A stack of abandoned tires piled to the top of an open door frame acted as a makeshift barricade into the adjoining room. Between gaps in the haphazardly placed tires, slivers of light shine through providing just enough of a chasm to glimpse into the blocked off space behind. I squinted my eyes in an attempt to focus my vision as I gazed into the mysterious room hidden behind the rubbish rubbers. Surprisingly, I am able to make out what appears to be the silhouette of an old sports car rusting away against a backdrop of corroded oil barrels and drums slowly seeping black goop. Between the door frame and the top most tire, a gap of about twelve inches or so exists, wide enough just to contort my body past. However, to reach the opening the great wall of tires must be scaled.
As I place my foot upon the first tire, the entire stack sways with great ease and agility, held only loosely in place by the brick door frame. With a great big Santa hug, I grasp my arms around the tires in an attempt to stabilize them as I begin to shimmy myself up closer to the opening above. It soon becomes increasing obvious by my soaked and slick shorts that many of the tires are filled with stagnant water, made up with more parts oil than H2O. My legs shimmer with toxic rainbows as I reach the top of the stack. Laying and swaying on my stomach, I can now with a clear view spot through the gap a Ford Mustang rusting away within an otherwise cordoned off garage. The fun now remains in conjuring up a plan for how to catapult my camera, tripod, and backpack up-and-over with me...
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