A creek has cut through the middle of the mine property, washing away the loose rock and eroding the foundations of the Concentrator. It’s pretty, though! It’s be belief, though I cannot prove it, that some of the water here originates from inside the now-buried Santiago Tunnel, which is no doubt flooded to a great extent.
Blue skies and rust-pocked siding contrast the high-altitude blue sky. By the time I had worked my way back to the tram, it was sunset.
These pools looked into the cribbing below the concrete.
Observing War City in the midst of an electric storm. This photo is lit almost entirely by lightning.
By the looks of the custom work bench, someone in upholstery got a little carried away!
A tunnel between the outside gate and the courtyard shared by the barracks.
Looking at the boarded exterior of the newer area of the orphanage from its 1914 section.
On top of the light hoop, 160-feet up, a ship comes into port, ready to load-up. If you look really close, you can see my shadow cast on the dock below, courtesy of the full moon.
In the middle of the foundry, an office is untouched by scrappers, legal and not. Inside, warnings and catalogs for machines that are gone, obsolete, and melted down.