Looking toward Old Taylor Distillery from the roof of Old Crow.
In the ward for the criminally insane, this door was the most-worn. Nail scratches mark the area around the peep hole, the wood is gouged everywhere from thrown chairs and hard kicks, and a ominous blood-colored stain is visible where it dripped in the second inset from the bottom. Aside from the damage, the coloring in this section was very vibrant, though it was probably little reprieve for those who had to work here.
Like a railgun pointed at the Rockies… the boom would direct tailings–junk rock–outside of the dredge pond.
From left to right: shaft building, headframe, rock house, hoist house.
My first picture at Nopeming, sometime around 2004. The same year that the county stopped mowing the lawn.
A washout two thirds of the way down the tram gave me a place to relax in the thin air.
This load of lime seems to have been left right where it was loaded.
“It must have been beautiful once.” “Yeah, especially in the winter.”