A Fall Foliage Roadtrip
Saturday we went on a fall escapade to the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania. For years we have visited the Poconos in search of good times, beautiful scenery, inspiration, cool mountain air. We have never been disappointed in our quest. Many family get-togethers have been  had in various State Parks up in the mountains. My Dad, who helped build the State Parks as part of the Depression Work Program known as The Civilian Conservation Corps. He was always proud of his work and the experiences that made him the man he was. We scattered his ashes in the Pine Creek Gorge in the State Park he loved in the Endless Mountains of Pennsylvania.

Yesterday, we decided to humor Vic by following his new toy, a GPS that tells you what route to follow as you are travelling. It warns you when you need to turn and tells you when you have not followed its direction by blaring, "Off route. Recalculating." It took us on the most circuitous route I have ever followed to the Poconos.

It turned out well because we found the town of Centralia, a town that doesn't exist on the map anymore because the State of Pennsylvania relocated all the residents 20 years ago. An underground mine fire had rendered the town uninhabitable because of unstable ground and noxious gases. Pets and cars disappeared - swallowed up by the earth's inferno. As we drove past  a place devoid of the colorful foliage we had come to expect, we noticed a sign:
What luck! We KNEW it had to be Centralia! So we parked the car next to the sign and got out.  The stench of sulfur greeted us as we tread on the gravelly  ground. Not more than 5 feet past the sign, was a smoldering grass plot, and 10 feet beyond that, a smoldering  piece of ground.
Marcus and I decided to walk on the deserted street, up the hill. What we gazed upon was complete devastation of a town that had once been a vibrant mining town. I felt as if I were in a horror film of some sort. I am sure the former inhabitants felt that way more than a little.
You can see where the ground has collapsed - houses use to line this street.
Noxious gases escape from pipes that jut out from the ground in various places throughout our walk. A strong smell of sulfur hung in the air. We didn't spend too much time there and kept checking to make sure each of us was still upright.

While we were walking, a car pulled up and asked us the way to Centralia. "You're here," we replied. The driver and passengers were increulous - looking for the houses that had been gone for years.

The log below is actually smoking. The scene below that is the playground that once was. All that's left are the twisted steel pipes that were once the swings. Smoke pours from several sopts in the former children's play area.
Color among the gray.