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Sprague Wa

As ever  I pull off the highway to find the perfect breakfast.  And I found Sprague while bumming around  south eastern  Washington. Hwy 90.
Just another dusty  dieing town. Birthed from the railroad.  Boomed with  the railroad. And a center for the wool industry in the area. 
Later it was on the the highway system, one of the towns on a AAA triptych. Then killed  as the interstate bipassed all of the small towns. 
But wait. This place is different, really different. And weird. I was driving around,  looking for a place to eat and there was this yard full of old cars.
The more I drove, the more cars I found.  And trucks old work horse trucks. 
I finally found a restaurant.  Good food, except the sausages. They were horrible. 
The waitress, also the owner, told me the story of the trucks. It seems that one guy started collecting old trucks, and more trucks.  And  people would give him worn-out work trucks.  Then other people started doing it. Now there are hundreds of beautiful old beasts. 
Apparently there are people on the city council that don't like it, think it is undignified. But I hope they don't  find a way to get rid of the old trucks. 
Here are a bunch of random photos.  There were some that made me think of some of you. 
This last photo sorta sums up the whole thing 

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