I used to love going to junk yards as it was a chance to experience the
weirdest parts of culture. The people who you were likely to see there
looked as if they belonged in some artsy movie. Now all the junk yards
have gone to computerized systems and they send their parts all over
and rarely allow you to roam at will.
Last time I was in one was when I was looking for a brake drum for a
'58 ford F100 in the mid 80s. The proprietor told me tjhey kept all
the removed ford drums in that old yeller truck over yonder. I went
over with my old drum and calipers and the collapsed truck cab was
filled with old brake drums which I started going through. After awhile
I was fairly deep into the pile with my body almost all the way inside
the old truck when DAMN, hornets. They were nesting inside one of the
drums. Hit my head almost hard enough to knock myself out after being
bit a couple times and then ran like hell. I soon outran em and
thought i was lucky till I looked behind and DAMN again, the junkyard
dogs were after me. They musta been trained to chase anybody running.
I made it outa the gate and thought "Screw this" and went and found my
JC Whitney catalogue, money savings be damned.