A view from the loft in the shipping/receiving building, where the crane operator would step into his cab.
There is a flipped tram car about a third of the way down the cliff.
This old Jetta did more offroading than your average lifted tinted loud-exhaust pickup.
Jef throws open the back door of an alley for the trailing photographers and historians.
The most pointless, beautiful and nuclear-bomb-proof catwalk I’ve been on to date. It goes between two high levels in its own bottom-lit concrete capsule in the center of the tallest, thickest building. Hang on, we’re riding this one out.