六腳磚窯

July 28th, 2017

Liùjiǎo Brick Kiln (六腳磚窯) was an unexpected discovery while riding from Beigang to Puzi earlier this summer. The chimney is plainly visible from the roadside and the crumbling bulk of the kiln can be discerned in a gap between the row of houses out front. Stopping to take a closer look I went around (and through) the old kiln to document what remains. Liujiao is a rather obscure part of rural Chiayi so I’ve not found any mention of this place online. Whereas several kilns in various other parts of Taiwan are being preserved this obscure ruin is unlikely to be the object of a conservation effort. One day it might only be known by the name of the bus stop on the highway, which translates to “brick kiln” (磚瓦窯).

The crumbling ruins of an old brick kiln in rural Chiayi County.

Without any credible information online I have no idea how old this kiln might be, although it wouldn’t be surprising if it originated in the 1950s or 1960s. After some research I’ve established this kind of brick kiln is generally known as a climbing kiln (dēngyáo 登窯), ladder kiln (jiētīyáo 階梯窯), or eye kiln (mùzǐyáo 目仔窯). Climbing kilns are generally built on a slope and, if I’m not mistaken, a ladder kiln is just another name for climbing kiln. Since this kiln is built on more or less flat land, this being part of the broad expanse of the Chianan Plain (嘉南平原), I surmise that “eye kiln” would be the most accurate description. It is very similar in design to the more well-known Yilan Brick Kiln (宜蘭磚窯), which was built in 1930. Hoffmann kilns, typified by this example from Changhua, were more common in the martial law era, but any estimate of age would be pure guesswork on my part.

Much of the old kiln is totally overgrown.

Escaping the fierce tropical sun for a moment I stepped inside a few chambers for a quick look around. The most immediate thing I noticed—after the rapacity of the mosquitoes concealed within—was the row of holes at ground level in each chamber. Presumably these provided ventilation so hot air could flow from once chamber to the next. I’m still somewhat unclear on the operation of the kiln but I believe each entrance is sealed during regular operation—and hot gas flows from the tail end of the kiln toward the chimney, heating all the bricks along the way.

Many of the chambers have collapsed, exposing the interior to the elements.

Notice the holes at ground level? Probably ventilation.

Local residents use many chambers for storage.

Imagine growing up with a brick kiln in your backyard!

Apart from the somewhat modern row of houses out front there wasn’t too much more to see apart from a dry pond near the chimney. Most brick kilns are built near a supply of water but I’m not entirely sure where the clay would have come from; it’s a very small pond. Amusingly enough, the kiln is used for storage by some residents. Imagine growing up with this crumbling ruin in your backyard—and almost nothing but idyllic rice paddies all around.

Smoke stack on the horizon. It’s the tallest thing around and quite hard to miss.

After returning from my trip I attempted to find out more about this kiln but came up mostly empty. I did, however, read about another kiln in the area—the Shuāngxīkǒu Brick Kiln (雙溪口磚窯) in neighboring Puzi. It is almost identical to this kiln with some small differences I mention in my full post about it. As for conservation status, there’s almost no chance this old kiln in Liujiao will be restored. Not everything is special enough to preserve in anything other than photographs.

Warning: this location is abandoned, hazardous, or otherwise neglected and may be unsafe and even dangerous! Exercise appropriate precautions when visiting.

警告：此處已廢棄或長期無人管理，可能存在潛在危險。造訪時請務必提高警覺，並做好相關安全防護措施。

Map

Recorded On

May 31st, 2017

Themes

Taiwan Brick Industry (台灣磚瓦業)

Series: Taiwan Summer Road Trip 2017

In the summer of 2017 I borrowed a scooter to ride to a music festival in Nantou and only returned it several months later. It wasn’t a continuous road trip—I’d leave the scooter parked at various HSR stations as I slowly made my way around central and southern Taiwan—but each leg of the trip usually involved 3 or 4 days of riding. In the end I gathered enough material for 60 or 70 posts, only some of which have been published.