Renegades, Warriors and Barbarians

click photo to enlarge
We all have our failures in life; some great and others small. One of my relatively small failures was buying a car. Anyone who has read this blog with any sort of regularity may recall that for a long time I tried to stick with public transport and the bicycle, but I eventually succumbed to four wheels  following the birth of our second child and a couple of "difficult" experiences on the railways as Margaret Thatcher's government starved them of resources in the run-up to privatisation. However, despite my ownership of a modest vehicle I still believe, to adapt George Orwell's words in his novel, Animal Farm, "two wheels good, four wheels bad", and I still much prefer riding to driving.

I also retain fairly forthright views on cars and people's attitudes to them. For example, I consider sports cars and 4X4s to be anti-social vehicles. However, I also find a lot of humour in all vehicles powered by the infernal combustion engine. For instance, over the years I've watched with interest the increasing popularity of the four-seater pickup. You know the sort of thing - its a mixture of a car, 4X4 and old-style pickup van. I've also looked on with amazement as they've got bigger and bigger. But the thing about these vehicles that has most grabbed my attention is the silly names with which the manufacturers adorn them. In fact, I've been so fascinated by these that I keep a mental list of them that I try to update when a new example appears. So far I've recorded Renegade, Warrior, Wrangler, Outlaw, Animal, Gladiator, Trojan, Barbarian and Rodeo. There are probably more that I've forgotten, and I know that ever more ludicrous examples will appear (I suggest Vandal and Visigoth). Now I'm sure that there is a small group of people for whom such vehicles are entirely appropriate. But I'm equally sure that there's a large group of people (mainly but not exclusively men) for whom the size, the macho appearance, the "just in case" utility, and yes, those silly names, make them objects of great desire. Why have a bog-standard hatchback or saloon when you can be a rugged outlaw of the road that causes lesser vehicles to scatter at the very sight of your entirely superfluous bull-bars?

On a return journey from one of my regular but brief visits north of the River Humber we stopped off at the bridge that links Yorkshire with Lincolnshire. We trekked out to the middle of the enormous span and took in the view down to the city of Hull and upstream towards South Ferriby, Winteringham and beyond. As the traffic flashed by I took a few shots of the suspension cable anchors, looking to contrast the blurred vehicles with the sharpness of the bridge's structure. The best of the shots was this one with, yes,  an over-sized pickup with a rear take-off cover and bright yellow ladders strapped to the top.

photograph and text © Tony Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 24mm
F No: f8
Shutter Speed: 1/160
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Rusty relics

click photo to enlarge

In a recent post I was pondering the attraction of decay, and the reasons why photographers are often drawn to scenes of dilapidation and dereliction. Look at any online galleries by enthusiast photographers and you will usually find examples of this genre. Moreover, if you look carefully you will also see photographs that constitute a subset of the category, namely the abandoned vehicle. Photographers in the United States seem drawn to shooting rusting cars and trucks abandoned in rural areas, vehicles thirty, forty, fifty years old and more, that are gradually succumbing to the weather and the weeds. Such images are certainly taken by people in the U.K., but I get the feeling that they are relatively far fewer, and I have sometimes wondered why this should be.

It's probably to do with land area and the density of population. In our small, crowded islands, space is at a premium, and waste ground where it does exist, tends to be put to a fresh use quite quickly. Many farmers (though by no means all) are obsessively tidy and dispose of old vehicles fairly promptly. Then there's the scrap metal price that attaches to such things. I've always thought that these are the reasons for fewer abandoned vehicles and hence fewer photographs: the luxury of unused open space of the sort that exists in the United States simply militates against it.

This open shed, stuffed with the gleanings of decades, shows what happens to a few old vehicles: they get put to one side, collected with other odds and ends that might be useful or that could be renovated in years to come. The two old tractors and the small car tucked away at the back appear to be about sixty or so years old. Those wheels on the right look like they might be from traction engines. And the old lawn mower appears to have been stored with the intention of being repaired, and then forgotten. Whatever the reason for the collection I thought it might make an interesting photograph to pore over.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 13mm (26mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f7.1
Shutter Speed: 1/15
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: 0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On