A Church, some Coal, some Cars and Chums

On Saturday Elliott and I made the 3.5 hour journey up to PA to meet a few other explorers and photograph an old church which the new owner kindly allowed us access to. We knew beforehand that the stained glass windows, lights and many other fittings had been stolen, so we weren't sure what we would find, and we did wonder if it would be worth photographing. But I was especially excited to meet friends who'd I'd not seen for a long time and for me, that was the draw, rather than the church. And of course, the beer. We'd almost definitely be trying a local brewery afterwards, I was determined that this would pass.

Unfortunately, the church's exterior didn't inspire me, and on entering the premises, Cindy immediately started exclaiming how wonderful it was. I followed her gaze with my eyes but obviously wasn't seeing what she saw, the trash and torn clothing dumped on the floor, the broken furniture and moldy walls. She saw beautiful scenery, I saw rubbish. I was pretty bombed about feeling this way, but determined to make the best of it, and after spotting some nice untouched cobwebs against textured glass my spirits lifted a little. I decided I'd take photos that would later be more of a play with color, using Photoshop later. Having a theme in my head I pulled out the Sony and got to work.

I walked about for a while and then made for a dark stairwell that went downstairs. I had not considered that there would be various floors, and therefore lots of stairs, in the church, and my knee certainly got a workout this morning. The Sony, with its new longer lens, felt like I was carrying a house brick around with me. But it felt great to be photographing again and I was soon immersed in my surroundings, studying architectural details and light in the rooms.

The guy who had bought the church appeared to be only in his 20's, with no clear vision of what he wanted to do with the church. He had moved to this town for a slower pace of life and a new direction, purchasing this property for, in his words, "likely less than all your camera gear." We looked it up later, and he was right, he'd bought it for $9100! It was built in 1859, remodeled in 1866, then rebuilt in 1883. A solid structure of huge granite blocks, it was sturdy, yet had plenty of damp inside. There was some mold, a few rotting floors, with holes that we had to negotiate in the dim light and puddles with an oily sheen that reflected broken chairs and peeling paint. We suggested turning the place into a brewery, which he liked the idea of. He was thinking of inviting vendors in to create an antique/flea market/coffee shop area, yet he will need to embark on a huge restoration project before he can turn it into a viable business venture. We wondered if he'd bitten off more than he could chew. But he was a really friendly guy and almost bashful at accepting the donations we gave him. We suggested future trips from our group which appealed to him. I hope he realizes his dream.

 

We met outside for a group shot and then the best part of the day happened, visiting a brewery called Lost Mind. They were brand new and hadn't begun serving their own brews yet, but the local beers they had on tap were pretty tasty. The food went down well too and we were soon fortified for the afternoon. It felt amazing to be with friends, swapping stories, and laughing. So much laughing, and feelings of happiness shared with people I'd missed being with. It was a perfect lunch.

We all later stopped at an old coal breaker that Andrew had spotted on the way up. We trekked through brambles and loose gravel to reach a building that was almost a skeleton, a bare metal frame with no roof, just huge girders with a few plastic sheets and teal paint on metal providing color. The others climbed up into the shell of the building where some machinery remained. I desperately wanted to follow, but the uphill slope was loose with earth and leaves, plus there were also broken rusty stairs to clamber up. I, very regretfully, decided to be sensible and stay down below, knowing I would be foolish to push my knee through that kind of exertion and risk a setback. I sat down, listening to their voices and shutters clicking, and wondered how much longer my leg would take to be fully healed. But, thankfully, they didn't stay up there too long, and soon descended to rejoin me. I smiled inwardly as I suddenly realized how a dog must feel when he's been left outside a store for a while, and then his owner finally reappears, initiating heavy panting accompanied by furious tail wagging. I didn't do either of those, but I may have wiggled my butt a bit.  As we hiked back towards the cars I picked up some chunks of coal to take home for the garden as a consoling gift to myself and patted myself on the back for being so sensible. I must be getting old...

 Elliott and I began our way back home, leaving the others to return on a different route. They were going to Hamburg to see some old trains, a trip I'd made many years ago, and we were going to drop in to an auto salvage yard. When we arrived the sign indicated that they were closed, but we drove in regardless, hoping we'd be allowed to take some photos. The owner was a little grumpy at first but soon relented, and let us in for 30 minutes. He pointed out where the vintage wrecks were and we headed over there, after thanking him prolifically, and promising him we'd leave on time.

We had to work fast, not having the time to plan our shots or explore fully, but it felt great to just be out here with Elliott, both of us enjoying our hobby. I often marvel at how fortunate I am to have found a partner in life who loves doing most of the activities I enjoy. Well, almost, he doesn't like line dancing... We stayed in a small area of the salvage yard, ever conscious of the time we had, which of course whizzed by and it felt like only 5 minutes later that we left, just before our 30 minutes limit had lapsed, and drove home to Front Royal.