By Dunerat (Dunerat) on Wednesday, June 15, 2016 - 10:31 pm:
Ahhh, iron ore pellets, a commodity from the fabric of childhood dreams. Grandma's house outside of Iron Mountain was close to tracks that were filled in like this. Ultimate slingshot ammo that would detonate in a totally satisfying puff of blue/grey powder when shot against a brick wall. The utility poles along those tracks carried about 40 wires, and you could scoop up a handful of iron ore pellets and fling them in the general direction of the wires; you usually connected with at least one wire and it made a noise redolent of that haunting, echoing wail you get when you skip a rock across smooth clear ice. To this day, I keep a can of them handy and once every three years or so, I'll do a sapper run into my sister's bedroom and deposit a generous handful between the sheets down there at toe level. The haunting, echoing wail that generates never gets old. Thank you, Danielle!