Over the years, Monica and I have been fairly lucky in our hunt for classic cameras to shoot with. A vintage Rolleicord from a thrift shop, an old view camera from a barn, and pretty much everything in between.

The thing that had eluded us however was any camera from Leica. This could be for any number of reasons. Leica’s were expensive in their day and in many circles toy cameras (35mm was a small negative at the time), so they just don’t tend to show up in the odd box or barn.

The other side of the coin is that Leica is a name that too often conjures the notion of rarity and value when it comes to cameras. It’s unlikely then that you’d just find one lying around.

Which is why when I found one in a dumpster it was all the more strange.

You’re going to get murdered in the middle of nowhere

Having spent a good portion of a my Saturday developing film with the kids, I sat down on the couch late in the afternoon to kick my feet up and enjoy a glass of lemonade.

“Have you trawled today?” came a shout from Monica down the hall.

No, I hadn’t had the time to look at the various estate and garage sales listing to hunt for camera and darkroom parts. The finds from those sales often kept many of our cameras running, given my rotating need for very specific parts.

It’s too late in the day I thought to myself. My fingers didn’t get that message through and soon I was looking at postings. Flicking through a list in zombie mode, a post stood out which said:

Leica camera for sale, left over from estate sale. Text if interested.

Surely this post wasn’t legit. There were no pictures, no information. I was sure it was a scam.

I sent the text anyway.

The reply stated they still had the camera, and that based on it’s location was over an hour and half away, in the middle of nowhere.

“You can’t go out there, you’re clearly going to get murdered,” Monica stated.

Satellite imagery clearly showed a single farm house and barn, in the middle of nowhere. That’s the thing about the good finds: they’re always in a place from a horror film.

So I did what any reasonable person would do. I got in the car and started driving.

It was on this table, but it’s in the dumpster now

The long drive allowed time to prepare my mind for what I could only assume was going to be me wielding an axe or farm implement of some sort as I fought my way out with freshly discovered Leica in tow.

Yeah, that’s right, the Leica was still in the murder escape daydream. We’re on a mission here people.

As I pulled onto the dirt driveway and proceeded to the house I knew that murder was not in the cards today. A huge skip the size of a freight car was overflowing with items and debris, a surefire sign that this indeed was an estate sale at one point.

Greeted by a well dressed women in her 60’s, I was cordially invited into the house and led to the kitchen. The house was empty and dimly light, the sun sitting low on the horizon out the one window in this small but well kept farm house.

A man of similar age walks into the kitchen and we shake hands. He points to the camera on the counter, except there isn’t one.

“I could have sworn it was there. One of the kids must have thrown it out.”

If it’s in the skip, I’ll happily go hunting for it I reply.

He’s agreeable to this plan and so we go outside and I proceed to survey the situation.

This skip is serious. It has a century worth of rusted nails and things that aren’t supposed to be in a skip like farm grade pesticide. Me being super prepared, I break out the HAZMAT suit and my trusty pick axe and dive in.

Yeah, I don’t carry a HAZMAT suit. I was not prepared for this camera hunting scenario. I didn’t even know if my tetanus booster was up-to-date (it was not). Maybe murder would come from the tetanus? Maybe that’s what Monica meant? Thank goodness I at least wore the work boots.

Not what I expected

Now, the camera was apparently in a box. The box was not small, but it wasn’t big either. These were the tips I had to work with.

I presumed it would be on top of the stack, that turned out not true. I presumed it would be a brown box. Also didn’t turn out to be true.

Having now dug around, I stumble upon a the box in question. It’s not exactly what I expected.

But wait, what’s this label on the side of it say?

Surely it’s not in this box.

Yep, it’s in the box.

A Leica IIIc with a pristine 5cm f/2 Summitar. Not a rare I’ll-see-you-at-auction Leica, but rather a much better kind in my opinion: one that works. Winding and hearing the light and crisp snap of the shutter was music to my ears. Regardless of the box, Carl the photographer had taken great care of this camera.

We agreed upon a fair price and I drove away a little cut up and bloody from the skip dive, but one more camera to shoot with and not murdered.

If there is a moral of this story, it’s never not try your hand at acquiring tetanus. Or something along those lines. Whatever, I’ve gotta a dumpster Leica to go shoot with now.

Those are words I would not have expected to say. Ever.