It was somewhere off route 62 that we came across this beauty. An abandoned railway station.
We pulled up next to it and nonchalantly looked inside. Wow. Piles of beautiful wood just waiting for us to rescue them from one of two sad fates: either sitting there and rotting for the next forty years, or getting sent to a landfill and rotting for the next forty years. Hmm. Considering our option doesn't include rotting at all, they were quite happy for me to jump inside and take what was rather easily accessible.
A woman and her son pulled up next to our truck to make sure we hadn't broken down (everybody is so nice!) and we asked them if they knew anything about the railway station. She said that it had been sitting there, exactly like that, for her entire life, and she was sixty years old. She seemed a little confused that we were interested in that old wood (but then again most people we meet here at least a little confused by us) but she was happy enough that someone might put a bit of it to good use.
Perhaps the strangest thing about this? There was a crowbar sitting right in front of the broken down entrance, as if it were waiting for me. So after half an hour, and some serious crow-barring, I got about ten long, wide planks of wood that were once the inside of the roof. I was thrilled. What an addition to our collection!