Valley of Vintage Vehicles

I'm the Rockhopper, and I just found a valley of vintage vehicles. I'm going to give you a slideshow and photo essay as I narrate, so you'll get to see some of the pictures I've taken today as I've wandered around this place. It's a pretty cool find. It started out as a spontaneous drive, like many I'd done before. I just chose a direction, and then decided to take a lonely dirt road to see where it went. After all, it was a perfect day, sunny, warm, and windless. After a few miles, the road narrowed and got tougher. Then I noticed what appeared to be an abandoned vehicle up ahead. I drove by it, and then saw another. I stopped for a look. I wondered how old this truck was, and how long it must have been here. A closer look revealed that it may have started life as a fire truck, judging by the lettering on its side. It looked like it had been converted for use on a farm or ranch. I had another look at the red truck. There were hoses and a big plywood box on the back. I continued down a branch in the road, and was surprised when I spotted what appeared to be an ancient road grader. I got out to look, and sure enough, there was this steel-wheeled dinosaur whose bones were slowly rusting away. How old was it? 1920? 1930? I read the plate on it. Number 145. Fill worm gear cases with gargoyle motor oil. Gargoyle motor oil? Had to be around that era, I figured. From the Galleon Iron Works in Ohio. I was really intrigued now, and eager to investigate the area further. I drove some more, and soon spotted a bronze-colored Chevy pickup truck. I wandered around its flanks and fired off more photos. The cows nearby mooed as I did. I guess the truck was from somewhere in the 1950s. Investigating further, I found an old International. Abandoned and forlorn, whose wheels probably hadn't turned for at least a couple decades. A 1960s model was my guess on this one. I returned to the Chevy again for another look. Pacific Wonderland was on the license. A slogan they started printing in Oregon plates in 1959. A little farther down the road, I saw this harvester. And not far from it was Komatsu Excavator. It looked like the excavator might still be in use, or at least still be usable. I headed back down the road I came in on, past two trucks, and paused for another look. Yes, it definitely looked like it was a fire vehicle before being converted to farm use. A ways down the road, I found the first of many more trucks and farm machinery. I got out to walk around, feeling there were more vehicles just beyond the ride. That's when I found the mother load. First, the old Kenworth truck. Then the dead bodies of so many motorcycles. With rims still sitting atop one saddle. Not far beyond was a Ford pickup truck. A closer look confirmed my suspicions that it was from the 1950s. December 1957, stamped on its license plate. It looked like the original color was green, but now it was the color of rust that was overtaking it. An oxidative psoriasis overtaking the vehicle's body. I peered inside to see tattered fabric and cracking steering wheel of a vehicle no longer living, but instead riding out the rain, wind, and snowstorms of the week. My next find was another old Chevrolet, which I guessed would be around mid-1950s vintage. A yellow truck had no tires and few markings to give away its identity. I returned to the Chevy and fired off more photos. The interior was perfect for a ghost driver. A big, cracked steering wheel protruding above numerous spiderwebs. The chrome on the trunk still gleamed. The Chevy logo clearly visible. The next truck, probably from the late 1960s or early 1970s, had something in the head. Behind the sticker, ROCKAHOLICS CAN'T STOP ROCKIN', looked to be the radiator of another vehicle. U.S. Motors, Oshkosh, Wisconsin, USA. At first glance, I thought it was just another Chevy truck. Its paint was fading, and a scaly like an eczema was growing upon its hood. But when I looked at it from another angle, it appeared that someone had slapped on a 1970s pickup bed on what appeared to be an early 1960s truck. It looked like this truck had been driven until 1972, before being laid to rust in peace in this field. Sunlight glinted off the chrome grill as the day eased towards sunset. A small swarm of mosquito assassins were unleashed from nearby Palm Canal to extract blood from my bare legs. Wearing shorts in the late summer afternoon, hurriedly I snapped more photos, running and dodging their attacks as best I could, yet receiving about five bites per leg. The price one paid for getting photos. Beyond the cars were old travel trailers. The one that caught my eye looked like an early form of Airstream. It had a shiny aluminum body, and what appeared to be a stovepipe rising from its roof. I stepped inside what was now a road and a table, and was intrigued by the old cast iron wood stove. Either this is how they cooked and heated the trailer in the old days of travel, or someone parked it and lived here long ago. I picked up an old magazine to get a sense of the last time someone may have used this, and found a 1970s date on it. Then I chuckled when I saw the name of the hand soap in the tin. Scat. Terrible name, I thought. Isn't scat something you may be trying to wash off your hands? There were a couple old leather saddles as well. Leaving the trailer, I found what appeared to be an authentic wood spoke wheel of a Ford wagon. It was like there was an entire history of transportation out there. How cool is that, I thought. Was this some leftover of the Oregon Trail era? Then I found farm implements such as field breaks and such. A farm and ranch jambalaya of broken down and rusty equipment. In this land of Ford and Chevys, I was surprised to find this little Honda. And it was quite small. The pre-smart car. I bet it got great gas mileage. If it got stuck, just get out of the vehicle, pick it up, and put it onto a better spot on the road. The Honda 600. An early 1970s car. Compare that tiny Honda to this GMC truck. You could almost fit the Honda in the front seat of it. This Ford 150 doesn't seem all that spectacular compared to the other truck. Give it 50 more years out here, and people will think it's really cool. Yes, the way things on wheels have evolved through decades and centuries is mighty interesting. Some will go on and on, while most will end up in a lonely field, becoming ranch lawn ornaments, or be recycled. May all the vehicles that have been laid to rust, may you rust in peace. It's kind of remote, and it's on private property. It could be in Oregon. Or is it... Washington? Hmm. I hope you enjoyed my little slideshow of the Valley of Vintage Vehicles. Don't forget to subscribe. If you like this kind of thing, let me know down in the comments. Thanks so much for watching. This is Rocco. I'll see ya.