It was a little over 30 mins to the Mining Museum at Britannia Beach. It was an incredible drive. The sound turned from ocean blue to an icy green. Edmund said it was from the glaciers. It couldn't get over how beautiful it was. Uncle Jon and Grandma got to come with us, hooray!
We rode an old mining cart down into the mine. They did demonstrations of different drills and the lighting they used from the early 1900s to the 1970s when the mine closed. What a horrid place to have to work. It was an old copper mine, so the rocks all around were rdedish orange.
The original whistle. The loudest whistle I have ever heard. Edmund was somewhere puking in the bushes. Poor guy had some crazy stomach bug. When I didn't see him, I thought he had gone to nap in the car, but as I started walking down the hill toward the rest of the museum a woman said, "Hey, is that guy behind the shed with you?" Oh! I thought and turned around. There was poor Edmund white as a sheet and sweaty and holding a big bag of barf.
The mining potty!
375 steps up to this processing building (?) They washed and separated the copper from the rock right here.
They had a giant sandbox full of big plastic digger toys. It was heaven.
Jonathan wasn't quite strong enough to push these old mining cars. He has a blue mouth from the most expensive Popsicle I have ever bought.
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