"Hey, why is Hazel writing the editorial this month?" Well, I'll get to that in a minute. But first I want to tell you a little story about my buddy and his old Land Cruiser.
Mike wheels harder than any guy I know. No matter how gnarly the obstacle, I've never seen him back away from a challenge off-road. As a result, he's rolled and flopped more times than anybody I've wheeled with, but he's also made some of the most heroic climbs I've witnessed. While his 'Cruiser is up to the task, all that hardcore wheeling upside-down and at extreme angles took a toll on the rig's 400-cube small-block Chevy engine. One night out in Johnson Valley the 400 just sorta gave up, developing a really bad knock from deep inside. Mike pulled the 'Cruiser into his garage, yanked the 400, and installed a 305 small-block Chevy in its place. That little engine pulled trail duty for the next few years, absorbing all kinds of punishment and giving 100 percent until one night, when Mike unknowingly punched a hole in the oil pan. The subsequent blast back to the campsite with no oil in the crankcase seized the engine, causing the 'Cruiser to skid rapidly to a halt. We filled the hole in the pan with JB Weld, added 1 1/2 quarts of engine oil, and pulled the 'Cruiser on a strap behind a Jeep, popping the clutch until the seized engine broke free and came back to life. The next morning, Mike topped off the oil in the crankcase and wheeled another couple of trips on that dinged 305 before deciding that as bad as it was, the old 400 on his garage floor was probably in better shape.
The 400 got slung back between the fenders and the funny thing was, after sitting in the garage for a couple years, it sorta worked fine again. The rod knock was hardly noticeable and it chugged along for another couple of years until an upside-down flop finally did it in for good. With a dead 400 and no money for a replacement, the 305 got reinstalled and it, too, seemed miraculously rejuvenated after a rest on the garage floor. In fact, it ran so well that to this day we still joke about the magical properties of the "garage-floor-rebuild."
But what does all this have to do with Jp magazine and why I'm writing this column instead of Cappa? Well, after 10 years of hardcore Editorship, some proverbial rollovers and flops, and many heroic climbs, Cappa threw a rod. No matter how gnarly or insane the obstacles, I've never seen an editor push as hard as he has to deliver such unparalleled quality in a magazine. But yesterday, he walked into my little cube, laid the keys to Jp's JK on my desk and told me he was done. Then he walked out to his pickup and left. Left Jp, left the magazine business, and left Southern California. I guess the cumulative effect of all those hate mail letters and all those deadlines were just as damaging to him as all those upside-down flops were for Mike's engines. Not too many people knew it about Cappa, but in addition to wrenching and wheeling Jeeps, he had aspirations of becoming a stage actor. So, that's what he's doing now. If you're in the Seattle area, check him out as Oberon in Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
As for me, I don't know if I'll prove as resilient as the 305 or as hard-charging as the 400. Maybe it's only a matter of time until Cappa's "garage floor rebuild" as a stage actor allows him enough recuperative energy to return to the magazine business. Maybe by then I'll have developed my own rod knocks as Editor of Jp. But until then, I'm gonna do my best at being the engine that powers this Jp machine further down the trail.
-Christian Hazel