Descending ever deeper, I wondered what could be under this 2nd sub-floor.  As I set foot on this next and deeper level, once again I was struck by the stunning enormity and complexity of the structure.  The Lowry site had certainly been much simpler in design than this place.

This lower level enclosed a surprisingly large space; it was about 5 feet high and instead of coil springs or some other method of shock absorption, it had used a series of large spring beams to support and protect the intricate concrete layer cake which comprised the power house floor.

Spring beams were a rather ingenious way to spread out load and shock over a series of pedestals upon which were mounted very stout, hinged steel hangers from which the beams were suspended.  At each end of these beams were supports that rose up to carry the slab above.

(Click here for blueprint details on spring beams and their design.  The image shows a similar design used in the Lowry sites at the bottom level of the equipment terminals.  The detail shows a pedestal with 2 hangers and the beams attached which are in cross-section.)

The weight of the suspended floors kept the beams under constant spring tension which would flex in response to vertical shock and sway along the hinged joints in the event of lateral motion.

However, it was immediately obvious to me that the beams were long gone.

How could that be?  They had supported the tremendous weight of thousands of tons of concrete, steel and equipment.  What was holding this whole affair up now that they were gone?

Titan Shrugged

Closer inspection revealed that at each pedestal, salvage workers had apparently gone to each spring beam assembly and most likely used heavy jacks to take the weight off of the supporting structure.  Once relieved of the weight of the floor slab, a short chunk of steel was inserted atop the pedestals as a shim.

One of the spring beam pedestals.  There used to be two large steel beams suspended from each one of these.  You can see the chunk of steel on top acting as a shim to hold up the floor above.

With the weight resting on the shim, the spring beams could be disconnected at the hinges and removed.  Scores of these small hunks of steel were apparently all that was holding the entire power house floor aloft!

I have no idea how the bloody hell they got the beams, which were probably 20 feet long, out of that enclosed space.  Perhaps some poor sucker spent his day down there with a cutting torch making them into smaller chunks.  Not my idea of fun.

The view at the lowest level beneath the power house showing the silt collected there and the constant dripping of water from above.  In the distance you can see more pedestals from the missing spring beams and a pipe which I believe was to one of the wells supplying the complex.

The very bottom slab looked rather like a lake bed with sand and silt covering it in a heavy layer.  Crouching low I ventured under the low concrete ceiling where I found myself bedampened by an incessant aerial attack from water dripping off the ceiling.  Still seeing no one and with my shoes slipping in sandy muck, I retreated to the periphery where my camera gear was in less danger of getting wet.

Another look at the lowest level of Unterland.  This was the typical view down there.  There were a few pipes, sump wells and access ladders, but otherwise it was a rather an eerie and empty place.

As I hadn't seen or heard the others in some time, I felt a renewed sense of urgency to catch up as well as to find a place where I could stand up straight again!

Back on top of the power house floor, the generator motor mounts set empty and alone in the dark.

I returned to the ladder and exited Unterland, leaving its angular concrete topology and diminutive denizens (along with their rude graffiti) behind.  

Back in tunnel junction #10, I finally rejoined the group which was assembled at the entrance to the launcher tunnels, watching the water flow past.

One last look at Smurf Village.  This particular "home" was host to some fireworks set alight on its roof.  I can't help wondering how long it takes smoke to clear in such a place.

I asked them what they'd seen down in Unterland:

"We saw where all the water goes."

"Where?"

"Down one of the wells."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"Very interesting.  The same thing was happening out at Lowry 724-C."

After some discussion about the clean and pure appearance of the water, we decided to head down the launcher tunnels next and maybe I'd see where all this water was coming from.  I hadn't yet seen the water disappearing down the open well, but we agreed that we'd head back down later and take another look.  That never happened.

Lesson #1 of visiting a Titan I site:

The Titan I underground complex is huge.  You can easily spend 12 hours looking around and still not see everything.  Because of this, if you are limited by time, you will have to make a compromise between how much of the complex you want to see, and how much time you want to spend looking at any given area you visit.

If, for example, you spend too long looking at the power house and control center, you may well run out of time to visit all 3 launchers and their associated terminals.

On the other hand, if you rush through the entire complex, you may well be able to visit just about every area but you may overlook a lot of interesting details as you breeze on through.

In my case, I figured I'd just get a photo of the well when I came back through the power house.  Well, we did come back through the power house, but never went back down underneath the floor.  And so the pictures of the well never happened-- something I regret now, but at the time I was tired from hours of walking and in fact forgot to head back down there.

Stepping carefully in single file, we followed the narrow strip of remaining flooring into the launcher tunnels and toward the fuel terminal accompanied by the soothing sounds of a gentle stream...

 

Tune in soon for the next installment:

Part Four - Oil and Water