Hillbilly Tornado Man rivals the Mona Lisa for his subtle depiction of both intrigue and perplexity. What was Mona Lisa smiling about so enigmatically? Why is Hillbilly Tornado Man’s truck lodged 50 feet up a tree? Why does he look so satisfied about it? Was he caught in a twister? Did he literally ride the whirlwind? Did he just fucking drive it up there like an Appalachian Chitty Chitty Bang Bang? Did he throw it?! Nobody knew, all they knew was the man had a chest like a barrel of meat, he could not afford an entire shirt and his goddamn truck was in a goddamn tree.
That’s Mark Madson, and the truck behind him is actually a tree-house he built for his son, Luke, in the town of Beloit, Wisconsin. So, on the downside, the truck-in-tree was not the fantastic drunken feat of a modern day redneck Paul Bunyan, but actually just a pretty slick – if dangerously negligent – act of charity from a father to his son. None of that changes the fact that, when faced with creating a play space for his little boy, Mark Madson said “fuck you” to blueprints, cracked open a Coors Light, rammed a truck into a tree and called it a day. And it also doesn’t change the fact that, when the photographer came to do a photo shoot about it, Mark oiled up his chest-planks, threw on his formal vest and posed like he was the Captain Morgan of moonshine.
He sails the rocky seas of the Wisconsin plains, boarding minivans and plundering trucks of Natural Ice.