After driving through a mountain pass, Nelson comes into view, looking very much like I imagine it did in 1861 when it was established.
Okay, the metal roofs probably weren't around at the time, And of course, upon closer inspection, it becomes apparent that Nelson is filled with a bizarre collection of junk.
Apart from a handful of tourists, I'd venture to guess that the population of this part of Nelson was somewhere in the neighborhood of 5. Two of those five work at a small shop, which is also filled with junk. It was hard to tell what was for sale and what was out for decoration.
Notice that the building below is called The Willard. Every city needs a Willard, even the ghost towns.
There was also an Area 51 themed store, called Area 52, catering to all of your alien and anal probe needs.
I snapped a quick picture of my favorite of the antique stores. Of the many I've seen since heading west, this one reminded me the most of Midland in Indy. Certainly not as large, but they had some awesome furniture for cheap.
My absolute favorite piece that I saw is the toreador pictured below. He is missing his right arm, but if you looked at him at just the right angle, he looked like he's inconveniently adjusting his pants from behind.
Poor guy. Will he never be comfortable in his pants?!
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