Rock Crawling Over Hell Itself AKA One Does Not Just Drive Into Mordor.... Unless You're Us.

No, that's not a picture out of the 2013 FJ Cruiser brochure (although it really should be). And no, I didn't take it. But I was there riding along as me, The Future Ex-Mrs.-Wallio, and two of our mates drove through the closest thing to hell itself on God's green Earth.

OK back story time. The Fontenovas have been my friends for a while. I started working with Amanda years ago in Scranton when I was a young pup trying to break into both the racing world, and the wonderful world of historians. Amazingly enough we work together again in the Valley, now that I'm dabbling with both of my careers (she knew me before I was the Unquestioned, Undisputed Holder of the Title of World's Fastest Historian). And Geoff, her husband, has been there every step of the way. Geoff and I hit it off right away. We of course share many interests (Cowboy Bebop and Nerdy chicks being just two), and are both quite Italian (different regions but still). However, I think we get along so well because Geoff (to me at least) is an older, more refined and sophisticated (and if ego's no object) more bad ass version of myself. I grow a scraggly mess of an attempt at a beard, Geoff rocks a perfectly trimmed and curled handlebar 'stach. I drink really any kind of beer, Geoff is a knowledgeable beer snob micro-brew enthusiast. You get the idea. One thing Geoff is that am not is an amazing photographer. He took the picture on top of the page, and a few others below (you'll see the difference, trust me because whereas I only take pictures to clue my bleary-eyed hungover self in as to where I was the night before, he's actually good at it and enjoys it). He's shot some of the awesome high speed shots featured on this blog before. Check out his blog: http://gacphotography.blogspot.com/ The fact that the Future Ex-Mrs.-Wallio likes them is icing on the cake. We're discussing more trips like these, and if that happens Geoff may very well become the fourth man here on Tuned, which means he'll have to pick a nickname.......(maybe just G, like the quiet bad ass from House of the Dead? The video games, not the movie, and shame on you for asking......)

Anyway, back on topic, long-drawn out and uncharacteristically soft back story over. While we mostly (OK entirely, so far) focus on racing and speed here on Tuned (well except Hollywood of course) there are many other awesome things you can do in a car. Road Trips and Rock Crawling are two of them. Road Trips are self-explanatory, and if their not, leave America right the hell now, as you make me weep. Rock Crawling, on the ther hand, is another matter. Basically you find the steepest, roughest terrain and go over it. Its called crawling for a reason, as speed isn't an issue. 0-60 times, skid pad numbers and horsepower are not important. Approach and break over is where its at. I don't have much experience crawling myself, as I'm a tarmac guy, but I know the basics. Geoff wanted to go down to Centralia (more on why later) and crawl around and asked me to be his spotter. Basically a spotter is like a rallye co-driver, telling the driver about shit that will ruin his day, and giving him advice on how to avoid it. While I had only limited experience spotting for an ex-gf and her CJ7, I never shut up (spotters have to give a constant stream of info to the driver), so I knew I was up to the challenge.

Our adventure started as all great road trips do: at a diner. Over egg sandwiches, ham hash, toast and the mandatory 6 gallons of coffee, we discussed our plan (we didn't have one, why would we?) and set off. After about an hour, we became lost, but none of us cared as we stumbled upon a windmill farm.

With no signs posted forbidding entry we wandered over mesmerized. While I'm certainly no windmill fan, these amazed even me. You never realize how big they truly are (that what's she said!) and how loud they are. Years at the race track have destroyed my hearing, but even I found the loud hum a little surreal. This video (poorly) captures it. Geoff has a better one on his blog.

After we stood gaped mouthed for awhile staring and taking pictures, we loaded up and headed for Centralia, But not before I took a quick picture of the ladies. Here you can see the Future Ex-Mrs.-Wallio looking stoned, and Amanda looking at her IPhone likes its a Star Trek scanner. Or maybe she had an epic game of Angry Birds going, I dunno.

We soon reached the Ghost Town of Centralia. Quick back story number 2: A raging mine fire has been burning under the town for nearly a century (and if you believe the EPA will burn for two centuries more!). Only 13 people still live there, and as they move out their houses are bulldozed immediately. Smoke, heatwaves and noxious fumes still come up from various places in the ground, and the earth is burned and jagged in places. The stench of sulfur hangs in the air, and random sinkholes opening up are not that uncommon. Besides the half a dozen houses, only 3 cemeteries still remain. Pretty crazy eh? Just like out of Dante's Inferno.

As that video shows, we easily went over the hill designed to keep cars off Old Route 61. Geoff's FJ is a Trail Teams Edition meaning its loaded with TRD goodies, like skidplates, locking diffs, a badass gauge cluster, and lower gears. While I don't like Japanese cars, Tojo always could make trucks, and this 4 litre beast was no exception. We entered Old 61, which to me looks like the Nurburgring, if it was left fallow for a few years. My dream would be to get a moderately fast car on there, as its a decent stretch of road, and could be made fun, especially in something AWD like a Lancer, but alas, far too many people have discovered this oddity so there was plenty of foot traffic. We were the only car though, which got us some surprised looks and envious stares (although to be fair plenty of quads and dirt bikes were out).

While my crappy photo doesn't do it justice, the crack in the last picture had some smoke coming out of it. As you can see, everything is rather scorched. The trend continued as we plowed on into Centralia itself.

This is my version of the "FJ advert" shot from above and it sucks, but it gives you an idea of how barren and desolate Centralia is.  This area here had fumes so thick it was hard to breathe. And a smoking hole (wow can't believe I just said that) as seen here:

(Obviously, Geoff took that one). This video should give you an idea about what we went through, or more accurately, over:

After visiting the cemeteries, having a picnic in Hell, and chatting up some other visitors (damn place really was like Grand Central Station) we left, but not before stopping to view what the mines had down to the local creek. See for yourself.

I like flavored water, but that's a bit much. We returned to the Fontenova compounded for an adult beverage and a book swap (The Godfather for Ron Jeremy's autobiography, one of the most epic trades of our time) where I was my usual self, commandeering the TV to watch the Gatornationals. We then did some bench racing until the Future Ex-Mrs.-Wallio got bored and it was time to retire. Geoff seems to want to work out the FJ again, and I'll keep spotting as long as he'll have me, so hopefully another trip will be a go soon. One thing is for sure, it will get good coverage on the interwebs. Until then what better way to hold you over than with this blooper/outtake? Cause if you don't have at least one or two, you ain't tryin hard enough!