xRastaxRuggzx
Well-known member
Life has been a bit slow recently. Been stationary for a few weeks in Central CA. Housed up with an older, very strict, conservative Christian couple... so when I remembered I had court in Santa Monica, I only thought of one thing: freedom.
Was going to get a ride from the people I had been staying with to Santa Maria on the Sunday after Tofurkey Day. We ended up stopping at a gas station, and I went out of the car to go talk to people pumping gas. I meet a college aged guy, Micah, who is heading back to Thousand Oaks from S.F. He accepts my ride proposal and I go to the car and get my gear out and transfer it to Micah's car. Already this day was starting out great, instead of a ride 40 minutes south of where I was, I end up being 40 miles north of my destination.
Micah was a really cool guy. We talked alot about different philosophies and learning styles.He is a waiter at a upper casual steakhouse in the Malibu area, and told me some stories of celebrities he had waited on. According to him, the rich and the famous usually don't tip much extra, even though they have it. He was gracious enough to smoke his last bowls on the ride back with me. I hadn't smoked in about a week and a half, so this was a great treat. As we approach Thousand Oaks, it is beginning to get dark. Micah is going to his parents house, and I get the feeling they aren't very traveler friendly. We stop at a gas station near the 101 and he goes in and buys some slams for me. We part as it is getting late, and he gives me this really cool leather bound journal with nice paper in it and a pretty warm black jacket. The jacket was great, as it was going to be my "court clothes". I go to the interstate after hittin up the scratchers. (I had some good luck in SLO with scratchers, so that had been my vice at the time.) I win 20 bucks after spending 5, so I decide to walk to the interstate. It wasn't too far of a walk, and I go to the grassy field inbetween the onramp and the offramp. The first group of bushes was occupied, so I decided to walk to the other side of the field and sleep in a small grove of bushes. There was ample room in there and not too much trash, so I drink a slam and relax, looking back on the beautiful day. I wake up at like 4 in the morning, to an intense rattling sound from all around me. I remembered that I had left my pack open when I was asleep, and was worried the rattling had come from in there. I turn on my headlamp to see a few snakes moving toward the other side of the bushes.There was still three near me. I got hella scared, jumped nearly outta my sleeping bag, and darted out of the bushes. I laid my sleeping bag out and cautiously go to retrieve my guitar and pack. Luckily no more encounters with snakes after that. So I wake up in the morning, the hitchhiking and flying suck so I take a short series of public transportation buses to Santa Monica/Venice for like 4.50 total. Not too bad. Get into Santa Monica and go to the police department, where I had to find out where my courthouse was for court. Finding out the information, but not the address, I leave and walk over towards the Pier off of Colorado. See a cute dog and an equally cute girl sitting outside of McCruelty with two packs. I approach her, and introduce myself. She said her name was Kat, and that the companion by her side was her road dogg's pup, Hazel. Hazel was about six months, American Pit. I offer her some smokes I was given earlier as her road dogg walks out, a really relaxed lookin guy named Rounder. They mention they were going to go find a dumpster and get some booze and extend the offer for me to join them.We walk to the 7/11 near the promenode, where two cops harrass my new companions for not having the dog registered (in Santa Monica, apparently you have to have your dog registered in the city even if they were registered somewhere else.) as well as Kat not having id. So after that gets cleared up, we hastily walk toward the convient store. We get a varied assortment of Tilts,Hurricanes, Earthquakes (dont try em, they suck.), and Steele Reserve and decide we are not trying to get hassled by the cops again and beeline toward Venice. We make it past Pico and find a picnic table to chill at. As we are schwillin our beer, we get to talking about life, the road, music and such. They had recently lightened their load of musical instruments, so Rounder got his guitar playin in. I really enjoyed his capo work. Kat shows me the many patches/quilts/blankets she had. She had some lovely decoration with her patches, ranging from anything from Tony the Tiger eating pizza to Cheech and Chong back patch. We do some trades after we are a bit more relaxed. I had some pendant things on my necklace that I gave to Rounder in exchange for a really cool black and white guitar strap with bears on it. So we start moseyin toward the boardwalk, in search of fun times and dank nugs. There were more kids around this trip than I had seen when I was last there a few weeks prior. I end up getting a couple nug kickdowns in the walk, and we meet up with some kids that had been chillin there a minute. They invite us to their squat by the canals. some of the kids were Lurch, his ole' lady Johnny, and their road dogg Mumbles. There are these canals on like N. Venice Blvd and Pacific that have little walk ways down towards the water. The cops dont usually fuck with people down there. Its sad though the amount of pollution in the water. There are a family of ducks that live in that filthy grime, and alot of the locals think its funny to spit and let the ducks eat it or throw random trash and bottles into their home. There was this one duck, who I liked to call V, because his feathers/bone structure would come up in a v sorta on the top of his head. But I'm rambling. Lurch, Johnny, and Mumbles were really cool kids. We ended up playing some rummy that night for a couple hours over a spacebag and some more various 24 oz.s, I end up sharing my sleeping bag with Kat that night, mine was broken and her's was too. It worked out well anyways. Had a romantic night. Didnt have sex, no protection an it was that time, but I felt we really connected. talked about riding freight together and all sorts of stuff for hours as I went down on her.Wake up the next mornin, about ready to puke up the Peanut Butter I had in my pack. So we get beer pitch together, slam one in the morning and start to get the day started. As we are walking towards the drag, we walk down an alley, and see a wild turkey walking down near a dumpster. So fucking random, right after Thanksgiving. Thinking Animal Control is going to take it and euthanize it, we feed it and make a makeshift collar and lead for it until we can find it sanctuary. Having a turkey amidst a pack of dirty kids doesn't help for keeping a low profile. We soon draw attention of alot of local homebums, and one decides to call Animal Control and the cops. Just about that time, Johnny sees the local Vegan Brochure/Literature guy that hangs out on the boardwalk. They make arrangements to get the bird to a safe place, and Rounder, Kat, Hazel, and I decide to go off and wander. We end up walking north on Venice Blvd, going through all the alleys and having a decent time dumpstering. I find some good fabric material and potential patches, there is a plethora of food for Kat, Rounder, and Hazel. In one alley we end up finding pretty much a Thanksgiving feast in the trash. I find two partial decks of cards in one can, so Im happy, then find strawberries and alot of almonds and mixed nuts in another. We start walking toward the interstate, when it starts to get late, so we instead just fly the median and light near the 7/11. Did alright. Rounder was a bit reluctant to use my sign, "Sex, Now That I have your attention, can you spare some change?" So i hit it up else where and made a grip. It was fun getting to hang out with these kids though not gonna lie. I started to develop a crush on Kat, and Rounder was cool. We go back to the squat later, after getting some more nug kicked down. (Rounder doesn't smoke, shitty, since hes the one who got the kickdown.) There ends up being like ten kids sleeping there that night, a couple fresh faces just came into town. Luke and Jack had just rolled in. Unfortunately, we had like three jooses to go around, and there were hella heads. So I was starting to get antsy, and having this many people around made my social anxiety kick in even moreso than before. Idk, theres something about crowds larger than like three people that make it tougher for me to talk to people. So I smoke a bowl or two with Kat and start to roll out my sleeping bag. That night was pretty uneventful...didn't even manage to get some cards in due to one kid bein hella drunk and mumbling incoherently about how he wanted to play spades each hand but couldnt grasp the concept of the game. The next morning I wake up, get my shit ready, and write Kat, Rounder, and Hazel a note in the front of that journal Micah had given me and I adressed the journal to them. They seemed like cool kids, and even though they were heading south and I north, we had considered travelling together least to like San Diego for a week or so. I had to go to court that morning, so I manage to get out to the bus on Lincoln and catch the bus just in time to the court house. As im rushing to the LAX courthouse, trying to find a way in there from the busterminal, I think of the time. Thinking I was oging to be late, started getting a little more frantic. I finally get there, and leave my knives and sharpies in one of the planter bushes infront of the courthouse. Go in and wait in line for about four hours at the clerk of court after checkin every courtroom for my name. Apparently, there were multiple cases from Santa Monica P.D. that were supposed to be on file today but dindt show on the computers. We were all there for ridiculous shit, too. I was there for tying my shoe on a median (They called it panhandling bc I had signs in my pack) misdemanor. The people in front of me and behind were there for riding bikes on the sidewalk. So they give me a paper saying I showed, and say they are gonna mail me the next court date...yeah right. I go back to the bus stop and meet this kid i had met last time in Venice who was heading to the dispensary so we rode there together. We smoked up and then he dashed off to work, and I went back to the boardwalk. Spent a while busking, to no avail. As I was high walking around, I kept thinking I was hearing people talking shit about me. Some times it would be Kat and Rounder's voices, and in explicit detail I would hear them talking about my personality. Some of it was positive stuff, but the majority was negative. the weird thing was they weren't with me. I heard alotta shit about how Im awkward, a drug addict, all sorts of shit, and it definately didnt help matters much. That along with hearing passersby when I was busking commenting on me weren't exactly boosts to my self esteem. I run into Kat, Rounder, Hazel, and Jack later who are heading to Marina Del Ray, I was gonna go with them and hang out, (partially to see if they were actually talking shit about me,) but got sidetracked as we were walking by a friend who offered to break me off some hash and nug in exchange for a couple bucks for food. So I walk towards Marina Del Ray, about fifteen to twenty minutes behind them, and find a good spot on the beach to hang out since I couldnt find them. I decide to just start smoking on the sand as the sun begins to set. About that time, I saw a couple smaller groups of people within potential earshot along the sand, but couldnt distinguish more than one group. I had begun to hear the voices again. this time it went into more detail talking mad shit even about me wlaking all the way out here alone. So after about twenty minutes of all these voices, I find a chill lookin homebum on the beach and we walk to the beer store. He is from West Africa, names Chris, and he had only been in the states 4 months, so his english was a bit broken. We get to the beer store and I tell em to go in and get me tilts and 40s. He comes out with a forty of steel reserve and two 24's of 211. not a bad choice, but I had asked for tilt. so I slam one of the 24's with him in an alley and start walking back toward Venice in despair as Chris starts saying he wanted to sleep where I was tonight, wasn't wantin any of that. I get back to the squat, and Lurch and his road doggs are there hanging out. I spin some party favors with them and we talk about our days. After about an hour, Kat, Rounder, Hazel, and Jack show back up. I felt really nervous that night and clung to Mary Jane like she was my only hope. Was woken up multiple times that night by the sounds of muffled orgasms, so insomnia kicked in reall quick. I know how those ducks feel, I thought. Especially V, who was a bit of the outcast among the filth dwellers. No other ducks will wanna play with him because he is different. I felt the same way that night. So the next morning, I go out to busk in Santa Monica and was gonna meet up with Kat, Rounder, and Hazel to go to San Diego a little later on. I ended up taking all day making some money for the road, but when I got to Venice they were gone. I figured it was for the best just to go north, as they were going to be walking toward Palo Verdes and there would be no way of catching up with them even if i took a bus. So I started the trip back to Paso Robles, to be with the one girl that I know loves me, my dog. I took that bus back to Thousand Oaks, and as I got there, I almost immediately got a ride up to Ventura from there from this guy Richard who played alotta blues guitar. Stayed in Ventura for the night and awoke the next morning to horrible flying, nowhere to busk, and shit hitchhiking. I decided to start walking, and as I get past the "Pedestrians,Bicycles, Motor Vehicles less than..." sign the cops come. A cop gets out and asks me the usual. He then sees my sticker on my guitar that says Police Not Welcome. That doesnt turn over well. He starts getting really defensive, when another cop comes. This new arrival was younger and seemed laid back. he was CHP and said he was heading to Santa Barbara,so if I promised never to come back to Ventura I could get a ride. He dropped me off on State Street bout halfway between the greyhound and interstate. I decided to go try hitchhiking for a bit before worrying about a potential greyhound/amtrak if it wasnt going to work. It only would have been like 25 bucks anyways if i were to take a greayhound, so im sure amtrak would have been cheaper, but i try hitchhiking. The onramp sucks, but after about two hours, a guy stops and gives me a ride a few exits north. he smokes me down and kicks down like a half eighth and we stop by the coffee store on the way to the interstate. This coffee store was dank as fuck. They had all sorts of vegan pastries and cookies and soy creamer. A bit over priced, but I offered to pay and the guy refused. he was high rollin' so I didnt feel too bad. Get to the onramp and stand out there for a few hours, thinking the whole time about what would be going on if i were heading south with those kids. Wrote quite a few songs that afternoon based on my experiences this week. I wondered if there was ever any hope for me, let alone a chance to be with Kat. Oh well, probably not. I mean thats how life is, there is a glimmer of happiness that gets taken away and substituted with more intoxicants to numb the pain/discomfort. So I get a ride from this van. A girl jumps out and runs towards me "Hurry up kid we are gas juggin our way to the City" so I run up there and meet Kine, a blonde earthy mama, and her husband, Dragon. They are rubbertramping now in a van with their two beautiful dogs, Dakota and Purple. They seem like really nice people, coming back from court in SM heading back to SF then Humboldt to work the Emerald Cup. As we get down the rode some, about 100 miles from my destination, we pull off at a Shell station to gas jugg and stuff. I make a circle around and get like seven bucks, and they got some gas kicked down. As we are leaving, the cops show. Apparently, neither of them had a lisence, but Dragon had a permit. So the cops now run all our names, and Kine gets taken to Santa Barbara for a DIP ticket from like 7 years ago. Ridiculous. They were thinkin bout takin the van, when I was like hey i have a lisence cant I just drive. So I do that and we get a couple miles down the road north, and I give Dragon my gas money. He was a wreck after this, lost his wife and got his PO called on some bullshit. We part and wish each other the best, and I find a place to sleep around there. The next morning I start walking down the interstate, and after about seven miles, a fancy BMW pulls up. The driver gives me a ride to Santa Maria, and drops me off at the grey hound. I find a bus there that is 2 bucks to SLO and he gave me fifty bucks before he left. So I catch this bus, then catch another one to Paso Robles, and go abck to the boring existence that is here. But hey, least I have something to knitt here.
Was going to get a ride from the people I had been staying with to Santa Maria on the Sunday after Tofurkey Day. We ended up stopping at a gas station, and I went out of the car to go talk to people pumping gas. I meet a college aged guy, Micah, who is heading back to Thousand Oaks from S.F. He accepts my ride proposal and I go to the car and get my gear out and transfer it to Micah's car. Already this day was starting out great, instead of a ride 40 minutes south of where I was, I end up being 40 miles north of my destination.
Micah was a really cool guy. We talked alot about different philosophies and learning styles.He is a waiter at a upper casual steakhouse in the Malibu area, and told me some stories of celebrities he had waited on. According to him, the rich and the famous usually don't tip much extra, even though they have it. He was gracious enough to smoke his last bowls on the ride back with me. I hadn't smoked in about a week and a half, so this was a great treat. As we approach Thousand Oaks, it is beginning to get dark. Micah is going to his parents house, and I get the feeling they aren't very traveler friendly. We stop at a gas station near the 101 and he goes in and buys some slams for me. We part as it is getting late, and he gives me this really cool leather bound journal with nice paper in it and a pretty warm black jacket. The jacket was great, as it was going to be my "court clothes". I go to the interstate after hittin up the scratchers. (I had some good luck in SLO with scratchers, so that had been my vice at the time.) I win 20 bucks after spending 5, so I decide to walk to the interstate. It wasn't too far of a walk, and I go to the grassy field inbetween the onramp and the offramp. The first group of bushes was occupied, so I decided to walk to the other side of the field and sleep in a small grove of bushes. There was ample room in there and not too much trash, so I drink a slam and relax, looking back on the beautiful day. I wake up at like 4 in the morning, to an intense rattling sound from all around me. I remembered that I had left my pack open when I was asleep, and was worried the rattling had come from in there. I turn on my headlamp to see a few snakes moving toward the other side of the bushes.There was still three near me. I got hella scared, jumped nearly outta my sleeping bag, and darted out of the bushes. I laid my sleeping bag out and cautiously go to retrieve my guitar and pack. Luckily no more encounters with snakes after that. So I wake up in the morning, the hitchhiking and flying suck so I take a short series of public transportation buses to Santa Monica/Venice for like 4.50 total. Not too bad. Get into Santa Monica and go to the police department, where I had to find out where my courthouse was for court. Finding out the information, but not the address, I leave and walk over towards the Pier off of Colorado. See a cute dog and an equally cute girl sitting outside of McCruelty with two packs. I approach her, and introduce myself. She said her name was Kat, and that the companion by her side was her road dogg's pup, Hazel. Hazel was about six months, American Pit. I offer her some smokes I was given earlier as her road dogg walks out, a really relaxed lookin guy named Rounder. They mention they were going to go find a dumpster and get some booze and extend the offer for me to join them.We walk to the 7/11 near the promenode, where two cops harrass my new companions for not having the dog registered (in Santa Monica, apparently you have to have your dog registered in the city even if they were registered somewhere else.) as well as Kat not having id. So after that gets cleared up, we hastily walk toward the convient store. We get a varied assortment of Tilts,Hurricanes, Earthquakes (dont try em, they suck.), and Steele Reserve and decide we are not trying to get hassled by the cops again and beeline toward Venice. We make it past Pico and find a picnic table to chill at. As we are schwillin our beer, we get to talking about life, the road, music and such. They had recently lightened their load of musical instruments, so Rounder got his guitar playin in. I really enjoyed his capo work. Kat shows me the many patches/quilts/blankets she had. She had some lovely decoration with her patches, ranging from anything from Tony the Tiger eating pizza to Cheech and Chong back patch. We do some trades after we are a bit more relaxed. I had some pendant things on my necklace that I gave to Rounder in exchange for a really cool black and white guitar strap with bears on it. So we start moseyin toward the boardwalk, in search of fun times and dank nugs. There were more kids around this trip than I had seen when I was last there a few weeks prior. I end up getting a couple nug kickdowns in the walk, and we meet up with some kids that had been chillin there a minute. They invite us to their squat by the canals. some of the kids were Lurch, his ole' lady Johnny, and their road dogg Mumbles. There are these canals on like N. Venice Blvd and Pacific that have little walk ways down towards the water. The cops dont usually fuck with people down there. Its sad though the amount of pollution in the water. There are a family of ducks that live in that filthy grime, and alot of the locals think its funny to spit and let the ducks eat it or throw random trash and bottles into their home. There was this one duck, who I liked to call V, because his feathers/bone structure would come up in a v sorta on the top of his head. But I'm rambling. Lurch, Johnny, and Mumbles were really cool kids. We ended up playing some rummy that night for a couple hours over a spacebag and some more various 24 oz.s, I end up sharing my sleeping bag with Kat that night, mine was broken and her's was too. It worked out well anyways. Had a romantic night. Didnt have sex, no protection an it was that time, but I felt we really connected. talked about riding freight together and all sorts of stuff for hours as I went down on her.Wake up the next mornin, about ready to puke up the Peanut Butter I had in my pack. So we get beer pitch together, slam one in the morning and start to get the day started. As we are walking towards the drag, we walk down an alley, and see a wild turkey walking down near a dumpster. So fucking random, right after Thanksgiving. Thinking Animal Control is going to take it and euthanize it, we feed it and make a makeshift collar and lead for it until we can find it sanctuary. Having a turkey amidst a pack of dirty kids doesn't help for keeping a low profile. We soon draw attention of alot of local homebums, and one decides to call Animal Control and the cops. Just about that time, Johnny sees the local Vegan Brochure/Literature guy that hangs out on the boardwalk. They make arrangements to get the bird to a safe place, and Rounder, Kat, Hazel, and I decide to go off and wander. We end up walking north on Venice Blvd, going through all the alleys and having a decent time dumpstering. I find some good fabric material and potential patches, there is a plethora of food for Kat, Rounder, and Hazel. In one alley we end up finding pretty much a Thanksgiving feast in the trash. I find two partial decks of cards in one can, so Im happy, then find strawberries and alot of almonds and mixed nuts in another. We start walking toward the interstate, when it starts to get late, so we instead just fly the median and light near the 7/11. Did alright. Rounder was a bit reluctant to use my sign, "Sex, Now That I have your attention, can you spare some change?" So i hit it up else where and made a grip. It was fun getting to hang out with these kids though not gonna lie. I started to develop a crush on Kat, and Rounder was cool. We go back to the squat later, after getting some more nug kicked down. (Rounder doesn't smoke, shitty, since hes the one who got the kickdown.) There ends up being like ten kids sleeping there that night, a couple fresh faces just came into town. Luke and Jack had just rolled in. Unfortunately, we had like three jooses to go around, and there were hella heads. So I was starting to get antsy, and having this many people around made my social anxiety kick in even moreso than before. Idk, theres something about crowds larger than like three people that make it tougher for me to talk to people. So I smoke a bowl or two with Kat and start to roll out my sleeping bag. That night was pretty uneventful...didn't even manage to get some cards in due to one kid bein hella drunk and mumbling incoherently about how he wanted to play spades each hand but couldnt grasp the concept of the game. The next morning I wake up, get my shit ready, and write Kat, Rounder, and Hazel a note in the front of that journal Micah had given me and I adressed the journal to them. They seemed like cool kids, and even though they were heading south and I north, we had considered travelling together least to like San Diego for a week or so. I had to go to court that morning, so I manage to get out to the bus on Lincoln and catch the bus just in time to the court house. As im rushing to the LAX courthouse, trying to find a way in there from the busterminal, I think of the time. Thinking I was oging to be late, started getting a little more frantic. I finally get there, and leave my knives and sharpies in one of the planter bushes infront of the courthouse. Go in and wait in line for about four hours at the clerk of court after checkin every courtroom for my name. Apparently, there were multiple cases from Santa Monica P.D. that were supposed to be on file today but dindt show on the computers. We were all there for ridiculous shit, too. I was there for tying my shoe on a median (They called it panhandling bc I had signs in my pack) misdemanor. The people in front of me and behind were there for riding bikes on the sidewalk. So they give me a paper saying I showed, and say they are gonna mail me the next court date...yeah right. I go back to the bus stop and meet this kid i had met last time in Venice who was heading to the dispensary so we rode there together. We smoked up and then he dashed off to work, and I went back to the boardwalk. Spent a while busking, to no avail. As I was high walking around, I kept thinking I was hearing people talking shit about me. Some times it would be Kat and Rounder's voices, and in explicit detail I would hear them talking about my personality. Some of it was positive stuff, but the majority was negative. the weird thing was they weren't with me. I heard alotta shit about how Im awkward, a drug addict, all sorts of shit, and it definately didnt help matters much. That along with hearing passersby when I was busking commenting on me weren't exactly boosts to my self esteem. I run into Kat, Rounder, Hazel, and Jack later who are heading to Marina Del Ray, I was gonna go with them and hang out, (partially to see if they were actually talking shit about me,) but got sidetracked as we were walking by a friend who offered to break me off some hash and nug in exchange for a couple bucks for food. So I walk towards Marina Del Ray, about fifteen to twenty minutes behind them, and find a good spot on the beach to hang out since I couldnt find them. I decide to just start smoking on the sand as the sun begins to set. About that time, I saw a couple smaller groups of people within potential earshot along the sand, but couldnt distinguish more than one group. I had begun to hear the voices again. this time it went into more detail talking mad shit even about me wlaking all the way out here alone. So after about twenty minutes of all these voices, I find a chill lookin homebum on the beach and we walk to the beer store. He is from West Africa, names Chris, and he had only been in the states 4 months, so his english was a bit broken. We get to the beer store and I tell em to go in and get me tilts and 40s. He comes out with a forty of steel reserve and two 24's of 211. not a bad choice, but I had asked for tilt. so I slam one of the 24's with him in an alley and start walking back toward Venice in despair as Chris starts saying he wanted to sleep where I was tonight, wasn't wantin any of that. I get back to the squat, and Lurch and his road doggs are there hanging out. I spin some party favors with them and we talk about our days. After about an hour, Kat, Rounder, Hazel, and Jack show back up. I felt really nervous that night and clung to Mary Jane like she was my only hope. Was woken up multiple times that night by the sounds of muffled orgasms, so insomnia kicked in reall quick. I know how those ducks feel, I thought. Especially V, who was a bit of the outcast among the filth dwellers. No other ducks will wanna play with him because he is different. I felt the same way that night. So the next morning, I go out to busk in Santa Monica and was gonna meet up with Kat, Rounder, and Hazel to go to San Diego a little later on. I ended up taking all day making some money for the road, but when I got to Venice they were gone. I figured it was for the best just to go north, as they were going to be walking toward Palo Verdes and there would be no way of catching up with them even if i took a bus. So I started the trip back to Paso Robles, to be with the one girl that I know loves me, my dog. I took that bus back to Thousand Oaks, and as I got there, I almost immediately got a ride up to Ventura from there from this guy Richard who played alotta blues guitar. Stayed in Ventura for the night and awoke the next morning to horrible flying, nowhere to busk, and shit hitchhiking. I decided to start walking, and as I get past the "Pedestrians,Bicycles, Motor Vehicles less than..." sign the cops come. A cop gets out and asks me the usual. He then sees my sticker on my guitar that says Police Not Welcome. That doesnt turn over well. He starts getting really defensive, when another cop comes. This new arrival was younger and seemed laid back. he was CHP and said he was heading to Santa Barbara,so if I promised never to come back to Ventura I could get a ride. He dropped me off on State Street bout halfway between the greyhound and interstate. I decided to go try hitchhiking for a bit before worrying about a potential greyhound/amtrak if it wasnt going to work. It only would have been like 25 bucks anyways if i were to take a greayhound, so im sure amtrak would have been cheaper, but i try hitchhiking. The onramp sucks, but after about two hours, a guy stops and gives me a ride a few exits north. he smokes me down and kicks down like a half eighth and we stop by the coffee store on the way to the interstate. This coffee store was dank as fuck. They had all sorts of vegan pastries and cookies and soy creamer. A bit over priced, but I offered to pay and the guy refused. he was high rollin' so I didnt feel too bad. Get to the onramp and stand out there for a few hours, thinking the whole time about what would be going on if i were heading south with those kids. Wrote quite a few songs that afternoon based on my experiences this week. I wondered if there was ever any hope for me, let alone a chance to be with Kat. Oh well, probably not. I mean thats how life is, there is a glimmer of happiness that gets taken away and substituted with more intoxicants to numb the pain/discomfort. So I get a ride from this van. A girl jumps out and runs towards me "Hurry up kid we are gas juggin our way to the City" so I run up there and meet Kine, a blonde earthy mama, and her husband, Dragon. They are rubbertramping now in a van with their two beautiful dogs, Dakota and Purple. They seem like really nice people, coming back from court in SM heading back to SF then Humboldt to work the Emerald Cup. As we get down the rode some, about 100 miles from my destination, we pull off at a Shell station to gas jugg and stuff. I make a circle around and get like seven bucks, and they got some gas kicked down. As we are leaving, the cops show. Apparently, neither of them had a lisence, but Dragon had a permit. So the cops now run all our names, and Kine gets taken to Santa Barbara for a DIP ticket from like 7 years ago. Ridiculous. They were thinkin bout takin the van, when I was like hey i have a lisence cant I just drive. So I do that and we get a couple miles down the road north, and I give Dragon my gas money. He was a wreck after this, lost his wife and got his PO called on some bullshit. We part and wish each other the best, and I find a place to sleep around there. The next morning I start walking down the interstate, and after about seven miles, a fancy BMW pulls up. The driver gives me a ride to Santa Maria, and drops me off at the grey hound. I find a bus there that is 2 bucks to SLO and he gave me fifty bucks before he left. So I catch this bus, then catch another one to Paso Robles, and go abck to the boring existence that is here. But hey, least I have something to knitt here.
