My auto-biography.....warning x rated......

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  • These pics won't open dude....

  • I'm enjoying the story dude. Here are your pictuers.


    Jet and Baby:


    Cliff dwellings 1:


    Cliff dwellings 2:


    Cliff dwellings 3:


    Cliff dwellings 4:


    - - - Updated - - -


    Yup jpeg is the way to go in future.

  • While on the east coast I went to see the girl from Baltimore that I had met at the youth hostel that summer. She was studying art at Maryland University. Hitchhiking into Baltimore was no problem, I caught a ride right to her apartment. But when I left to go back to Manassas, I had to ask three people how to get out of town before I found someone who new where Interstate 95 was.
    In the spring I hitched back out to the youth hostel. On the way back to Santa Fe, I stopped at “THE FARM” in Tennessee. It’s another commune that I had heard about that was totally self-sufficient. There was something like three or four hundred folks at that place. But they didn’t treat visitors near as well as we did at the youth hostel.
    I ended up getting real sick when I was there. So sick in fact, that I had to take a bus out to Santa Fe. I was delirious, with fever. When I got to the hostel I found two ticks in my armpit, I had contracted Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. Believe me, it’s something you never want to get. But I got over it soon enough, and spent the summer at the youth hostel.
    In August I when back down to the youth hostel and started hanging with them again. Me and one of the other brotherhood went on a pilgrimage to Crater Lake in Washington. But we hitched up through Colorado where we ran into a girl I had met at the hostel. She was living in Craig, just west of Steamboat Springs. She had gotten hooked up with this other guy and was living with him.
    But I still decided I wanted to hang out with them, and told the guy I was traveling with to go ahead to Crater Lake without me. So he took off and I stayed with them for about three days. She bought me a new guitar while I was with them.
    I found a job working for a seismograph company in Craig. They hired me on as a Juggie. I stomped geophones in the ground all day. We did a line through Yellowjacket pass just to the west of Craig. It’s a forty mile dirt road through the mountains. The whole crew ended up dosing on LSD. I bent down to stick a geophone in the ground when I heard a rattle. I looked in front of me, and there is this diamondback rattlesnake about five feet from my face! Immediately, my reflexes sprang me backwards about fifteen feet! And at the same time the snake sprang the other way another fifteen feet! Hard to tell who was more scared, me or the snake. It shocked me right out of my trip.

  • I worked a few weeks and then hitched back to Manassas and hooked up with my friend Dean, the acid king. He had finally got himself together and quit tripping all the time. I had told him about working in the seismic fields.
    Seismograph exploration is used to look for oil, and back in the 70’s, the business was booming. The money was great, about two thousand a month, which was dang good money back in those days. But they worked twelve to sixteen hours a day, seven days a week.
    So Dean and I were going to hitch back out to Colorado and get on another seismic crew. But on the way out there we got picked up by this A-hole that tried to rip us off.
    He picked us up in Ohio and told us he was going to see a friend in Indiana and do some partying. He went to where his buddy worked, and went in to see when he was getting off work. He told his buddy he’d meet him at this bar when he got off work. So we went to the bar with this guy, because it was getting close to sunset and he had told us his buddy would put us up for the night.
    His friend showed up about a half an hour later at the bar. They said they were going out to the car to burn one and would be right back. Thirty minutes went by and they still hadn’t came back in the bar, so Dean and I went out to the parking lot and the guys car was gone, with all our stuff in it. We waited in that parking lot for three hours, but they never showed up. Then it started to rain, so Dean and I found this stone pump house that we had to sleep in that night, without sleeping bags or coats.
    The next morning we went back to where the dudes’ friend worked, and told him that if he didn’t get our stuff back from that A-hole we were going to turn him in to his boss for ripping us off, and for doing drugs. He told us that we would take us to the A-holes house in Ohio after he got off work. So we had to wait around all day for him to get off work. But he did take us back to Ohio to the A-holes house that evening.
    When we got there, the A-hole had all our stuff laid out on his livingroom floor. He said he was looking for an address to send our stuff to, yeah sure. Dean was going to kick his ass, but I told him we didn’t need any more trouble. So we packed our stuff and caught a ride back to Indiana with the A-holes friend.
    Two days later we made it out to Colorado and had a job on a seismic crew as soon as we got there. We worked for about a month and then decided to head down to the beaches of Texas for the winter.

  • Everything was fine till we got to Vanhorn Tx., then we couldn’t catch a ride out of that stinkin town. The next day the sheriff drove up to us and told us that there was a freight train coming through town, and if we weren’t on it when it left he was going to arrest us for vagrancy.
    Lucky for us, the engineer on the train was a real good Joe. I told him that if we didn’t get a ride on the train, the sheriff was going to put us up in the Iron Bar hotel. He gave us a ride all the way to San Antonio, through the Big Bend. Man, what beautiful moon lit night that was! The engineer let us ride in the second engine. Next morning, coming in the rail yard, the engineer slowed way down so we could jump off the train. He would have got in a lot of trouble if they had found out he gave us a ride.
    From San Antonio we hitched on down to Corpus Christi, where Dean got a job on a shrimp boat. The boat only needed one header (employee that pops heads off of the shrimp). So I headed down to Brownsville and got on a boat down there.
    When I got to Brownsville, I went to the docks and just started asking different captains if they needed any help. I was as green as grass, didn’t know the first thing about it. Usually there is only three on a boat, a captain, a rig man (the guy that works the nets), and a header. The rig man usually helps the header, while the captain trolls the boat with the nets down. The boat I got on had a full crew, but the captain hired me on as an apprentice. He told me to meet them at this certain bar that evening. I met them at the bar and we had a real good time that night, got good and drunk too.
    Next morning we met at the boat then went to the grocery store and bought two thousand dollars worth of groceries, beer and whisky. We got on the boat, went and filled her up with fuel and headed for the coast of New Orleans. The captain was a Coon-ass (slang for Cajun), so he knew the waters off New Orleans real well.
    The boat we were on was a steel hull freezer boat, so we could stay out on the water for up to two months without having to come into port. Most boats were iceboats, so they could only stay out for ten to fourteen days. Man, I wished I had got on one of those kinds of boats. We were out on the water for six weeks without touching land!
    Those guys were nice dudes until they ran out of booze, then they turned meaner than snakes! They finished the hooch about the second week. Then I turned into the slave of the boat. I got every nasty job there was. I thought at one point they were going to throw me overboard. It was then I realized nobody knew I was out on that boat with them.


    more later......

  • In those six weeks, we went through three storms where the waves were twenty feet high! There was more than once, I didn’t think I was going to make it!
    One night we were trolling (shrimping is done at night from sun down to sun up), and the gulf was smooth as glass. You could see the full moon on the water. We had just dumped the nets on the deck, and were starting to pop the heads off the shrimp, when the captain came back and yelled at us to get those damn nets up now! Before we could get the nets up, the waves were crashing down on the deck of the boat! The waves were twenty feet high, and rocking the boat like it was a toy. We had to dump the nets on the deck along with the stuff that was already on the deck. Then we had to shovel everything back overboard. The railing of the boat only comes up to about knee high, but there is a shoot to shovel all the dead fish back overboard when you get done separating the shrimp out of the pile that is dumped on the deck. But the storm was too severe to get the shrimp, we just shoveled it all back overboard. And as we’re shoveling all this stuff back into the sea, there are twenty or thirty sharks eating it faster than we can shovel it! They eat it so fast, they make the water foam! And the boat is rocking side to side, so that water comes over the top of the railing! And as I’m shoveling, the rig man yells at me, that if I fall out I’m just shark food cause they won’t have time to save my ass! As the boat rocks over to my side, I could actually reach out and touch the shark, that’s how close they were! There was so much water coming on the deck, we just had to give up shoveling stuff back overboard and go and drop anchor and ride out the storm. Next morning I was the one that got to clean the back of the boat. There was dead fish strung from hell to breakfast. The other guys just went to bed. I finally got done around one in the afternoon. Then I went to bed and had to get up four hours later.
    We got up around 5pm, the rig man was the cook of the boat and made dinner. Then we would pull up anchor and start trolling. Just drop the nets overboard and troll around in big circles for about three or four hours. Then pull up the nets and dump them on the deck. Then me and the other header would sit on these three legged seats that set three inches off the deck, and start popping heads off the shrimp and putting them in laundry baskets. The rig man would put the nets back overboard and continues trolling. The rig man has a smaller sample net that he brings up every hour to see how full the nets are getting and to see how many shrimp are being caught. The nets are dumped on the deck about three times a night, and it makes a big pile on the deck that has all kinds of stuff in it. Everything from garbage, to stingrays, to sharks and fish and eels, and of course shrimp.
    One morning we dumped the nets on deck just about sunrise, and it was a big haul. Some of the shrimp weighed a half a pound. Even the rig man and captain were on the deck helping pop heads, when all of a sudden a sea serpent (sea snake) slithered out from the pile. It was huge! It was longer than the boat was wide, it stretched all the way across the deck! It’s head was about the size of a football. It had fangs over an inch long! The captain grabbed a gaff (a long pole with a hook on the end) and opened a shoot on the side of the boat and the thing slid back over into the sea. The captain told me that if it had bit me I would have been dead before I took two steps. We finally got back to port in Brownsville the day before Christmas Eve. The captain paid me three hundred dollars for the six weeks. He told me I wasn’t worth even that much, and that I should be glad they hadn’t thrown me overboard.

  • I hitched back up to Corpus Christi and found Dean who had moved in with this other guy he had met. They let me move in, and I got a job delivering pizza. The pizza place had their own delivery cars, little Honda Civics. It was a great job till I had a wreck.
    A week later I got a job on a construction crew, framing houses. It was a family of Mexicans, a father and two sons. The mother would always bring us home cooked meals for lunch. They were some of the best folks I ever met. But the job only lasted a month.
    Then I had to start giving plasma to get money, cause the employment office was giving me the run around as far as getting me a job. When you give plasma, it lowers your immune system and then you end up getting sick, which is what happened to me.
    So one day I was in the employment office, and they had been shuffling me from one section to another all day. I was in this one section for over an hour, when I noticed other people that hadn’t been there as long as me getting called. So I went up to the desk and asked why they hadn’t called me. The lady said, “Oh I’m sorry, I must have misplaced your file.”
    I was pissed! I was also sick of giving plasma, and sick of the employment office! So I stormed out of the office through a double glass door, and as it was shutting behind me I kicked the frame of the door. The door shattered! I took off running, but before I got a block down the street, there was a cop with his gun pointed right at my head. “Freeze!” he said. Then handcuffed me and took me back to the employment office, where he loaded me in the squad car.
    As I was being loaded into the cop car, there was a cameraman and a reporter shoving a microphone in my face, asking me why I did it. I showed him the needle marks on my arm, and told him that I was having to give plasma in order to get money to buy food, because the employment office wouldn’t give me a job.
    I spent the night in the slammer, but I was on the news that night, and the employment office looked like they weren’t doing their job. So the next morning the employment office dropped all charges on me, and had me a job in an hour working in a youth center playing Ping-Pong and billiards all day.
    The rest of the winter wasn’t too bad. I spent a lot of time on the beach on Padre Island with this sweetheart who lived with these guys that played music. She was gorgeous, but she had legs hairier than mine and she didn’t shave. Dean went with me and her to a Willy Nelson concert one night. Man that was fun! The whole basketball court was cleared for dancing. And everyone was allowed to bring their own bottle of whiskey. We brought a fifth of Tequila. Dean drank till he puked. Me and the sweetheart danced it off. We danced almost every song. She was like figure skater the way she liked me to spin her. We did the Texas two step all night. Wish I could remember her name.


    more tomorrow...and more pics if I can figure out how to get them on here....

  • May 1st, Dean and I hitched back up to Santa Fe to the youth hostel. After a few days Dean headed out for parts unknown, and I spent the summer with the brotherhood. I ended up going to my first Rainbow Gathering that July, down on the east fork of the Gila River in Southern New Mexico. God that was awesome! A bunch of us from the hostel had gotten a ride from these hippies that owned a bus. We arrived at the parking area just about sunset, so we camped at the bus and hiked down the canyon the next morning.
    At the bottom of the canyon, the Gila River wound lazily through the gathering. They were dumping crate loads of oranges and grapefruits in the river that were floating down for everyone to grab and eat. There were all these teepees and tents, and campfires. There was what they called the main circle, where there were hundreds of people doing all kinds of things like chanting, and ohm prayer circles, drum circles, yoga circles, beading circles, you name it, it was going on. There was an info center with a map of the camp so you could locate various different groups that had a camp set up. There was a MASH tent for folks that got sick or hurt. There were kitchens along the trail every hundred yards or so. The gathering was about a couple of miles square. People camped all over the place.
    At the main circle, I joined in one of the ohm circles. It sounded so beautiful! I had my eyes closed while we were ohming, like being in a transcendental state of bliss. I had an infection in one of my eyes before we had left for the gathering, that I had gone to the emergency room for in Santa Fe. But it was still all pussie and swelled shut when we had got down to the camp. But as we were ohming, all of a sudden I heard the whole camp start yelling and cheering. So I opened my eyes to see why, and there was this double rainbow arching across the whole camp! And when I opened my eyes, my infection was gone! Big Magic!
    Later on, I was sitting beside the river with a group burning some buds. And there were some of them that were naked. In fact there were a lot of folks walking around naked. I’d never been to anything like this before and I wanted to get naked too. But I felt like if I did get naked, I’d pop a boner and get all embarrassed. But the honey sitting next to me while we were smoking was naked, and told me I ought to get free of my threads. So I got down to my birthday suit, and sure enough I popped a doozie. She thought it was sweet, and treated it like a lollipop. I never had a problem after that. I could walk around all day and never loose my cool.
    After that rejuvenator, her and I went to where she had her tent set up. I set my tent up, but sent a lot of time in hers, a lot of time.
    We met this hippie that was camping in a cave. And when he moved into it, there was a bird that had made a nest in the ceiling of the cave. And there were two baby birds in the nest. The mother bird was amazing! She didn’t abandon the babies when he moved in, I guess because he was so cool. The mother bird would even land on his finger. She would fly out of the cave, and then a few minutes later would fly back in with a bug of some sort. She’d land on his finger and show him what she had caught, and then fly over to the nest and feed it to her babies. She wasn’t even worried when we came in the cave to visit. She’d hop around the cave and show us what she had caught for her babies, then fly up to the nest and feed them, then fly out and catch something else.
    The Rainbow Gathering lasted a week, then I went back to the hostel with a bad case of the hirshey squirts. It was my first gathering, as it was for a lot of others. And we hadn’t learned to purify the water correctly, so all of us got sick. Another lesson learned.

  • I had a girlfriend in Santa Fe that was an artist that lived up Artist road. She was the first one to turn me on to Peyote. One day she broke out with a whole grocery bag full of dried buttons. At least ten pounds, which is a lot of dang buttons. Her and I went down to Sandia Peak the back way through Cerrillos and Madrid. Sandia Peak is the mountain that over looks Albuquerque. There is two ways to get to the top, either take the tramway or drive up the back side, which is what we did. We eat some buttons on the way, and by the time we got to the top the Peyote had kicked in. It seemed like I could see the curvature of the earth from up there, and the sunset was the best one I’ve ever seen.
    After it got dark, we went back down the mountain to Golden. Back then Golden wasn’t really a town, it was a bar. But it was a really cool bar. There was a stage for well known bands, and a big dance floor. It was right out of an old western movie. The bar isn’t there any more, I heard it burnt down.
    When we walked in we were tripping pretty hard. And there was this cowboy at the bar that had a perfect dent in his forehead in the shape of a horse’s foot. The dent was almost a half-inch deep.
    They say that when you do Peyote, there is a spirit guide that shows you the lesson you’re supposed to learn. The lesson I learned was that Peyote is the nastiest taste you will ever put in your mouth. Most people can’t keep it down, and end up throwing it back up. I’ve heard that puking makes it work better, I managed to keep it down and that works well too.
    A few weeks later I was hanging out at the River Park in Santa Fe, when this dude from California came up to me and asked if I knew where he could get some pot. I asked him how much he was looking for, and he told me he had ten thousand dollars. I said that I knew a girl down in El Paso that could take care of him. He said he was up for the road trip, so we borrowed a car from my artist girlfriend and drove down to Texas.
    When we got there, Diane (that was her name) only had ten kilos at her house, but she told us that she could get another fifty keys by the next day.
    Well, those ten kilos were only fourteen hundred dollars, a hundred and forty a key. But this guy couldn’t believe that he got that much high grade Mexican pot for that cheap. He was used to paying eight hundred to a thousand dollars a pound in California. And what they called “The Kind Bud”, pot grown hydroponicly was two thousand a pound. So said he couldn’t wait and had to go back to Santa Fe to catch a flight back to Cal.
    On the way back, we had to go through the checkpoint at Truth or Consequences. That scared the shit out of me! I don’t know how I kept my cool when the border patrol agent asked me if we had any fruits or vegetables that we were bringing back from Mexico. But I told him no, and he just waved us through without checking the car. Whew!
    Then the alternator gave out in the car and we had to stop every hundred miles and recharge the battery.
    We made it back to Santa Fe, and he gave my girlfriend a half a kilo for letting us use the car, and to have the alternator fixed. And he gave me a kilo and a half for doing the deal for him. Then he hopped on a flight back to San Francisco. I hope he made it. But back then airport security wasn’t what it is today.

  • The next day I stuck out my thumb on I-25 headed for Colorado to sell my stash. The dude that picked me up had twelve pounds in the door of his pick-up that he had smuggled back from Mexico, and he was looking for buyers. So we rode up to Canon City where I had some friends that I had met, because my grandparents had moved there when I was in Hairstyling School. I sold every pound he had for eighty dollars a pound, and he gave me ten bucks a pound for selling it for him.
    I ended up selling about a pound of my stash in ounces. But I spent the summer with these hippies that lived in Coal Creek, just outside of Canon City, and we ended up smoking the other kilo.
    In August I headed back down to the youth hostel to see if the brotherhood would take me back. At Raton, I was at the truck stop when who did I see gassing his eighteen wheeler but good old Norm from Gunnison. Norm had just got out of the army and was learning to be a trucker from Curtis, a cowboy whose dad owned a ranch that we grew up with. They were hauling a load of cattle down to Texas. They gave me a ride on down to Santa Fe.
    When I got to the youth hostel, they told me I couldn’t stay there any more because I hadn’t finished the pilgrimage to Crater Lake. They said I was banned from the Brotherhood. Elvis died that day.
    So I headed up to Cortez Colorado and got on another seismic crew. I met another cutie that had a small pickup truck with a camper shell on the bed. The crew I was on transferred down to Lubbock Texas and my new girlfriend came along.
    Driving down through the panhandle of Texas we went through a storm like nothing I’ve ever witnessed. It was around two in the afternoon when all of a sudden it went from a sunny day to pitch black. It was darker than the darkest moonless night I've ever seen, because there weren’t any stars. You couldn’t see your hand if it was an inch from your face. It clouded up and got that dark in less than fifteen minutes. Then the thunder and lightning started. The lightning would go from the ground up into the sky! And when the lightning hit it lit up the surroundings like a negative of a picture. And the lightning was happening all around us, hundreds of bolts hitting more than one every second. And when it lit up, we could see a tornado off to the west that must have been at least a half mile wide! We couldn’t tell which way it was going, whether it was coming at us or not. But all we could do is just keep going and hope it didn’t catch us. We must have driven fifty miles before the darkness lifted to where we could see anything. The rain came down so hard it was like being in one of those drive through car washes. Even with the wipers on high, we couldn’t see the road in front of us more than twenty feet away. The hail was so big in spots it looked like the road was covered in snowballs. Some how the big ones missed our truck, but we still got some pretty good dents. I bet we weren’t going more than ten miles an hour, for an hour.
    The dust bowl country of Texas is butt ugly. The wind blows so much that sand gets in everything from the food, to sheets in the bed, and in your eyes, hair and mouth. The water smells and tastes like the oil from the oil fields.
    So my girlfriend was ready to get the hell out of there within a month, and so was I. We headed to Carlsbad N.M., and then broke up a few days later. She went back home to California, and I hitched back to Colorado.


    more later...

  • Hitchhiking can be hard if you have a bad frame of mind, like being bummed out over losing a girlfriend. It took me two days to catch a ride out of Las Cruses. Finally a big fat girl picked me up in a VW beetle. When she picked me up, she told me she was only going about twenty miles up I. 25 and then turning off to go up in the mountains. And she said where she was turning off there wasn’t even a store or gas station. But after two days in the same spot I thought anything was better than that spot, so I hopped in. When we got to her turn off she asked if I wanted to come with her and drink a beer and burn one. That sounded better than standing on the side of the road again, so I said sure.
    She took me about fifteen miles up in the mountains to the old ghost town. She told me to wait in the car while she went in to this bar to talk to her roommate. She came out a minute later and drove to her house. Again she told me to sit tight, and went in the house and came back a minute later with a case of beer and some stash. We then drove back to the bar and picked up her roommate. We drove out on a dirt road to a windmill that draws water into a tank for cattle to drink. The tank was fifteen feet in diameter and almost five feet deep.
    We got out of the car and the girls spread out a blanket, and we all got naked and went skinny-dipping in the tank. Both of these girls weighed over two hundred and fifty pounds. The one that picked me up was taller, almost six feet tall. Her roommate was only about five foot four. Me, I was still as skinny as a rail. I was six foot tall, but still weight less than a hundred and twenty pounds.
    The water in the tank was nice and clean, but there were little minnows in it that would nibble on you if you didn’t keep moving. They didn’t hurt, but it felt weird.
    It was a nice warm day, especially for November.
    We played in the tank for a little while, then got out and drank some beer and burned a couple of doobies. Then things got frisky and I thought we were going to have my third three way. But just then a car came up on us. It was a carload of Mexicans. They drove up and got out of their car and started laughing at us. I guess it looked like I was the filling in a blubber sandwich. So we got dressed and drove back to their place. They fixed dinner and we drank more beer, but the three way never happened. They let me sleep on the couch and the next morning drove me back to I-25. My attitude was much better and I didn’t have any problem getting up to Colorado.

  • I got to Canon City and found some friends that wanted me to take them back down to my girlfriend in El Paso to get ten keys of pot. It was a week before Thanksgiving and it was snowing in Canon when we left that evening. It snowed all the way to El Paso! When we got there the next morning, there was almost a foot of snow on the ground. Now that is really freaky, to have that much snow in El Paso. Especially that early in the year, but it had all melted by noon. Diane had the ten keys on hand, and we were on our way back to Canon City. We got back at midnight, and they only gave me a pound for all that trouble.
    I spent the winter in Boulder, working in a hair salon. I bought a 72’ Ford station wagon and put a bed in the back of it, and curtains in the windows.
    In March I went down to Penrose and hung out with my grandparents for a couple of months. My friends in Canon City had a party at their house that I went to one night. I got so drunk I couldn’t drive back to Penrose. So I went back to the bedroom where everyone had thrown their coats on the bed and passed out. I figured they’d wake me up when the party was over and they got the coats. But I woke up the next morning, under the sheets naked! And there was a naked girl on each side of me! I woke them up and told them that I didn’t remember what had happened that night and they would have to refresh my memory, and they did! That was my second menage et trois. Two on one in my favor is much better.
    In the spring I got on another seismograph crew. This one hired me on as a surveyor’s helper, the rodman. We were working in Wyoming, up by the Little BigHorn. Very cool country. Then we got done with those lines and moved to Cody, which it even cooler. We were doing lines near this refuge for the Black Footed Ferret. They’re some cute little critters.
    But like I said, these seismic crews just worked you till you dropped. So I got sick of working sixteen hours a day, seven days a week, after a couple of months. So I quit that job and went back down to Craig Colorado and got a job setting concrete forms. That job was only ten hours a day, five days a week. It was nice having weekends off.
    I’d go to Steamboat Springs to the Bluegrass festival, or to the natural hot springs on my days off. One time when I was at the hot springs, my friend had gone back to the car to get some stash when this beautiful blond came out of the woods naked. She just came in the hot pot and sat right down on my manhood. I pulled off my swim trunks and we got busy. It was so exciting that I was done in less than ten minutes, and she just got up and walked back into the woods without us saying a word to each other. A few minutes later my friend came back from the car, and I told him what had happened. He didn’t believe a word of it, but didn’t like the idea that I was still naked in the pool.

  • I lived in a boarding house in Craig. The lady that ran it was a sweetheart. There were ten guys that lived there. It was $60.00 a week, with breakfast, dinner and sack lunches. We each had our own room, but only three bathrooms.
    One of the guys that also lived there was a coke freak. One night he asked me if I wanted to shoot up with him. I told him I didn’t use needles to get high. He asked me if I’d ever tried it, and I said no. He said, “Well don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” So I did. We went to his room and he shot up about a half a gram all at once. Then he loaded up almost a quarter gram for me in the same syringe. I was so ignorant I didn’t know you weren’t supposed to use the same works. Thank God this was before AIDS. The moment he plunged it into my vein, I was so high I was scrapping my brain off the ceiling. Ok, I’ve tried it, that enough for me. That was my one and only time.
    One weekend I drove down to Colorado Springs to try to score a pound of weed. When I got down there, I was driving through this neighborhood looking for an old friend’s house, when I saw a car hit a dog. I pulled over and asked the people who were standing around, who the dog belonged to. One person said it was a stray, so I picked the poor thing up and took it to the vet.
    The dog was a beautiful silver Weimaraner, a German hunting dog. The veterinarian said she had gone through distemper. The vet did what he could for her, but said she probably wouldn’t make it. She got some internal injuries when the car hit her. But I took her back to Craig with me, and the lady that owned the boarding house let her stay in my room while I was at work. She even took care of the dog, cause the thing couldn’t even stand up for at least two weeks. But she pulled through and I named her Beth. She was my best friend for the next ten years.
    The first of September, Beth and I headed for Arizona for the winter. I had my station wagon, and figured I could camp in it down in Bisbee, which is just south of Tombstone. Bisbee is an old copper mining town that was taken over by hippies after the mine closed down.
    One night I met a hippie chic at the Saint Elmo’s bar, which is up Brewery Gulch, a few blocks up from The Copper Queen Hotel. She had a room in another hotel farther up the canyon past the post office. I spent the night with her, and the next morning she couldn’t find her panties that she had dropped beside the bed. Two days later Beth puked them up. She had swallowed them whole, and wouldn’t go all the way through her system.
    After a few weeks I started running low on cash, so I went up to Tucson to try to find something to make a few dollars. When I got to town I met another little cutie that was to the University of Arizona. She was a real hottie, but she chewed tobacco, Copenhagen. She was a little rich kid from New York City, whose parents were putting her through school. She had her own place and let me move in with her.
    I wasn’t having any luck finding work, and my station wagon was in need of some repairs. So I ended up selling my car to this other girl for three hundred dollars. I ended up regretting that.
    A week later was Halloween, and I went to a party over by the college. These college kids had a reggae Band in the back yard of their frat house. I was dressed in a loin cloth and a crown of thorns. Some little devil sold me an ounce of shrooms, and in a little while the singer of the reggae band said, “Hey we’ve got Jesus with us tonight! C’mon up here Jesus!” So I stumbled up on the stage and grabbed the mic and said, “Dad says to have a good time.”
    Right after that this other dude comes up to me with his girlfriend and says that he wants me to take care of her tonight, and he goes off with this other chic. So she takes me to their home and we had trippy sex all night. Shrooms are like Viagra.
    Next morning the dude comes in and says that he hopes I had a good time, but don’t come back, and kicks me out of the house.
    I left their place and headed back to my tobacco-chewing sweethearts’ house. On the way, I saw this native American working on his car. He had long hair, so I asked him if he wanted to buy some shrooms. He asked me what shrooms were, and I told him they were like the Peyote that his people ate. Without warning, he just cold cocked me. Knocked me back ten feet, and I landed on my ass! I got up begging him not to hit me again. This dude was huge! I have no doubt, he could have broke me in half if he had the notion. The sucker broke my nose again. I was bleeding like a stuck pig. If he would have used his left fist it wouldn’t have been so bad, maybe straighten it out from the first time I got it busted. He handed me a rag, and told me he was sorry, but I was making fun of his religion. I apologized and told him that I had nothing but respect for his people. In fact, I’m part Blackfoot and part Cherokee myself. But damn, that sure ruined my day, but it got worse.
    I went back to the house and told my girlfriend what happened, and she got all pissed off, because a friend of hers had come by and told her that I had spent the night with that other girl. So she kicked me out, and that was the end of that. I wonder if God was trying to tell me something.


    continued later.....

  • So being homeless and without a car, I hitched back up to Craig Colorado with my dog, to try to get back on the concrete form setting crew. But they were shut down for the winter, so I stuck out my thumb the next day in Steamboat Springs to head back to Manassas. It was the second week of November and the snow was starting to pile up. When I got out on the road that morning there was already a guy hitching on the entrance ramp. I asked how long he’d been out there, and he said about an hour. I told him that the next car would pick him up, and I walked on past about a hundred feet or so. Sure enough, the next car pulled up to him and picked him up, then pulled up and picked me up too. They were in a big ol’ Suburban Carryall. They took him all the way to Kansas and then took me all the way to my mothers’ front doorstep in Manassas, in twenty hours! Two thousand miles in twenty hours! I wonder if I’ve got more than one guardian angel.
    I spent another Thanksgiving with my mom, and another winter with the boys at the bachelor pad. I got a job working with Greenpeace soliciting door to door, and then got promoted to working on the phones.
    I met a Catholic girl at Greg’s church that winter, she was a virgin. I went to Mass with her one Sunday and they were giving communion, so I went up with her and ate the cracker and drank the grape juice. After the sermon the priest met me out front and said, “You’re not Catholic are you.” I said no, and he told me to never take communion with the Catholics ever again. According to the Catholic priests, only Catholics are going to heaven so partaking of the body of Christ is out. I think this girl loved me, but not enough to give up her virtue or her religion. So it wasn’t long before I was headed back out west.
    I got out to Santa Fe in April of 79’ and stopped in the youth hostel to see if they’d take me back. But the place was closed down. Seems the fire department had decided that the house was only big enough for fifty people a night. So rather than just letting fifty in a night and turning another fifty or one hundred away, the brotherhood closed the hostel down. Within a week the city was begging the brotherhood to open back up, because all the homeless were out on the street causing trouble. But instead, they turned the place into a hospice taking care of old people. Soon after that the founder got busted being a pedophile. Everything fell apart after that.

  • I got on another seismic crew in Colorado and ended up in the bad lands of eastern Montana that summer, over by the border of North Dakota. Beth got pregnant and had a litter of pups. I was living in a house with two other guys on the crew. It had a dog pen that Beth had to stay in while I was at work, because the owner of the house wouldn’t let her stay in the house with the pups all day. Somehow Beth got a hold of something that she ate, which soured her milk the pups were suckling on. The pups’ throats swelled up from it, and then they scratched their throats with their claws, and flies got in the cuts and laid eggs. When I got home that evening, maggots were eating the pups alive. I spent the whole night pulling maggots out of their throats with tweezers. Four of the pups died anyway. I ended up having to give the other eight puppies to the humane society because I couldn’t take care of them and work all day every day.
    I was on the survey crew as the rodman. But the head surveyor didn’t know shit from shineola. One day we were out on the line, when we saw a big bird perched on a dead tree lying on the ground. We got closer and closer to it, but it didn’t fly away. We got right up to it and found it was a fledgling bald eagle that had tried to fly out of the nest. It was full grown but didn’t have its full head of white feathers yet. And it didn’t have the flying thing figured out yet either. So we walked up to it to see if there was something wrong with it. But there didn’t seem to have any broken wings or anything. And we could see the nest it had came out of, way up in this tall tree. We pet it for a minute, and then left it where it was, because we figured the parents would be back for it. I found a feather under the tree where the nest was, and put it in my hat.
    That’s when the surveyor discovered he had lost the box the survey instrument was supposed to be put in. So we spent the rest of the day driving up and down the line looking for that damn box. Never did find it, and by dark the surveyor was pissed off! He was driving like a madman on these dirt roads, with three of us in the back of the truck. We were holding on for dear life! He hit a pothole coming around a bend and I fell over the side of the truck, holding on to a roll bar in the bed that kept me from falling all the way off. That phuckwit skidded sideways to a stop, and I let go and hit the ground. Then he just took off, and left me to walk fifteen miles back to town. The surveyor got fired and I quit.
    It was getting to be late summer and I decided that since I’d never been to California, winter was a good time to check it out. So I stuck out my thumb headed for San Diego with Beth right beside me.


    That's enough of chapter two....more tomorrow

  • So everything I've posted to far, is about the first half of my life, and there is still a lot more. But now I want to go back to the beginning of this thread, which started the second half of my life. That's when things started to change for the better....still plenty of crazy, but still much better.


    So back to chapter four.....


    I finally started coming out the depression in February. It turn out to be a rather warm winter so I started going to Burke Lake and playing Frisbee golf at the course there. That’s where I met Rick and Roger. They were dope dealers that I got hooked up with. They would bring twenty pounds to my house and drop it off, and then come back a few days later and collect the money.
    Pot was a lot more expensive on the east coast. They fronted it to me for a thousand a pound, and I sold it for twelve hundred. I had ten friends that would buy anywhere from a half pound to up to five pounds at a time. When Rick would drop it off, I’d call my friends that night and tell them to come and visit. It would all be gone in less than two days, except for maybe a half pound of stash.
    A few of them were friends of Beth that she had grown up with. Dave and Beth went back as far as elementary and high school I think. They even went to college together in Heidleburg Germany. Anyway he was usually good for five pounds or so.
    Eric was good for a pound or two, he always had the best parties at his place. They were all friends from the college in Heidleburg too. Most of them worked in D.C. for lobbyists, Republicans. I think that Dave and Beth and I were the only liberals in the group. They all thought Raygun was God, which made for some heated debates between me and them. Those damn republicans didn’t smoke much pot, but loved coke, which I didn’t sell.
    I had one friend that played the stand up bass, who brought a stranger to my house one night wanting to buy some pot. I told him that I had heard that I was getting hot, so I had quit selling. I never sold him another ounce after he brought that dude to my house. Never played any more music with him either.
    Rick and Roger were big time. They sold over a hundred pounds a week, that they had shipped from Arizona. And on top of that they had a basement that they grew the kind bud in. What an operation! They had halogen lights on a rotating hanger that raised as the plants grew. They cloned plants. And had CO2 that released into the air when the plants were budding. That’s what makes buds really big. And Batwana, bat shit for fertilizer. That basement grew five pounds of kind bud every month. Those buds went for three hundred an ounce. Tasty.

  • They also had a great connection for LSD in Berkley. They sold me jars (a thousand hits) for $250.00, that’s twenty-five cents a hit! I’d sell hundred lots for $50.00. I probably sold two thousand hits a month myself. I sent Dixie a hundred in the mail. They lasted her a couple of years. I doubt she did them all before they lost their potency.
    I was making such good money I didn’t get a real job for over six months. That summer, the summer of 87’, Beth and I went to the Rainbow gathering in North Carolina. I took a jar with me and gave it away. I had lots of friends that year. The gathering was actually on the border of Kentucky and North Carolina in the Smoky Mountains. It was gorgeous, but it rained a lot that year. We camped at Turtle Island Soup kitchen that year. A guy named Bart was the founder of the kitchen. He and I both been at the New Mexico gathering as our first gathering in 77’, but we didn’t meet till the 87’ gathering.
    Turtle Island was a wild kitchen that year. There was a ton of XTC going around, and everybody did some one night and we had the flesh tent. We got eighteen naked people in a four-man tent with body oil on. It was like being a worm in a can with a bunch of other worms, all slithering around together. Seemed like wherever I put my hands, there was a genital or boob. Erotic was an understatement.
    Stephanie was the resident nympho for the kitchen. She was like a doorknob, all the guys took a turn on her. But she was a voluptuous hunk of woman. Big tits, and built like a brick house. I took her for a walk after the flesh tent. What can I say, I have a doorknob fetish. We walked down to the main circle to the drumming and dancing. On the way we just hopped into some tall grass just off the trail. In the middle of our session someone flashed their flashlight on us. Hmm, that was weird. I hope they enjoyed the view as much as we did making it.
    The Krishna camp brought their elephant. And it was Moondancers last year with his talent show. I got a Rainbow Guide that has peoples phone numbers and addresses, and found him in German Town Maryland. He had a pool party at his place later that summer. Everybody that came, had to help clean the pool, but it was still fun.
    After the Rainbow, I got a job on the carnival at the Prince William County fair. It was the same carnival I worked for down in Florida a couple of years back. I got my same hole in the balloon store. After that ten-day spot, I went with them to do the Maryland State fair in Baltimore. I made over four grand at those two spots, not counting the two grand I made selling pot and cid to the carnies.

  • After the State fair I was sick of the twelve-hour days, so I didn’t go any farther with the show. I found out about a regional gathering in Pennsylvania and went to that with Beth. I’d never been to a regional before. It was much smaller, only a few hundred people. And it was on private land instead of National Forest land. It still had that rainbow aura to it though.
    One night I hooked up with this little red head around one of the campfires. Beth had a headache and had gone to the tent to crash. I wish I could remember the red heads name, cause we really connected. But she had a five-year-old son, and I’m just not a good roll model for kids. She tried to make us a thing, she even came to the house in Annandale. She had a Chevy van, and took me down to the Virginia State fair in Richmond later that summer. It was the same carnival I was with earlier, and I got the same hole in the balloon store. But the Red head just didn’t fit the carnie life style, so she left me there and I never saw her again. Just as well, I think That summer Congress had the Iran/Contra hearings. It was on tv every day, and we all got to see all of Raygun’s cronies lie their asses off. Shrub daddy was like Sergeant Shults, “I know nothing! I was out of the loop.” It was revealed that Raygun was selling chemical weapons to Iraq, and intelligence to Iran, playing both sides against each other. No wonder the Muslims hate us. Raygun was using the profits from that to buy more weapons for the Contras to fight the Sandanistas in Nicaragua, which Congress had forbidden. One thing Congress hide from us, was Colonel Ollie North selling cocaine with Noriega to get more money for the Contras. After Noriega’s usefulness ended, Shrub daddy ended up invading Panama and overthrowing him. Noriega is still in a U.S. prison. Republicans sure know how to make friends. No wonder all these small countries want the bomb. Ever notice how we tolerate dictators like Musharraf that have the Bomb?
    Beth worked in downtown D.C., only eight miles from our house. She could take the metro train most of the way. I’d give her a ride to where she caught the train, and then either pick her up at work or where she got off the metro. She did that so that I could use her car during the day. She had a 1980 Mustang that sucked and finally fell apart. Her dad was the manager at a car dealership in Manassas, and got her a good deal on a Plymouth station wagon.


    continued later....

  • Jumping ahead to the asshole Texas gathering.....


    It was a pretty uneventful spring, with the exception of meeting Darcy. I had met her through a guy named Was, who was a friend of Rick and Roger. Was had a gimpy leg. Darcy was a little hippie chic that could suck the chrome off a tail pipe. By June I was sick of the hairstyling biz, and ready for the Rainbow gathering. It was in southeast Texas in 88’, but I desperately needed to get out of D.C. for a while. Beth and I took Was along with us in the station wagon. Darcy went with a couple of her housemates. Darcy had borrowed a pair of Beths’ Berkenstock sandals before we left. When we got to the gathering, Darcy had ruined the sandals by walking through the mud with them. I think Beth is still pissed about that.
    Damn it was hot! Southwest Texas is not the place to have a Rainbow Gathering in July. It was a hundred and ten in the friggin shade, with ninety-five percent humidity! And it made everybody pissed off, especially the Texas Rangers and the Forest Service. They tried to keep the gathering from happening. They tried to separate everyone into groups of no more than ten. The Forest Service tried to sue the Rainbow Family for camping without a permit. The Rainbow Family counter sued The Forest Service for trying to take away the constitutional right of freedom of assembly. The Rainbow Family won the case in court, and the Forest Service had to let the gathering happen. The Forest Service and the Federal government has been trying to stop the gathering ever since. For some stupid reason, the Forest Service has the erroneous idea that On top of that, the Texas Rangers were searching cars, and strip searching people. And then there were all these dumb rednecks that showed up. Even some of the family got stupid and tried to close some roads, and make people walk in carrying all their camping gear in all that heat and humidity.
    There was no water, so that had to be hauled in too. I went to town and bought twenty gallons of water and another ten bags of ice. When I got back, some fucking redneck told me I couldn’t drive down to the camp with it, and that I had to carry it in. Sure, the ice would have melted before I got two of the bags to the site. I just started driving down to the site. That’s when the redneck jumped on the roof of the car and started kicking the windshield. He smashed it pretty good. That’s when I started driving fast and swerving to get him off. He fell off and I just kept going. I got down to the campsite, and then a couple of carloads of rednecks came down after me. That’s when the Texas Rangers showed up with their sirens and lights flashing. The rednecks tried telling the Rangers that I had broke threw the road block, and that I had thrown one of them off my car. The Ranger looked at my busted windshield, that I told him was the reason I threw the asshole off for. Then the Ranger arrested all the rednecks for making a roadblock, which nobody can do except the law. And he arrested the A-hole that busted my windshield.
    I unloaded the water and the ice at the camp. But some of the “so called” leaders of the Rainbow family were pissed at me because the rednecks got arrested for the roadblock, and because I had drove through it. Well that was enough stupidity for me, besides now I had to go get the windshield replaced. So Beth and I packed the car and headed to the nearest town and got the car fixed. Was desided he was going to stay at the gathering. Fine, enjoy the misery.

  • There was one cool thing that happened at that gathering. The night before the fiasco, I heard this beautiful music coming from the woods by our camp. I followed the sound till I came upon this hippie making the music. He was playing a stained glass xylophone. The sound it made was enchanting. I found out he made the xylophones for a living. I ended up trading him fifty hits of acid and ten grams of black hash for one that was in the key of F#. One of the best trades I ever made.
    After we got a new windshield, Beth and I desided to get the hell out of Texas. We had to drive clear across the damn state on our way to Colorado to see Dixie. Six hundred miles through butt ugly country on Interstate 20. We got to I 25 in New Mexico and headed north to Colorado. New Mexico is called the land of enchantment, and things got a lot better once we got there. We stopped in Santa Fe and I showed Beth the place where the youth hostel used to be. We checked out Artist Road and the Plaza, with all the native Americans selling their jewelry. As Beth and I were walking around the square checking out the stores, a guy came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder and said, “How ya doin ya friggin hippie?” I turned around and there was Harry, an old buddy I’d grown up with in Gunnison. I had no idea how he recognized me after all those years. It had been fifteen years since the last time I saw him.
    After Santa Fe, we cruised up to Taos and played tourist. We walked around the plaza and checked out the art galleries and jewelry stores. Beth’s dad had given me a cowboy hat the previous Christmas, and Beth bought me a hatband for it. It was leather with indian head nickels on it. She also bought me a wristband from India, made of silver with a big piece of turquoise. Dragons encircle the turquoise. I bought Beth a couple of rings and a pair of shoes. She has a ring and shoe fetish.
    We only spent a few hours in Taos before heading up to Gunnison to see Dixie. We drove up highway 285 through Alamosa and Saguache, then 114 over Buffalo pass into Gunnison. We only spent one night because we had my dog baby, and Dixie’s dogs resented mine being in their yard. Next day we took highway 50 over Monarch pass, then up 285 to Interstate 70. Then it was a straight shot all the way back to the house. Beth and I took turns driving, and made it back the next night. After the horrible experience in Texas, it would be four years before I went to another gathering.

  • Right after we got back it was carnival time again at the Prince William county fair, and I did the Maryland State fair again too. The money was just too good not to. But I didn’t get to finish the State fair because I sold a thousand hits of acid to one of the carnies, and he sold to everybody else on the carnival. One of the dumb ride jocks ended up driving an eighteen wheeler through a cinder block restroom. It had twenty women and twenty men stalls, but luckily he did it at 3am so nobody was in it. But still, I figured the cops might trace it back to me so I split.
    Eric and Susan (his girlfriend that he ended up marrying) had a World Series party in October. That will always be my favorite World Series. Everybody at the party was predicting the A’s were going to wipe out the Dodgers. I think I was the only one there rooting for LA. Kurt Gibson hit the home run in the first game that day on the way to the series win. It was almost a little payback for having to put up with the Redskins win over the Broncos.
    In November I decided to do the Arizona State fair. I got a drive-away car in Virginia Beach that I was to deliver in Phoenix. I took I 70 out to Colorado, and stopped in to see Dixie again. I didn’t have the dogs, I left them with Beth, so I stayed a few days. We dosed up with Jude, Teresa and a guy named Todd who grew up with Will (Norm’s little brother). Then when I left to go to Phoenix, Todd caught a ride with me.
    The Arizona State Fair was a dud. I only made two hundred dollars for the two weeks I was there. I managed to get another drive-away car back to Virginia. It was a Toyota MR2 that had been hit in the rear, and the guy that was making payments on it quit paying after it got hit. So I was supposed to deliver it back to the dealership. The right rear taillight was busted and had a temporary light attached.
    I was headed east on I40 doing about eighty, when a State Police spotted me and came after me and pulled me over. He said he pulled me over because he noticed the temporary taillight and wanted to make sure it worked. But he saw that it worked when I stopped, but then he wanted to search me car for drugs. He pulled out my duffel bag and my guitar and went through everything. He even checked all the pockets of my clothes in my duffel bag. The one place he didn’t check was a compartment on the console between the seats. That’s where I had my stash of pot and acid. If he would have found it I’d probably still be in prison. So after tearing my duffel bag apart and searching everything in it, he took off. Fifty miles later on down the road, the MR2 blew a rod.
    I hitched to the nearest town and called the dealership in Virginia. They had the car towed to Albuquerque, and I was on my own from there. Luckily I caught a ride from a trucker at the truck stop at the I40/I25 interchange. He gave me a ride all the way to Richmond Virginia in one day. We ate cross tops the whole way. That was my last experience as a carnie.