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Seriously, we do <3 it. Way more than the rowdy kids from Jersey.
Like many cult tourists - such as the carload of stoner young'uns from the Garden State, who pulled up next to us upon arrival, who we promptly abandoned...and who we later saw driving through town hollering out their windows - our first moments in this central-PA ghost town noted for its underground coal mine fires were at the most obvious and visible site of said fires.
We quickly lost interest in this, however, and wandered elsewhere.
The abandoned eastern-Euro orthodox church was a good next stop.
Then on to the city blocks of nothing. Seriously, the most fascinating thing about this town is the utter absence of a town.
Furniture was ditched down a steep incline...
...and retaining walls of old properties are still visible...
...but so much of it, if you don't know what it is, could be mistaken for parkland or natural grounds. Or something.
Jeremy's shadow.
A stairway used to snug between those rocks. The house probably stood on the lawn, about where Nicole and Doc are standing.
Remnants of housing stand out.
Or blend in.
One of the retaining walls that remained had captivating vine coverage...
...and remnants of a paint job, making for curious abstracts.
On the edge of a hill, camera held aloft, looking from one side of town to the other.
Actual stairs led up to a giant lawn we presume was either a school or municipal building...more shots of this once I get my film developed.
This reptilian fellow was the first sign of life we encountered. Though we saw the few remaining houses that still had people living / squatting in them. We just didn't see many of the people. And when we did, we weren't rude enough to snap gawker-y pics of them.
Seriously, though. Big ass snake.
One of the lampposts was charred from ground to top. We couldn't tell if this was because of the coal fires underground or if this was the prankings of dumbass local kids.
Jeremy's rural attire saved us from any harsh ostracization at the hands of the townies.
A representative wide shot. City blocks, but no city.
One of my favorites pics of the day. Normally I hate flower photos, but since so much of the art surrounding Centralia paints it as this dead, desolate town, I like this shot showing that it supports life.
Green bench.
Grey road.
Now we get into the more typical Centralia shots. Abandoned highway, buckled asphalt. I'd be remiss if I went there and didn't shoot this, though.
People toss newspaper stacks in the cracks...
...because it smolders and chars.
The most goth shot I took all day.
The abandoned stretch of SR-61 is graffito-tagged...
...kinda heftily, I might add.
The first of our many pit stops on the way out was neighboring Ashland, where many ex-Centralia residents relocated.
Normally I'd be opposed to the visual interference of jutting electrical wires cutting across the town's landmark statue. But for some reason, I kind of dig it here.