We took a late autumn hike into the South Bitterroots to a mining ghost town that had a robust, but very brief, existence at the end of the 19th century. Many of the structures and machinery remain, strewn awkwardly as if somehow dropped quickly by the inhabitants in a rush to leave... and forever abandoned. One eerie symbol was a 30-yard long row of cordwood that had been stacked for winter use, but which was left to disintegrate slowly these nearly 100 years. We spent a good two hours exploring the remanants of lives lived. A leather sole here. Broken glass. A scrap of wallpaper... I have quite a few photos, but the photos in this album focus most directly on the tin of the buildings' rooves. Back Country Tin Roof


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