This is not the post I was going to write.

Earlier this week I drove up to Prince George, the major metropolis of 80 000 inhabitants 120km north of here, with the Colinator. We had to wait around town for a couple of hours, and so drove out to his in-laws for lunch. The Väliahos, who hail from Finland, live on a beautiful 5 acre smallholding complete with sheep, a lagoon, a true Finnish sauna (pronounced /sau̇-nə/ and not /sônə/ like we would in English), and vibrant, picturesque flower boxes and pots.

It was awash with amazing photo opportunities. And then, as I wandered outside, snapping the aforementioned subjects, I found wrecked car after wrecked car – apparently hauled onto the property by their son, who keeps threatening to restore them. And that is where this blog post morphed completely.

Although the naturally-beautiful subjects called out to be photographed, and would probably have elicited oohs and ahs of approval from my readers, I was drawn to the beauty found in the wrecks. I know Mrs Väliaho sees them as an abomination, worthy only of the scrapheap, but I thought they were delightful in their decrepitude. How about I just shut up now and let the photos speak for themselves?

Beautiful in the grass
1950s Ford Mainline
Ford steering wheel through the broken back window; sagging ceiling and all.
Rusting colours
Beautiful Volkswagen
The Beetle’s modest interior.
VW 1500. Junk Trunk.
Holiday Rambler

I still plan on doing a more comprehensive post on old, retired vehicles here in Quesnel, BC, where this scene is so typical. For now, however, I hope you enjoyed this appetizer, and were able to smile nostalgically at the beauty found in these beat-up, retired relics.


4 thoughts on “Beautiful

  1. I love the old vw’s they are fantastic! I have snapped a few photos of oldies as I call them, oh the stories they could tell!

  2. Oh, man, you’re so lucky to come across wrecks like these. I spent hours in a local wreck yard in Umtata as a 12 or 13 year old .. school holidays .. nothing better to do .. friends .. hot cracked red leather/plastic seats .. cracked dashes .. hard-rimmed (could it have been bakelite) steering wheels .. the atmosphere, sense of cars previously loved, and the imagined trauma of other people’s crashes .. even terrible endings .. that could never happen to me .. this all comes back to me whenever is see stuff like this .. you might collect as many of these as you can and then publish them in a photo-book – e.g. check out

  3. I love old things, I love the history behind it, wondering about who the people were who used them. Who were they? What was going on in the world at the time? What I see as old they saw as normal, like when Tony and I were trespassing on someone’s old homestead in Alberta and I was looking through the piles of old junk from old farm equipment. Who were these people? What was life like for them?
    Robin if you haven’t been, you would love Alberta and Saskatchewan and the photo opportunities with these old fossils lying around. My mom showed me their old homestead once, still standing and the wall paper inside (which was actually newspaper over the sod.
    I could stare for hours at photos like these old cars and wonder.

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