Experiencing A Junk Yard

There is something very appealing to me about rusted out equipment and old junk in general.  A gravel pit near my home has an inexplicable collection of old farm equipment, tractors, trucks, engines, miscellaneous mysterious items, and yes, even a kitchen sink, strewn throughout it.

Near one entrance is a 1913 steam engine. The snow photo was taken last March.

My first three trips were short, furtive drive-throughs with photos taken from the
car. When I mentioned this place to a photographer friend of mine, who also likes rusted
ruins, we planned a visit.

Rather than driving in, we parked at the entrance and thought we might just walk in. As we were strategizing, we saw a man on a tractor across the street who was now headed our way.

Across the street, by the way, are acres of fields also strewn with old equipment. The man on the only moving piece of equipment waved and pulled up next to us.

Over his very loud 1960s tractor, I asked him if we could walk around to take pictures and he gave us permission.

I asked a few more questions about the place and was told that it was an operating gravel pit and farm on about 150 acres. They were still holding out against developers, and the old stuff all belonged to his 84-year old father, who refused to part with any of it.

They are sitting on a small fortune of scrap, not to mention the value of the land itself.

Although John Deere seems to be a favorite, one can also see representatives from Dodge, Chevy, and International.

It was so much nicer walking through it all without worrying about a mugger or crazy person or serial killer leaping out and leaving our bodies somewhere they would never be found. Only our cars would be left as evidence but they could also be disposed of in the pond or under gravel. But I digress...

So we enjoyed a leisurely walk through the discarded debris of other people’s lives and work. Although we now know why it’s all still there, how this fascinating variety of detritus arrived in the first place is still a mystery.

There were no junk yard dogs, just a sad bouncy horse,

and a lot of reminders that rust never sleeps...