ALMBWABPBIDCFERTIE_11

Didn’t really feel like cutting up cars Saturday afternoon. Very hot day and I was already bedraggled from mowing two lawns and pruning some trees, but put a new blade on the grinder, charged the battery and headed off. Inspiration would have to wait.

Walked up again in the direction of Mt Nebo – steep for the first twenty minutes or so, then a prickly traverse to a dirt section of O’Brien’s road and an easier stroll along the top of a ridge. Kept looking down on either side of the ridge for dumped vehicles. Came across washing machines and sinks, but no cars. I could sense that I was being drawn back inexorably to the long slide of dumped cars described in ALMBWABPBIDCFERTIE_04, but still hoped to stumble on something more accessible. The hornet hum of Mt Kembla trail bikes in the distance reassured me that nothing that I could do could possibly attract audible attention. Took a detour down to a saddle clearing that I’d visited some years before. I recalled a small decrepit shed and various piles of rubbish. Perhaps there would be a car? The shed and rubbish were still there, but the weeds had been cut back and some stray boulders pushed into piles. In any case, no sign of a wrecked vehicle so headed back up to O’Brien’s road and the slippery-dip automotive graveyard.

Turned left at the slight trail and made my way down once again through the steep forest that runs alongside the slide of dumped cars. Part of the way down I followed a deer trail across to the other side. A white Ford Falcoln ute hung suspended in the bush above me. But since I already had two bits of white car, I left it alone, retraced my steps and continued downwards. I reached my previous low point and wondered what to do next. Then I spotted a single red car panel poised on the final slope above the creek. I took some initial photographs and considered how I could remove a square section as cleanly as possible. The cutting proved difficult. It was wkward to stand on the steep slope. I wore through an entire grinding disk before eventually freeing the square.

I spent some time at the bottom photographing the cut out shell and the view back up through the forest. In the darkness of this hidden and inauspicious space, I felt as though I were a diver tarrying a little too long at an unaccustomed and dangerous depth – yet still not wanting to leave.

Looking back up

The wander back home was uneventful. Late afternoon, early evening. Light clouds in the sky.

Red shell

Skin

Cut out

Square

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