A washout two thirds of the way down the tram gave me a place to relax in the thin air.
The last tailings on a broken conveyor belt.
The west portal of the tunnel is open, and if it wasn’t for the rough track, I would think by looking at it that a train could be coasting up behind me any moment. Mamiya 6/Portra 160
“See anything?” “No, just more of it.” “How much to go?” “Oh god–we’ve only seen about 10%.” “Guess we should keep moving then…”
In this ghost town where there were brick, wooden, and dirt-brick buildings, the latter fared the best by far.
These dump cars moved copper ore to the top of the furnaces… it’s about two stories above ground level.
This was taken before the top of the docks really started to rot-out; now this stretch past the crane is distinctly unsafe to cross. Still, you can’t beat the view of Dock #2 winding into the distance, where the approach is chopped-off before the yard used to extend.
A bridge crosses the main street of the village; one that goes nowhere. Ambiguity intended.