When you’re spending upwards of 13 hours a day out on the roads that stretch between American metropolises, you find yourself with heaps of time to admire all the unusual relics that are tucked haphazardly along the countryside – and I use ‘countryside’ as a euphemism for the skeletal remains of what used to be our country’s glory days. There were the rusted old farming equipment sits beside dorky sculptures crafted out of busted tires, fanatical billboards, and more junkyards filled with dusty treasures than I could count.
In the second week of the trip, I was surprised by my route with a quick detour into Illinois. A member of the handful of states that I have never visited, skipping in through Illinois saw many hours of nothing but farmland and fields, hence its nickname as the Prairie State. During a particularly predictable stretch of interstate, I passed by a peculiar marquee sitting next to a dumpy old house on a dirt road.
With nothing better to do, I veered off the next exit and backtracked a few miles to the driveway where the sign stood. I felt a little scandalous on my first covert mission to take a picture on someone’s property, but I snapped away with my Nikon and my Canon to snag one of my favorite images from my adventure.
Antiques and what? I still want to know.