On this cold gray day, I met up with ChuxterB for some coffee and breakfast over at our flying club. After a good BS session with the old farts, we decided to depart and get on with the days rat kill'n. Bruce had to get back home and log 20 miles on his bicycle to finish his 100-mile/week quota. I had a full tank of gas and an empty memory card so I took the back way back to the house.
I see this sign with an open gate (well somebody knocked it down) and a little road leading back into the woods, open invitation I think.
Appears this place was at one time a place of business.
Lots of piles of jugs around.
Anyone looking for a restoration project?
I have no idea what this piece of equipment was.
Some kind of home brew cultivator.
Old tank truck.
Now this would be fun to bring back to life.
There is a maintainer in there somewhere.
Nothing a little paint and nail, maybe a match or two wouldn't fix.
Funny thing, I kept hearing banjo music.
Yeah, I love old stuff, like this old grader,
and this old Fordson.
If it wasn't for Desert Wife, my place would look like Fred Sanfords yard.
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