A road trip find perhaps only fully appreciated when it requires pulling off, navigating a field of pines and palmettos eyes narrowed to watch for rattle snakes, two sets of railroad tracks, and navigating a couple of water-filled ditches while grasping our camera straps between teeth to scramble through thick underbrush. We only stuck around a few minutes, but the sheer scale was astounding. Logs stacked stories high, curved into a stadium whose purpose was closed to us. We felt like sneaks.
The black and white photos are Tommy's and the polas, mine.
I particularly love the sculptural quality in this last image: a smidgen Martin Puryear, a lot Tim Johnson.