Between the Old Crow and Old Taylor bonded warehouses are some of the fouled barrels, now the only ones left, which were left to rot in the elements. Nearby in a loading bay that has obviously been disused longer than the rest of the property, terra cotta roofing waits in crates.
The porch of the Gustavson House with the southern San Juan range in the background. Bring your own rocking chair…
The corners of these buildings are inscribed by a century of bored rail workers and delivery drivers. Pictured is the southeast corner of the Twohy, which is typical of mercantiles.
This tree caught my eye. Note the bench swing near it. Portra 160.
Looking toward Old Taylor Distillery from the roof of Old Crow.
The end of the new elevator. Line of bird droppings follow the fire sprinkler pipes and wires in the room.
A stencil instructs the first and third shifts to ask security for access. Security was out during all my visits, except one mishap where a strung-out local chased me with a truck. Having spent a decade exploring the U.P., I was not caught off guard.
The Engine House’s boiler, which would have been fired all day all day, virtually from the day the shop opened until the day it closed.
You can tell from the marks on the wall that there used to be pipes running the length of this square hallway, which connected a loading dock with explosive mixers.