Auto junk yards are an inescapable part of the American landscape. North, south, east, west--you'll find them everywhere. Seems our cars, loveable though they may be, are nonetheless destined for a perch atop the great scrap heap in the sky.
But a bicycle graveyard? This I've never seen. I always figured the unwanted and unloved bikes of America were to be found in the dusty corners of the family garage, where they lean, rusted and spidered with webs, in forgotten repose.