King of Iron Mountain: A Trip Inside the Fred Sanford Fiefdom of a Vigilante Ex-Cop

"[Chuck's been] calling us, telling us what he's trying to do," says Jack Hardebeck. "He's being real friendly," adds Julie.

There have even been yard sales—though, of course, these aren't your normal affairs with Grandma's china and a lemonade table. Signs recently went up around May Valley advertising a paint blowout at Pillon's place. "One of the girls here, a [horse] boarder, she went up there to buy paint and she got bit by one of their dogs," says Julie. "It bit her right in the stomach." (Pillon says he's unaware of such an incident.)

Kevin P. Casey

Chuck Pillon's junkyard has earned him criminal charges and government fines, yet he insists it's a public asset.

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Click here for a slideshow featuring more images of Chuck Pillon's spread.

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• Charlie Pillon
• Steve Hansen
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As for the prospective sale of his property, a John L. Scott Real Estate representative says he's negotiating a $1 million–plus deal for Pillon's property with a local developer. And supervising the cleanup of his property—listed as one of the State Department of Ecology's "hot sites" in 2003—doesn't worry him. "I could make $10,000 cleaning it up, just selling off the metal and stuff," he says. His compost blend will remain where it is, as good humus goes for $10 a cubic yard. "I'll be bargaining around that when I finally sell the place," he notes.

Pillon plans to spend his immediate days off Iron Mountain on vacation, maybe touring the United States or dipping into some hot springs. Then he wants to settle back in May Valley, where he'll finally be able to work on all the neat machinery he hasn't gotten to play with yet.

"I'll have the money to start putting some of this stuff together and restoring it," he says. "And it'll be better."

jmetcalfe@seattleweekly.com