Racks and Stacks

As I continue seeking things to play on and with, I have to go further afield from my known stomping grounds, or I have to dig deeper within them. The latter was the case on Monday, as I scooted on Z through areas I had shot for "Pass That Dutch" and "Shorty, Put it on the Floor". The first thing I saw was a small cluster of wheeled racks (for clothes?) in an alleyway behind a business that was open and active. When I first rode through, there was a worker dumping out trash right next to the racks, and so I moved on. But nothing else was calling me, and the racks seemed like an ideal first dance, so I made my way back to the alley. After setting up and rolling the camera, I snuck up to the racks, and wheeled one away. Damn, they were loud! I half expected to be shut down before I even got the rack down to my camera. But I actually got in a good three minutes or so, before one of the workers yelled at me to bring the rack back.

I wheeled the rack to them, a tiny bit wary. There was a bunch of guys, who evidently had watched the ending of my play. But that was the good part; they were too amused by how much fun I was having, to really get negative with me. The guy who had first yelled, and who seemed to be in charge of getting the rack back from me, could barely contain his smile, and even thanked me, as I dropped off the rack, thanked them, and headed out.

The big smoke stack thing also allowed a serendipitous window of opportunity. The sun was near to setting; just as I set up my camera and walked over to it, the owner of the one car that was in the shot came out of the plant, and drove off. Not only did he clear the car from my frame, but he missed catching me climb, by about 30 seconds.

Climbing up to the apparatus, I had to pass a window into the plant. I could see a worker within, but his back was turned to me, and all the machinery around him was very noisy, so I just scaled and trusted.

I had some mental stories about how there would be flimsy electrical conduit all around the apparatus (there wasn't) and how offensive it might be to the workers that I play on their machine. I never tested the latter theory, but it turned out the apparatus, as impressive as it is, was not functional, and sat open and rusted. It turned out to have a great surface for dancing and climbing, and I played until the sun went down.