The crisp, cold air was refreshing for my lungs as I hiked up the hill toward the crumbling castle. It was a sunny blue-skied day, and the sanatorium still looked quite ominous perched above the quaint town of Dansville. It loomed above neatly manicured lawns and a landscape of emerging Christmas decorations... I remember being astounded that this imposing edifice was still extant, saved from the bulldozers of progress and "eye-sore" eliminators. The oxygen-rich air turned bad inside, full of mold, dust, and the heavy smell of burned wood; an ironic fate of this health spa.

The exterior of the building entranced me more than the gutted interior; unfortunately a police patrol squashed that opportunity.