Rattletrap
Harriman State Park, the second largest state park in New York, undoubtably best revered for its hundreds of miles of gorgeous hiking trails which snake around dozens of lakes and lead up to the pinnacles of numerous incredible vistas. I've spent much time hiking an abundance of the marked trails within Harriman and personally find the park to exist as some of the toughest terrain around the Hudson Valley. While its mountains are certainly not the tallest within New York State, the sheer amount of rolling hills and rocky landscape between makes for some relentless topography to cover by foot; turning a casual 10 mile hike into a natural death march that is as much delightful as it is painful.
While Harriman State Park is most enjoyed for its recreational charm and activities, the acreage is also dotted with an myriad of lesser known oddities such as a curious amount of abandoned iron mines, many of which can still be accessed by following the un-blazed mazes of deserted woods/fire roads which zig-zag through the park, often leading back toward some of the old mining camps. Also hidden within the hills can be found the ruins of a disused Boy Scouts camp as-well-as random stone foundations and hiking shelters. Much of these peculiarities while certainly off the literal beaten paths, are fairly easily accessible as their whereabouts have been plotted by GPS coordinates which can be found with a bit of online research for those disobedient enough to wander off the official blazed trail system.
As enjoyable as it can be to hike along well established trails, it can often be just as rewarding to stray from the predictable paths thus avoiding the often overcrowded typical points of interest. Taking that leap into the seemingly unknown and unexplored often yields surprising finds that perhaps one day will deserve an official trail of their own. Once example of such a discovery is what can be simply and unofficially dubbed as the Harriman State Park Car Graveyard. A dumping ground of old jalopy's and crust buckets corroding away beneath a canopy of trees so thick that the abandoned automobiles from decades past can't even be spotted using satellite imagery; which is certainly a leading factor as to how the site has remained such a well concealed curiosity. The boneyard as far as I can tell does not exists as a way point nor even off limits boundary area on any official park map, however, it is certainly located within Harriman boundaries.
All credit with discovery of the junkyard's existence must be accredited to a photographer friend of mine, who one day uttered a similarly phrased remark along the lines of "Hey, do you want to photograph and explore an abandoned car grave yard"? Clearly my interest was piqued, especially so because the information of how to find it was wonderfully vague. Somewhere along the lines of words of wisdom passed down from a friend, of a friend, of a friend, ultimately ending with simply, "yea there are dozens of cars abandoned within a single graveyard at Harriman State Park, I was there years ago and think I remember how to get back." And so with fewer clues than the opening scene of a Dora The Explorer episode, we set off into the woods following my friend's foggy memory leading deeper into the dense canopy of trees, hoping no elusive swiping fox antagonist would appear to ruin the day. As the photograph above gives away, the Harriman State Park Car Graveyard does indeed exist, however I think it's best to save the adventure story for a future full-length blog entry that perhaps I'll get around to posting in a year or ten. Plus, I have to limit myself from writing god-damn novels for a single picture until I'm ready to post the entire set of photos, worthy of the story.