Dolled Up In St. Thomas

This year I wanted to have a creepy adventure on my birthday. The formerly-submerged-beneath-Lake-Mead ghost town of St. Thomas, Nevada was at the top of my list, and its close proximity to Las Vegas made it an ideal day trip destination for a costumed birthday girl and her nudist photographer friend.

St. Thomas was founded in 1865 and became home to about 500 residents, complete with farms and businesses. In 1938 the town was abandoned as Lake Mead rose following the construction of the Hoover Dam. In recent years the ruins of St. Thomas became visible as Lake Mead’s water level dropped, leaving sand, shells and broken buildings behind for us to explore.

The photos that follow were taken by myself (with my Galaxy S6) and my frequent adventure partner, Jon Miller. I hope you feel like you were there with us. Enjoy!

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We drove through the Valley of Fire and made a quick left down a gravel road. Eventually we ended up here, overlooking a 2.5 mile hiking loop that wove its way through the ruins of St. Thomas.


The path was made up of sand and thousands (millions?) of white shells.

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A pop of color in a barren landscape.

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Critter fur caught in a huge, dead piece of wood.

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The tallest of the ruins.

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Jon on the prowl.

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Time for school!

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Inside view of the school.

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Of course we brought props!

The following photos (minus the final three) were snapped by Jon. Enter the Creepy Doll!


Play time!


Then, as if my birthday hadn’t been action-packed enough, my thoughtful friend surprised me with this…

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Jon had miraculously packed all of this AND cold Coke AND snacks in his backpack…and I had no idea!

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Jon in his natural state. (Not surprising in the least.)


The Boulder City Pet Cemetery: An Analog Annal

Most folks cruise right by the (illegal!) Boulder City Pet Cemetery, never noticing the assortment of rustic and homemade markers gathered just off to the side of the highway. It’s easy to do: If Mike and Jamie hadn’t driven the first time, I don’t know if I ever would have found it.

The marked graves date back to the 1950s on up through 2013. During previous visits I’d come across old animal bones scattered across the dirt, but yesterday’s visit held a special surprise.

The photos in this post are multiple exposure shots taken with my Polaroid 230 Land Camera. I’m thrilled with how these came out…everyone will see something different in each one. If you’re looking for something a bit more conventional, I posted a few quickies on Instagram; feel free to check them out and follow me at feetishspa. Enjoy!





The LLBean backpack wasn’t there last week…not above ground, at least. Densely packed, weighing approximately 15 pounds, spongy to the touch and reeking of decomp, the bag had been dug up from a nearby grave, now half-filled with sand and surrounded by coyote poop and paw prints. The frayed nylon straps had been completely torn from the body of the pack, however the bag itself was still tightly closed and intact. It appears that coyotes have not evolved to open zippers…yet.








Packing it in.

Ladytime at Love Canal

Exploring the toxic wasteland of Love Canal in Niagara Falls, NY was my sister’s idea. She wanted to research the barren remains of the 1950’s industrial chemical dumping ground for an upcoming writing project, and of course Amanda and I couldn’t wait to join her.

Online research¬†told us that the abandoned houses had been demolished a few years back, so we weren’t sure what we’d see. Fields? Barbed wire? Angry hoards of cyclopean feral cats?

Here’s what a March, 2015 visit held in store for three creepin’ babes with cameras. Enjoy!

Welcome to Love Canal!

Welcome to Love Canal!

Fences? Check.

Fences? Check.

Barricades? Check.

Barricades? Check.

Circling turkey vultures? Check.

Circling turkey vultures? Check.

Wait, a house?

Wait, a house?



A locked side door.

A locked side door.


A pane of the glass.

Just inside the porch door (the only one that allowed entry).

Just past the porch door (the only one that allowed entry).

The garage was wide open and held many treasures.

The garage was wide open and held many treasures.

A trunk in the main part of the garage.

A trunk in the main part of the garage.

The trunk held a few old photos and greeting cards, some written in German.

The trunk held a few old photos and greeting cards, some written in German.

What's up?

What’s up? A ladder in the back room of the garage.

Cat food cans abound.

Cat food cans abound.


In the garage’s back room.


Fun and games.

Turning back time.

Turning back time.

Now You Cima, Now You Don’t

Jon and I hadn’t realized we’d experienced Cima¬†until after we’d already taken photos of the desert-worn ruins, train cars and shrine — and continued on down the desolate road, finding a whole lot of nothing in our path. That’s how small and unassuming this southern California ghost town really is.

We were there for a few hours in the early afternoon of Friday the 13th, March of 2015. Infrequent cars and motorcycles whizzed by on their way to somewhere else, while passing trains and a friendly kangaroo rat supplied the bulk of the activity. Other than that — despite the presence of a nearby compound surrounded by barbed wire fencing and large pipes — we failed to spy a single soul (shotgun wielding or otherwise).

After our adventures in Cima, the Shenanigods led us to Kelso, CA. I hope to have those photos posted within the next week, so please check back when you can. Thanks, and enjoy!

Collapsed ruins.

Collapsed ruins and enough lens flare to make J.J. Abrams blush.

Melted glass.

Melt-i media.

Tetanus fest.

Tetanus fest.

Someone was hot in bed.

Someone was hot in bed.

Hole-y shit!

Hole-y shit!

This shrine bears no identifying markers.

The shrine bears no identifying markers.

If you Google "Cima California shrine" you can view the different offerings placed here over the years.

If you Google “Cima California shrine” you can view the different offerings placed here over the years.


Cima, California shrine offerings.

Bunny, bottle, dental floss.

Bunny, bottle, dental floss.

A wind chime hangs from the massive Joshua Tree.

A wind chime hangs from the massive Joshua Tree.

Choo choo!

Choo choo!

Piles of wire at "the compound".

Piles of wire at “the compound”.

Roaches and mattress springs will outlive us all.

Roaches and mattress springs will outlive us all.

A old trailer! Can we see inside?...

An old trailer! Can we see inside?…



An unlocked door, then this.

An unlocked door, then rat poop a-go-go!

Trailer trash.

Trailer trash.

Now that's what I call bad aim.

Now that’s what I call bad aim.

Ding Dongs R Us

Ding dongs.




I was kind of obsessed with this red fire extinguisher.

The end?…