I remember stopping at places like that on long car trips with the family when I was knee-high to a colorful expression. I can almost smell the brazier-cooked hamburgers (though we generally just had cold sandwiches at those places, other people grilled things) and the pine needles. And I remember the squeek of the water pumps with the long handles you'd operate manually, working so hard for the merest trickle of rusty or sulfuric water.
I found that shot really evocative too, and of just the sort of thing you describe so nicely here.
Our group also didn't grill but ate stuff ready-to-go outta the picnic basket. And my Great Aunt Zoe (and her husband Henry) had one of those pumps in their backyard. Lotsa sense memory there.
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Our group also didn't grill but ate stuff ready-to-go outta the picnic basket. And my Great Aunt Zoe (and her husband Henry) had one of those pumps in their backyard. Lotsa sense memory there.
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