Through a section of the tailings boom where mountain winds tore open the sheet metal around the conveyor, I poked my head out.
300 tea lights illuminate what Greg Brick calls the Rotunda, under the brew house proper, which was part of Christopher Stahlmann’s natural cave.
SFAAP’s iconic smokestacks. You’d notice if you drove past this on the highway.
I found a meth lab in this building once. (Yes, I called it in.)
The cold air collided with the sun-warmed water on the floor, filling the ground floor of the Keg House with thick fog…
Iron becoming dirt becoming birches.
The stock house tanks were long scrapped for their steel, but what remains gives a sense of what it looked like.
The first 800 or so feet of the tunnel is finished with reinforced concrete. The test is raw stone. This is the spot where it switches. Side note: nailing this shot on film is one of my proudest light-painted moments.
“Against the blue sky, its rusting central silos look like rising smoke meeting the last minutes of a sunset. These give way to a corrugated night sky of blue gray, punched-through with staggered four-pane windows, all glassless.”