That first summer I lived here in Tahoe, camping when and where the spirit moved me, I heard the call of my Phamily. I became a deadhead in the summer of love when I was twelve and witnessed Jerry and the Boys in a little park on a sunny day play the show from the back of a flatbed truck. I can't begin to count the shows I have seen or the friends I have made along the way in this journey.
I had been mourning the loss of the fat man for 3 years when I found out that the rest of the band had re-formed calling themselves the Other Ones. I had to go to shoreline amphitheater in my old town Mountain View and be with my people once again. So off I went off the hill in that infamous little red truck and down to the flats again. The trip down was uneventful and I was supposed to meet up with some Tahoe hippies at the show, I didn't meet them but I did meet someone with some decent blotter that was a very pleasant enhancement to the traveling circus that is known as a Show.
I was home again! With the spinners,tapers,systers and brethren, and due to the success of Touch of Grey the tweekers,dirties,and a host of pseudo-hippies that could not understand the history and the culture that surrounds these events. And the Turkish market know also as the parking lot which is REALLY fun after about an hour of ingesting 300 mics or so of good LSD.
Any way I am getting sidetracked here.
The day was all I expected and I witnessed the show from the start, Rusted Root did a set, which was cool but after many shows it was hardly an appetizer, and then Hot Tuna came on and Jack and Jorma ripped it for the next hour or so, and it was stellar. And then the band hit the stage, three of the original band Phil,Bobby, and Mickey along with John Molo and Steve Kimmock and Bruce Hornsby rounded it out and the joy began! Once the band beyond description got a going there was a gasp from the crowd as Billy Kreutzman, who had been quite incognito from both the tour and the public in general since Jerry' passing, stepped up on the riser and laid down that rock solid rhythm I have grown to know and love. It was a show that would be carved into my memory eternally. I have yet to see the Dead, yet.
As I said it was a perfect night, but as I generally do, I hadn't made any plans. When the show ended I herded back to the lot and partied with kynd pholk until I was chased out of the lot at around 12 am, and I was off once again in the little red truck,oh did I mention a head still really high on LSD, this time at least on very familiar ground albeit late at night and sans lodging for the night (or morning as it was).
I was not about to attempt driving across California in the middle of the night chemically altered to the gills (and full of beer also). Not drunk mind you but buzzed enough. I took a ride back to the Pacific coast for the night and knowing the Santa Cruz sheriff rolled a little further up highway One to the little spot on the map about 10 miles north of the Cruz to Davenport.
Where I parked in a dirt lot and crawled into the bed of the truck without thinking about taking my medicines(still quite a few then,more now!) and fell asleep. I would pop up the cover on the truckbed throw a blue tarp over that and zammo!, instant camper!
Six hours or so later I woke up with a case of full blown gout, which I have suffered from since I was 18 or so. I have in the last 50 years gone through some really heavy duty pain. Nothing compares with the agony of full blown gout, even a broken bone measures up to it. PAIN!
I was in so much I could not even think about crawling out of the back of the truck to the cab where relief was in the form of 10mg vicodin, so I laid there. I laid there just far enough away from the other tribe that no one could hear if I wanted them to, which I did. I finally fell back to a fitful sleep.
OK, so I am so sick I can't move and can't get help when I was awoken by a piercing howl in the direction of the beach. I heard it and paid no more attention to it as I had my own trouble. About 20 minutes past when I heard the familiar, unwelcome sound of police radio chatter. RIGHT next to the truck, and from the chatter I discovered that a couple of kids from the show that were camped there had taken a walk along the sandy cliffs above the Pacific, and the girl had gone over the side 75 feet down. Next thing I know I am lying in the back of the truck surrounded by the police,sherriff and a bunch of gawkers. I pulled the covers over my head just before John Law took a peep and overlooked the 400lb lump laying there. I thought that was bad enough when I hear a chopper flying in to serve in the rescue of the unfortunate young woman. Guess where they decided to land the damn thing? Yup, right next to the little red truck! All this activity happening inches away from my fugitive ass. Well I hunkered down and didn't let out a peep and eventually the girl was airlifted away, and all the law enforcement and emt went away. I waited until I heard someone near the truck and called out to them and relief was on the way, I popped 4 vikes and waited until I was numbed enough to crawl out and get in the cab and able to drive, and drive I did, I drove it all the way home to Tahoe, and did not leave the hill again until after my little stay at the greybar. There is no moral to this story it is just another chronicle in this crazy life of mine.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Sunday, November 07, 2004
THE TROUT THIEF
ONCE AGAIN A TRUE OCCURRENCE (HEY WHO COULD MAKE THIS SHIT UP?)
A little while after the great lettuce smackdown and my last semi-permanent stay at Bayview I was sick of spending all my cash on weekly motel rooms, I was offered a place to couch it for awhile with a guy I had met and decided to room with someone for the first time in many many years, I can barely live with myself much less someone I hardly knew outside of one of Tahoe's many watering holes. But I needed to save,and moved on in anyway.
Now little brother (40) had found a wife and left our beautiful lake for the foothills of Placerville. It had been two months without hearing hide nor hair from him, when I got a phone call from Ryan that John had come back to town for the day and was looking for me. Before you know it the tree stooges were back in action once again! They rolled up to the house with enough booze to supply a college frat party, and it was on. Now my new roomie was more serious about alcohol than any of us, and that was pretty hard to do in those daze. Serious enough that he would wait for the liquor store to open in the mornings to get something to steady his hands enough to hold his wrenches at work. So needless to say he was more than ready to help out with eliminating some of that evil alcohol.
Well the drunker we got the more we drank, and the more we drank, the taller the boots would have to be to wade through all of the bullshit being circulated. After several hours Fogo decides to reveal a secret fishing hole to us. Well I don't know about anybody else but I generally fish in the early morning. Ryan and Fogo decide to go fishin' in the middle of the night and did so. John and I were drunk but not that drunk, so they left, and we drank more, and had a few more laughs and basically passed out.
We were rudely awakened at about 11am by these clowns rolling back home, how they made it there or back is a wonder! And after Ryan tells us about Fogo building a campfire (it was still freezing out) he fell asleep and caught his freakin boots on fire. They got up and fished. And they came home with about 15 decent keeper trout, and we both were impressed. That is until Jim breaks out the biggest damn trout I had ever seen taken out of a river. It had to be 4 or 5 lbs. which is a damn big rainbow trout. We were amazed and surprised, we would be eatin fish for dinner. We thought we would anyway. After a few celebratory rounds I went back to sleep and left the other tree idiots to sleep or tell a few more fish stories or whatever I was hungover and sleepy. Apparently we all fell asleep, or so I thought. We awoke to some really foul language that assaulted us out of sleep and into the kitchen where Ryan was standing pissed off. His big rainbow was MIA. So was Fogo. We waited for hours figuring out exactly where said trout had parted to or more importantly where Mr. Fogo had slunk off to, we searched around the bars, just missing him every step and finding out that Fogo had caught this trout! At least that is what the asshole told anyone that would listen, and with that kind of a fish a lot of people listened to his story. He totally stole the fire and the fish, when we later found him he refused to admit he had stolen it! Even after a few lumps distributed by the angry Irish he claimed that the cat must have taken it out of the sink. The fish cleaned weighed more than the feline. We never found the fish, but we are pretty sure that Fogo in a grand attempt at ass kissing had delivered the trout to his boss as a gift trying to make points to cover his boozing problem. Months after in his 14th or 15th DUI Fogo T-boned a doctor in a new SUV and ended up in prison, we never talked again. But we did see that fishing hole quite a few more times and still visit, and rarely if ever get skunked, although we have never taken another Rainy out the likes of the one that got taken away.
A little while after the great lettuce smackdown and my last semi-permanent stay at Bayview I was sick of spending all my cash on weekly motel rooms, I was offered a place to couch it for awhile with a guy I had met and decided to room with someone for the first time in many many years, I can barely live with myself much less someone I hardly knew outside of one of Tahoe's many watering holes. But I needed to save,and moved on in anyway.
Now little brother (40) had found a wife and left our beautiful lake for the foothills of Placerville. It had been two months without hearing hide nor hair from him, when I got a phone call from Ryan that John had come back to town for the day and was looking for me. Before you know it the tree stooges were back in action once again! They rolled up to the house with enough booze to supply a college frat party, and it was on. Now my new roomie was more serious about alcohol than any of us, and that was pretty hard to do in those daze. Serious enough that he would wait for the liquor store to open in the mornings to get something to steady his hands enough to hold his wrenches at work. So needless to say he was more than ready to help out with eliminating some of that evil alcohol.
Well the drunker we got the more we drank, and the more we drank, the taller the boots would have to be to wade through all of the bullshit being circulated. After several hours Fogo decides to reveal a secret fishing hole to us. Well I don't know about anybody else but I generally fish in the early morning. Ryan and Fogo decide to go fishin' in the middle of the night and did so. John and I were drunk but not that drunk, so they left, and we drank more, and had a few more laughs and basically passed out.
We were rudely awakened at about 11am by these clowns rolling back home, how they made it there or back is a wonder! And after Ryan tells us about Fogo building a campfire (it was still freezing out) he fell asleep and caught his freakin boots on fire. They got up and fished. And they came home with about 15 decent keeper trout, and we both were impressed. That is until Jim breaks out the biggest damn trout I had ever seen taken out of a river. It had to be 4 or 5 lbs. which is a damn big rainbow trout. We were amazed and surprised, we would be eatin fish for dinner. We thought we would anyway. After a few celebratory rounds I went back to sleep and left the other tree idiots to sleep or tell a few more fish stories or whatever I was hungover and sleepy. Apparently we all fell asleep, or so I thought. We awoke to some really foul language that assaulted us out of sleep and into the kitchen where Ryan was standing pissed off. His big rainbow was MIA. So was Fogo. We waited for hours figuring out exactly where said trout had parted to or more importantly where Mr. Fogo had slunk off to, we searched around the bars, just missing him every step and finding out that Fogo had caught this trout! At least that is what the asshole told anyone that would listen, and with that kind of a fish a lot of people listened to his story. He totally stole the fire and the fish, when we later found him he refused to admit he had stolen it! Even after a few lumps distributed by the angry Irish he claimed that the cat must have taken it out of the sink. The fish cleaned weighed more than the feline. We never found the fish, but we are pretty sure that Fogo in a grand attempt at ass kissing had delivered the trout to his boss as a gift trying to make points to cover his boozing problem. Months after in his 14th or 15th DUI Fogo T-boned a doctor in a new SUV and ended up in prison, we never talked again. But we did see that fishing hole quite a few more times and still visit, and rarely if ever get skunked, although we have never taken another Rainy out the likes of the one that got taken away.
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Monday, November 01, 2004
HOW I ENDED UP IN LAKE TAHOE
Or my brush with the LAW
My story starts in spring 98 when I was evicted. I went and rented a Chevy s10 with a tonneu cover on back. For the purpose of hauling my stuff to storage, my brother asked if he could borrow it, and showed back 5 days later with 1000 miles racked up on the thing.
I was stuck I felt if I brought it back without money they would throw me in jail.
So I threw my coleman stove, bag, lantern and took off for the beach, Prior to all this I had a pretty bad addiction to meth and left to try and dis-associate myself with everyone in that circle. So I spent a month in Monterey bay area car camping because I had a friend nearby I could go to to take showers and get a real meal. I lived like that for a month and she told me they were going camping the following week at a lake up in the sierras. It was 30 miles up a dirt road and I set up camp on the lake and waited a week, they never showed up so after waiting another day for someone to give me a jump I took off back down, but when I called from Auburn and found out the kid got sick, I was close to Tahoe so I said what the hell I got nothing better to do, so I took off up here to my lake, I arrived at 3:30 pm at HARVEY'S and left Caesars -$600 at 5:30 am, broke, I decided to find the cheapest camp I could find, little did I know Bayview would be my home more than once (see prior story on blog), anyway I had a blast there camping and drinking lots of beer and encountering a bear that I came to know closely, I kicked it there for a little over a month, and one of the reasons I was drinking lot of beer, besides the obvious was that was although there was a faucet there but there was no water, it was the downfall of my criminal career. It was at a trailhead and across from the lookout at Emerald Bay and there were thirsty campers,and hikers,and gawkers aplenty so I devised a business plan went to K-mart and started buying cases of bottled water and loading my big ice chest and sit there and let the money come to me. Well all went well for a week or so and then a STAR patrol (which is a bunch of retired law enforcement boys and girls with nothing better to do) he rolled up and asked me if I had a business license, I say no but I will stop, I did until I saw his taillights going away. Well another week went by and here he comes again, this time I have no signs and am just sitting minding my own business next thing I know I am surrounded by sheriff,CHP,and forest service law enforcement,(or as they are lovingly refferred to TWIG PIGS),with guns drawn on this dumb old hippie...quick end to my criminal life, arrested for Grand Theft Auto I spent 91 days at greybar hotel for it plus 5 years probation, I would have gotten more but my record was clean except 2 DUI's in the 70s, and as my dear readers can see from previous storys(I will not say I have never done anything criminal, I just never got caught!) but during my stay my social security checks kept coming direct deposit and when released I had enough scratch to find myself a apartment and have not been off the hill since then exept the rare occaision (like a trip to Reno)
I am felonious.
I think I can get it reduced to misdemeanor but hate legal bullshit plus being the worlds champion procrastinator.
So that's how I ended up in paradise with a view, aka the world vortex for nutcases and snow people. yup it hasn't affected my life at all until it gets around election time and I can't voice my say. It makes me appreciate our system a little more, nothing is so fucked up in this country that it's people can not change. Unless they don't have a say.
Why are our days numbered and not... say... lettered?
Woody Allen
My story starts in spring 98 when I was evicted. I went and rented a Chevy s10 with a tonneu cover on back. For the purpose of hauling my stuff to storage, my brother asked if he could borrow it, and showed back 5 days later with 1000 miles racked up on the thing.
I was stuck I felt if I brought it back without money they would throw me in jail.
So I threw my coleman stove, bag, lantern and took off for the beach, Prior to all this I had a pretty bad addiction to meth and left to try and dis-associate myself with everyone in that circle. So I spent a month in Monterey bay area car camping because I had a friend nearby I could go to to take showers and get a real meal. I lived like that for a month and she told me they were going camping the following week at a lake up in the sierras. It was 30 miles up a dirt road and I set up camp on the lake and waited a week, they never showed up so after waiting another day for someone to give me a jump I took off back down, but when I called from Auburn and found out the kid got sick, I was close to Tahoe so I said what the hell I got nothing better to do, so I took off up here to my lake, I arrived at 3:30 pm at HARVEY'S and left Caesars -$600 at 5:30 am, broke, I decided to find the cheapest camp I could find, little did I know Bayview would be my home more than once (see prior story on blog), anyway I had a blast there camping and drinking lots of beer and encountering a bear that I came to know closely, I kicked it there for a little over a month, and one of the reasons I was drinking lot of beer, besides the obvious was that was although there was a faucet there but there was no water, it was the downfall of my criminal career. It was at a trailhead and across from the lookout at Emerald Bay and there were thirsty campers,and hikers,and gawkers aplenty so I devised a business plan went to K-mart and started buying cases of bottled water and loading my big ice chest and sit there and let the money come to me. Well all went well for a week or so and then a STAR patrol (which is a bunch of retired law enforcement boys and girls with nothing better to do) he rolled up and asked me if I had a business license, I say no but I will stop, I did until I saw his taillights going away. Well another week went by and here he comes again, this time I have no signs and am just sitting minding my own business next thing I know I am surrounded by sheriff,CHP,and forest service law enforcement,(or as they are lovingly refferred to TWIG PIGS),with guns drawn on this dumb old hippie...quick end to my criminal life, arrested for Grand Theft Auto I spent 91 days at greybar hotel for it plus 5 years probation, I would have gotten more but my record was clean except 2 DUI's in the 70s, and as my dear readers can see from previous storys(I will not say I have never done anything criminal, I just never got caught!) but during my stay my social security checks kept coming direct deposit and when released I had enough scratch to find myself a apartment and have not been off the hill since then exept the rare occaision (like a trip to Reno)
I am felonious.
I think I can get it reduced to misdemeanor but hate legal bullshit plus being the worlds champion procrastinator.
So that's how I ended up in paradise with a view, aka the world vortex for nutcases and snow people. yup it hasn't affected my life at all until it gets around election time and I can't voice my say. It makes me appreciate our system a little more, nothing is so fucked up in this country that it's people can not change. Unless they don't have a say.
Why are our days numbered and not... say... lettered?
Woody Allen
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)