#AbandonedGrandmaHouse 34 years after grandma passed away - how do I know that intel? I located the details amongst evidence and photo albums left behind in the house. This place has been largely overlooked, hidden and unseen tucked away in the #SonoranDesert by jagged cactus and rock and protected by time from vandals, etc! I don't intend to give out details either. RIP to this grandmother; makes me wonder where the family has gone based on the photo albums!? #LostAmerica #ruraldecay #southernarizona #sonoran #arizonahighwaysmagazine (at Somewhere in Arizona) https://www.instagram.com/p/CXbav3bJO_d/?utm_medium=tumblr

Abandoned doorway. . . . #deserted #america #blight #realamerica #nicedays #spring #pennsylvania #urbandecay #lostamerica #forgotten #urbanblight #derelict #wouldlookbetterusingacanon @canonusa #winkwinknudgenudge #fingerguns #imanidiot #inappropriate #internet

Roadside America Closes (:

Today work hills with backpack full of sand!!! #Maui #Hawaii #kiheimaui #altonsanders #connection #wwwspiritualfitnessbiz #closure #TakeOver #LostAmerica #AlotOfEvilInAmerica #TimeForJailElite #HereComesTheHammer #YouThoughtYouHadItRights #WorkHardSoYouAreBlind #420lifestyle #vaccinekillers #hiking #5daysinaperfectworld #WakeUp https://www.instagram.com/p/B_dlWdyndHb/?igshid=vo6tbm6unz70

Lost America : Third chapter . . #america #usa #desert #southwest #lostamerica #troypaiva #photography #photooftheday #photo #photographer #photographylovers #photos #photogrid #photograph #photoart #photographie #shot #shots #aesthetic #aestheticedits #aesthetics #potd #surrealism #art #artist #artoftheday #artwork #light #retro #retroaesthetic @troypaiva https://www.instagram.com/p/B8VNi1IJabE/?igshid=1lzyck62ql88b

Los Angeles | 2019 The boys #LostAmerica #SkateVibes w/ #KeenOne & @danny_montoya (at Los Angeles, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B3IAt0MFjlB/?igshid=vbky81ymlsoi

Lui è Troy Paiva e questa è la sua #LostAmerica. Il primo #fotografo di cui vi abbiamo parlato su @specialcafemagazine. Scopri il primissimo numero di #Special Cafe, clicca sul link e iscriviti alla newsletter entro il 15 settembre, riceverai in regalo Special Cafe #1in versione digitale! 👉 www.specialcafe.it/newsletter

In 1917 vigilantes drove several families out of the mountain settlement of Booger Hole, West Virginia. Read this story of blood, justice, and exodus at bit.ly/boogerhole. #feud #appalachia #history #darkhistory #lostamerica #crimestory #crime #blood #hatfieldsandmccoys #truecrime #vigilante #posse #mobjustice #justice #controversial #controversy

https://www.flickr.com/photos/lostamerica/3269117209/

The things you see in the middle of the desert outside Vegas when you stop to pee on long road trips! #breakingbad #roadtrip #lostamerica #desert #vegas #pee #drive #fun #travel #traveling #positivevibes #goodvibes #positive (at Las Vegas, Nevada)

#Hatchita #NewMexico is in the #bootheel of #NewMexico between Between #FarWestTexas and #SouthernArizona and boy is it the perfect place to be stuck in the the past of #LostAmerica where time has left it behind. #HatchitaNewMexico! (at Hachita, New Mexico) https://www.instagram.com/p/BuKyEtBhXo9/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=t1tbksqmkyic

Ugly reflections . . . #america #urbandecay #lostamerica #forgotten #urbanblight #derelict #wouldlookbetterusingacanon @canonusa #winkwinknudgenudge

Old Camp Road, Rural Ruins, and the Origins of an Obsession

For as long as I can remember I have been intrigued with abandoned places.  If I have to think about it, I can trace this fascination all the way back to my early childhood.  Long before I had the opportunity to investigate the whereabouts of a derelict 1930′s Streamlined Seattle Ferry, or drive a desolate stretch of highway along the eerily deserted resort town ‘the Sultan Sea’ in the California desert, I’ve always had the desire to explore forgotten places.  Growing up in Southwestern Pennsylvania with an outdoor enthusiast for a father, there was never a loss of terrain to be explored and ample amounts of interesting abandoned places to see.  As a kid I spent much of my time hiking and hanging out in the woods with my Dad where we often stumbled upon abandoned, forgotten, or deteriorating structures.  Our neck of the woods is full of ghosts of time’s past and industries forgotten, like the old coal and coke ruins that litter our country side, or the forgotten railroads, tunnels, and bridges of once booming industrial towns, that are now just a shadow of what came before; rural remains that hold a mere glimpse of the relics of yesteryear.

I have many fond memories of one such magical place where I spent much of my time as an adolescent.  This was a place that in my family we affectionately referred to as ‘Camp’.  Some of my earliest memories involve traversing the back roads of central Pennsylvania up in to the Allegany Mountains for weekend trips to the old hunting camp with my father in his red ford truck.  The hunting camp had been around for several generations, and was a very special place for my family, but especially for him.  We spent many a weekends at camp throughout my childhood hiking, fishing, exploring, and generally cutting loose and having a splendid, undisturbed time.  

The trip up to the mountains was a 4 hour drive on winding back roads through small, forgotten, and decaying rural towns heading northeast from our home outside of Pittsburgh.  I remember how excited I would get when we finally got to the tail end of our long journey and would reach the much anticipated ‘camp road’.   It was a long and beaten dirt road that weaved its way through the deep forest, hugging the side of cliffs, and zigzagging back and forth and up and down hills along a desolate and remote path to our destination.  For a child, it was dramatic, terrifying, and exhilarating all at once.  A fact that my father played up when he would pull his big old truck up to the very edge of the highest and steepest cliff and pause to leave us teetering on the edge, terrified that we were on the verge of plummeting into the ravine below.  Yes, this cheap thrill was his idea of a good time and cleaver ruse, a frequent occurrence that has since caused me some long term trauma and mental anguish in my adult life.

The trek from the time we turned off of the state route onto ‘Camp Road’ would take us through nearly 20 miles of forest back in towards the remote hunting camp that my father shared with several other members.  After a long drive in an eternity of vast wilderness, finally you would emerge down the hill into the site of camp.   Barreling down the last leg of the road towards the scene of a vast valley sat two separate cabins, one with a very charming 1950s appeal, and the other with the obvious need for demolition.   Between the two was a quaint pond for fishing, swimming, and boating, and a big old barn that housed the tractor, and an ample supply of vermin, bats, and other wayward critters.  On all sides of the property were open fields and the forest beyond. The spot was serene and peaceful.  It felt like a million miles away from the hustle and bustle of day to day life and the worries of school, or work, or whatever we were taking a break from in our regular lives.  This weekend retreat is something that as an adult living in today’s world I can truly appreciate the need for, and see why my father loved it there so much back then.

At camp there we no phones, no TVs, no radios, or electricity.  We made our own entertainment during the day, and at night we’d read by the light of kerosene lanterns before turning in early to bed.    Growing up as a child of the 1980s, it wasn’t a far stretch to think that kids could make their own fun without the need for technology.  Aside from swimming in the lake, catching salamanders, or rafting in the nearby rivers and streams, one of our favorite activities at Camp was exploring the outer lying woods.  Whether it be by foot, by ATV, or snowmobile in the winter, we were given the taste of sweet freedom out in those woods, and it couldn’t be beat.  There were several neighboring seasonal hunting camps to be explored.  Many sat desolate for most of the year, and some sat empty and abandoned for what appeared to be several years.  

In the summer when we arrived at camp, one of my first orders of business would be to hike over to the nearest neighboring camp to spot a glimpse of my favorite old car that sat alone in the woods year after year.  It was a powder blue early 1960s station wagon, that had obviously been out there in the middle of nowhere for longer than I had been alive.  I’m not sure what the appeal was, but for some reason I was quite fascinated by this vehicle.  ‘What was it doing there’?  ‘How come nobody ever moved it’?  ‘If no one ever comes back for it, could we take it and fix it up so that I could drive it when I turned 16’?  My fascination lingered on until one year I came upon the spot to find that my dream car was gone.  Of course now I can assume that it was undoubtedly hauled off to the nearest junkyard, but back then I had some romantic notion that someone had rescued it from its long slumber to find new life out on the open highways, and restored to its former glory.  

The powder blue 60s era station wagon was not by any means the only abandoned interest of mine up at camp.  The woods were littered with interesting abandoned structures that were mine for the taking.  The road to camp itself was marked by a spooky old abandoned cabin (a cabin that has long since been demolished and removed only to be replaced by a newer cabin full of new life and new campers).  I remember one summer when after the long drive to camp, we approached our turn onto camp road only to find that part of that old cabin’s roof had completely caved in.  We stopped to take a look and peak inside.  Despite the fact that this structure had obviously collapsed due to deterioration issues and probably wasn’t safe to be explored by anyone (let alone children), we climbed in to take a closer look.  By and large this place was no more than a dilapidated old dump, but I was intrigued by the fact that inside the walls of this long forgotten cabin there were still signs of the life.  Old cupboards full of utensils and plates, musty old furniture, and pictures still dangling from nails in the walls stood to serve as a reminder of the previous tenants who had left it all behind. The place itself and the treasures hidden within were all relics of another era perfectly preserved in time.  

Exploring abandoned structures still leaves me with the same uneasy and excited feelings today that I felt as a kid.  Wondering things like, ‘are we allowed to be here?  What if we get caught?  Is the floor about to cave in?  Is there a critter hiding behind that corner?  Is some Scooby-Doo-esque crotchety old man about to emerge toting a shot gun to chase us ‘pesky kids’ off his property?’  You just don’t know when you’re in the middle of the investigation.  There are plenty of things that you are probably better off not finding out, but these things never really act as a deterrent to the determined explorer.  You get in, get out and move on…hopefully unscathed, and un-accosted.   It all feeds in to the element of surprise and uncertainty that makes exploring abandoned places so appealing and exhilarating in the first place.  

As a kid exploring the old rotting cabin back on Camp Road, I found myself very caught up in the mystery of it all, and especially the story that the artifacts told.  The feeling of being there, of smelling the old stale air, of being in a place preserved in a moment in time that had been left behind and untouched for many years; all of that added up to the allure.  I always found myself left with more questions than answers.  ‘What became of this place’s former owner?  Why had they left this place and all of their things behind?  Did they have to get out in a hurry?  Where were they now?’  Those feelings of intrigue that come with the unknown have stuck with me since back in those early days of exploration.  They still seem to present themselves every time I find myself exploring a new forgotten relic.  That feeling of intrigue, of fear, and excitement doesn’t change in the pursuit of exploring abandoned places.  It is the same now at 34 as it was back when I was 9 years old.  It doesn’t leave me, and it never really goes away.

Social Distancing on Maui. Love my life, so grateful to have found PEACE OF MIND on times external control. Who is really in charge? NO THING!!! #Maui #Hawaii #kiheimaui #altonsanders #connection #wwwspiritualfitnessbiz #closure #TakeOver #LostAmerica #AlotOfEvilInAmerica #TimeForJailElite #HereComesTheHammer #YouThoughtYouHadItRights #WorkHardSoYouAreBlind #420lifestyle #vaccinekillers #In5DAYS https://www.instagram.com/p/B_Wmx9yH3ZY/?igshid=1rcw5q7oxhtpj

Lost America : Next chapter . . #america #usa #southwest #desert #lostamerica #troypaiva #photo #photography #photooftheday #photographer #photoshoot #photographylovers #photos #photogrid #photograph #photoart #shot #aesthetic #aesthetics #aestheticedits #light #night #nightphotography #nightsky #picoftheday #potd #picture #pic #pictures #beautiful @troypaiva https://www.instagram.com/p/B8U6IXGp7Ol/?igshid=agavgg8cl20s