Fontana is Spanish for fountain, proving that even Mexicans have a sense of humor. If they wanted to be accurate, they would have called it mierda secada para-arriba (dried-up turd). Located in the heart of the Inland Empire, Fontana is conveniently situated at the junction of the 210, 15, and 10 Freeways, in case you are on your way to Las Vegas and you’re overcome with a driving urge to snort meth.
Fontana was founded in 1913 as an agricultural town of citrus orchards, vineyards, and chicken ranches. It was transformed radically during World War II when Henry Kaiser built the only steel mill west of the Mississippi, and further in the years following the war when a bunch of assholes moved in.
When the steel mill closed, Fontana’s sole notable attraction opened on its former site – the Auto Club Speedway. Which shows that watching cars going in a circle is more exciting than anything else the city has to offer.
Since the closure of the mill, the local industries consist of growing dirt, unemployment, and customizing Hondas. Don’t mistake the tattooed 14-year-olds with visible thongs for hookers. Although they will suck your dick for ten dollars, they are not professional sex workers.
Fontana is home to the Fontana Days Half Marathon and 5K Run. According to Wikipedia, the race is on record as the fastest half marathon course in the world. This is not surprising. Even on foot, I’d be in a hurry to get the fuck out of there too.
Fontana has two other major claims to fame. It is the metropolitan area with the largest number of convicted sex offenders living in its borders. This led to the city’s slogan – “Fontana—If fondling a ten-year-old is wrong, we don’t want to be right.” And in 1948, the Hells’ Angels motorcycle “club” (if a club can be said to consist of a group of unwashed dirtbags who like to rape, shoot people in the face with shotguns, and manufacture drugs) was formed in the city.
With so much local color, when’s the best time to visit Fontana? Either during the winter, when the smell of rotting dogcrap is at a minimum and you can truly appreciate the beauty of its dried-up lawns and vacant lots, or when you have a body to dispose of.
Ah, Fontana, it truly is the Inland Empire’s Asshole.
