biz is still strong, but consolidated elsewhere, in points north and south. Thanks for the comment, Geoff.
I love your sense of co-adventure and mutual spirits of fearlessness! You two up on your tetnus boosters? You present the seemingly unapproachable, forbidden, typically unattractive, shoddy and shunned with spirit, curiosity, sensitivity. You draw out the unique character and beauty of such places as to make the safe at home want to venture out and explore.
Thanks, Kathy. Just remember to bring sturdy shoes and maybe a face mask when you venture out to your own personal Cafes Decay. You should be okay.
And of course your tetanus shot. Yes, I am up to date.
Great shots Marsha.
Thanks Al!
Great photos! I think it’s only a matter of time before it gets torn down, especially since it sits on prime real estate. Some friends of mine went inside a few years back; they said it was dangerous.