There is something ghostly about finding old cars in the woods. When I come across cars like this I can't help but try to tap back in time to get a sense what happened here. The imagination runs wild.
If it was a crash or stolen it probably would have been removed. It was abandoned. Pushed down the embankment. But why?
The old work truck has been here for decades. It belonged to a farmer before the government knocked on his door and made him an offer. The railroad was coming through. The farmer ended up in Pittsfield where he ran a bookstore for many years. Never married and childless, he died alone in 1974. Only one sister, Eunice from Caselton-On-Hudson, made it to the service.
This Ford Fairlane is at rest but not comfortably. After careening over the granite bridge wall it never really settled. But is firm in the ground.
The hood is gone. The driver side door is pulled open off the hinges like someone ripped at it violently. Maybe to pull someone out.
Someone smoked cigarettes here every morning on the way to work. WHYN 560 played Judy Collins, Both Sides Now. Unfastoned kids jumped around in the backseat. "I'm going to stop this car if you don't behave!" The car mostly ended up stopping for ice cream.
Bullet holes. It's now target practice. Here's an old Web site featuring some old cars in the woods in Farmington, Connecticut.