Tag: rural abandonment

Stuckey’s Skeleton: Monuments to Velocity and Obsolescence

The photo of an abandoned Stuckey’s along I-76 in Colorado captures the decline of mid-century roadside travel due to economic shifts and infrastructure changes. With documentary clarity, it emphasizes architectural decay and cultural history, inviting viewers to reflect on both nostalgia and contemporary relevance while preserving a forgotten era of American mobility.

Abandoned roadside building with a former gas canopy and boarded storefront, covered in graffiti and surrounded by cracked pavement and weeds under a blue sky.
The abandoned remains of a former Stuckey’s at the Sedgwick exit along I-76 in northeastern Colorado.

In this documentation of a former Stuckey’s roadside station along Interstate 76 near Sedgwick, Colorado, the photographer captures a distinctly American form of ruin—one born not of catastrophe but of bypass, economic shift, and the relentless evolution of travel infrastructure. The image, positioned within Chapter 6 of his Top 100 Journey, reflects a thematic concern with both literal and metaphorical roads ahead, while simultaneously acknowledging what has been left behind.

The composition employs a wide-angle perspective that emphasizes the structure’s geometric severity against an expansive Colorado sky. The canopy’s angular red-and-white striping draws the eye leftward, while the weathered building facade—bearing faded lettering and graffiti-marked columns—anchors the right side of the frame. Between these elements lies cracked asphalt overtaken by scrub grass, a visual testimony to years of abandonment. The photographer positions himself at a slight distance, allowing the full scope of dereliction to register without sensationalizing the decay.

What distinguishes this work from mere urban exploration photography is its restraint. Rather than fetishizing abandonment or deploying dramatic processing techniques, the photographer presents the scene with documentary clarity. The natural light—diffused through wispy clouds—provides even illumination that reveals texture in the deteriorating surfaces without casting the scene into melodrama. A discarded pink couch in the lower right corner serves as an unexpected punctuation mark, a surreal domestic intrusion into commercial space that hints at the site’s reappropriation by transient visitors.

The Stuckey’s chain represents a specific era of American mobility—mid-century road travel when interstate commerce moved at human speeds and roadside stops functioned as destinations rather than mere interruptions. The photographer’s selection of this subject speaks to an interest in cultural archaeology, in preserving evidence of infrastructures that once defined travel experience but now exist as skeletal reminders of obsolete commercial models.

Within the context of Chapter 6’s “ongoing exploration,” this photograph demonstrates an expansion of the photographer’s subject matter beyond controlled studio environments and collaborative performances. Here, he engages with the built environment as found object, approaching landscape and architecture with the same compositional rigor previously applied to portraiture and experimental lighting. The decision to include this image alongside more technically innovative work suggests an artistic practice concerned with breadth as much as depth—a willingness to move between modes of image-making as the subject demands.

The personal dimension—referenced in the accompanying text through memories of hot dogs and pecan log rolls—remains deliberately absent from the photograph itself. This restraint allows the image to function on multiple levels: as architectural document, as cultural commentary, as landscape study. The photographer trusts the visual evidence to carry meaning without editorial intervention, letting viewers project their own relationships to such spaces.

As part of the Top 100 selection, this photograph confirms that the journey ahead need not always involve technical innovation or conceptual complexity. Sometimes it requires simply bearing witness to what time and economics have rendered irrelevant, preserving in two dimensions what three-dimensional space will not sustain much longer. The road ahead, this image suggests, is also paved with remnants of roads already traveled.

Corner House, Bosler Wyoming 2025: Architecture at the Edge of Erasure

In Chapter 6 of Greg Urbano’s Top 100 Journey, a photograph captures a deteriorating house in the ghost town of Bosler, Wyoming. The image illustrates the photographer’s exploration of abandonment, focusing on atmospheric conditions and the surrounding landscape. This work highlights the themes of decay, isolation, and the complexity of preservation amid a vanishing settlement.

Weathered wooden house with broken windows standing alone in grassland under an overcast sky in Bosler, Wyoming.
A deteriorating wooden house stands at a corner in the ghost town of Bosler, Wyoming.

In this recently captured photograph from Chapter 6 of Greg Urbano’s Top 100 Journey, the photographer documents a collapsing structure in Bosler, Wyoming—one of the few remaining witnesses to a town that has largely disappeared from both map and memory. The image exemplifies the photographer’s continued investigation into the material traces of Western settlement, while revealing new subtleties in his approach to documenting abandonment and temporal passage.

The composition centers on a weathered wooden dwelling, its steep-pitched roofline still asserting architectural intention despite advanced structural compromise. The building’s corner placement within the frame—echoing its designation as a “corner house”—creates a dynamic diagonal energy, the structure appearing to lean into the wind-swept grassland that now reclaims the site. Dark window openings punctuate the horizontal wood siding, which has weathered to rich amber and umber tones, each plank articulated by the diffused overcast light.

What distinguishes this work within the photographer’s recent output is his expanded attention to atmospheric conditions. The turbulent cloudscape dominates nearly two-thirds of the frame, its churning gray masses punctuated by occasional breaks of blue—a meteorological drama that mirrors the building’s own precarious state between persistence and collapse. This sky is not mere backdrop but active participant, suggesting the elemental forces that have contributed to the structure’s deterioration and will eventually complete its dissolution.

The surrounding landscape provides crucial narrative context. Collapsed outbuildings and fence remnants scatter across the middle ground, fragmentary evidence of what was once a more substantial settlement. Golden prairie grasses advance toward the dwelling’s foundation, their subtle movement implied even within the photograph’s frozen moment. The extreme horizontality of the High Plains extends to a barely perceptible horizon line, emphasizing the profound isolation of this site just north of Laramie, accessible from Highway 80 yet psychologically distant from contemporary traffic patterns.

From a technical standpoint, the photographer employs what appears to be a moderate wide-angle perspective, capturing sufficient environmental context while maintaining the building’s structural integrity within the frame. The exposure handles the challenging luminosity range of overcast conditions with nuance, preserving detail in both shadowed door openings and highlighted cloud formations. This balanced approach serves the documentary imperative while allowing for aesthetic contemplation.

Within Chapter 6’s thematic framework of “The Road Ahead,” this photograph functions as meditation on endings and continuations. Bosler exists now primarily as absence—a ghost town in the most literal sense—yet the photographer’s attention validates its remaining physical evidence as worthy of sustained consideration. His choice to include this work in his curated Top 100 Journey suggests an artist grappling with questions of what deserves preservation, at least photographically, when material preservation is no longer possible.

The work also demonstrates evolution in the photographer’s relationship to his subject matter. Where earlier chapters might have emphasized formal qualities or nostalgic resonance, this image presents abandonment as process rather than state—a building actively returning to landscape, caught mid-transition. The corner house stands as both monument and warning, its dignified decay offering no easy emotional resolution. This measured, clear-eyed approach marks the maturation of an artist comfortable with ambiguity, finding profundity in the unheroic persistence of structures at civilization’s receding edge.