Somewhere, a bit inland from the coast of Northern California, lies the remains of a defunct, eerie fun park. The rusted roller coaster tracks and six foot weeds don’t give this spooky place a very amusing feel anymore.
While slipping through a creaky gate to get some photos, a local emerged out of nowhere and warned us of legends of a crabby old property owner. As my shutter snapped away, I heard some rustling noises in the direction of a corroded trailer propped up among the weeds. Expecting a shotgun to appear through the trailer’s open door at any moment, I scrambled to get some last photos before bolting back towards the fence.
I don’t mention the location of this place because I get the impression the owner doesn’t like people digging around through his stuff. I just grabbed as many photos as possible because, from the looks of everything, rust is winning the battle against the decaying remains of a once happy place.