This rusted Ford truck collection on the side of the road just south of Crawfordville, Florida (Highway 319), is exactly the sort of thing that causes me to stop and spend some time exploring. THIS is what makes a road trip a road trip. Seeing those things you wouldn’t normally see if you, say, hopped on a plane and bypassed the drive itself. Unexpected and out of the way marvels.
Writer friends: need a writing prompt?
Talk about a short story waiting to be written… Apocalyptic farm lit or doomsday swamp tale?
I knew nothing about these Ford trucks when I stopped to take pictures, but I knew a collection like this had to involve a story. Or lots of stories. I’ve since learned these trucks were used on the Harvey Farm, first as working vehicles and later for parts. Pat Harvey lined them up in date order from early 1900s to mid-1970s. They’ve become a roadside stop for folks driving to the coast from Tallahassee.
Folks like me.
It’s a Ford truck graveyard of sorts, back off the road in the woods. Easy to miss if you aren’t paying attention.
The vandals have stopped by, too, praying for surf and all.
Beneath the rusted surface, I see so many lessons, lessons about nature claiming whatever is left idle, and maybe a deeper reminder that we all end up in the same place, worn out and gifted back to the soil.
I love to imagine the history behind these rusted Ford trucks. Maybe next time through, I can meet Pat Harvey and hear some of his tales. A man who showcases old trucks has lots of stories. This much I know.
In the meantime, may they rust in peace.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
[tweetthis]Rusted @Ford trucks outside #Tallahassee = fascinating roadside stop especially for a writer! @VISITFLORIDA #LoveFL[/tweetthis]
Musical Pairing:
Luke Bryan, We Rode in Trucks
Love it! I’ll bet there were a few driving lessons given on a farm in these trucks.
I bet so!
Loved this. Great song selection. It brought back lots of memories. I always rode with my daddy when he bailed hay. Thomas never had a truck when he was growing up. He bought a used car in the 11th grade. I think he was the only one in our class who had a car. Then, as a farmer he rode in lots of trucks. He never owed a Ford though.
My three sisters and I learned to drive in an old stick shift Chevy truck.
A Reliable necessity on the farm.
Thanks for fun memories.
Thanks, Barbara!
Yes we rust. Yes our bodies return to dust. Yet our souls remain.
Sounds like a poem:)
My next door neighbors (sort of — 1/8 mile or so away) run a maple syruping operation. Sugaring as they say in these parts, and sugar-maples are sugarbush. They always have a fantastic collection of old vehicles. It is one of my great regrets that I did not photograph an old rusted away but once blue chevy pick-up that had the following spray-painted on it: SPARKLE TRUCK.
What?
The pix are so evocative, esp the windshield with the holes in it.
Sparkle Truck – that’s a writing prompt for sure! Thanks, Crescent.
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