...even beyond a hippie home.
Last summer I made a trip to the border to pick up a nice VH. I tend to take a lot of back roads on the way home from there (3 hours by good roads). Kay was along and tends to get nervous when pavement becomes gravel becomes a trail becomes an old pasture. I always figure if I got there and didn't get stuck, I can always retrace the route and find pavement again. Some of the land I know well and know that at the end of a horrible primitive trail (by city girl standards) there will be a decent road again.
Here's one trail, a pasture, a very photogenic abandoned and decomposing GMC school bus, and a church built the year before the 1929 stock market crash that ushered in the "Dirty Thirties". None of this would have been seen from pavement.
Also, the VH two months later.
Cheers,
Jack
No more school...
Threaded Mode