(previous chapter)
It wasn't long until it was time for Nelsonville Music Fest. Since I lived in the woods around Nelsonville at the time, moving my tent to the festival was a no-brainer for a camping fee of only $30 for the weekend, like I'd be anywhere else anyway - I've got pride in my home town, and Nelsonville Music Fest is our pinnacle of awesome.
I'm used to volunteering at festivals, or doing something with my time to keep me occupied and meeting people, but I waited too late to apply for Nelsonville. Instead, I racked my brain for things I could do, ways I could add something to the event. In addition to gathering trash, I settled on an idea I had seen at the Ocala Rainbow gathering - Gone Postal.
My weekend was spent going around the campgrounds, delivering festival mail. It was the greatest expression on people's faces when they got mail at the event. I found people by having the person writing the letter I was transporting describe the person I was looking for, their camp, and about where they were located, on the letter. Most of the letters got delivered successfully. I even delivered exactly one letter to someone I already knew - N's brother!
Unfortunately, I was unable to afford the full ticket and wasn't a real volunteer, so missed out on any music that wasn't in the campgrounds. I heard that, when the Flaming Lips played, they sent up a giant balloon that said, "Fuck Yeah Nelsonville" on it, and when it popped, a bunch of kids converged on the pieces and sold them to the crowd for $20 each.
At this point in my life, I figured my next stops would be Wisteria Summer Solstice, then on to Nationals in Michigan, then up to Maine to work on a farm. In the meantime, I wanted to see N again before I left, but wasn't sure where we stood anymore. I messaged her to ask if I could stop by before I left if I behaved, and she told me that she didn't want me to have to behave, she just wanted me as a friend, and that I would see her at Solstice. After trying for the last couple years to get N to like me as something more than that, and her still insisting she wanted me as a friend, I figured she deserved to have me as a friend - not some flake that disappeared at every turn because I couldn't control my feelings.
At Solstice, I was back on trash crew like most any time I was at Wisteria. In addition, I also helped out in the kitchen in exchange for free meals. Besides, the kitchen is where most of my friends were, anyway. N brought Go Time and Banjo.
The council for Nationals was in South Dakota in the Black Hills on Lakota territory, but they didn't want us there. I assumed the consensus would be to hold the gathering in Michigan, which was where I had heard all year it was going to be, but council elected to stay where they were. This decision was made late into Solstice. In light of the gathering being held on native territory without a proper invitation, I elected to stay in Ohio and do Starwood instead.
As a result of staying in Ohio for Starwood, I ended up at N's house again for the in-between period, then helping out in the kitchen to get into Wormhole, which takes place the week before Starwood.
Wormhole is filled with Subgeniuses, which are people that worship a prophet, named Bob, whom was contacted by the alien Jehovah 1 to brainwash the people into working for a living, but he infiltrated their ranks to promote slack instead. They're an interesting group, to say the least, and they make some good breakfast for the "Last Pancakes On Earth."
Wormhole ran into Starwood and more hippies started to arrive. N's brother's crew's camp was set up in the same location and style as the crew N and I had been a part of when we met in 2012. The night before the big bonfire, I sat at Crossroads in the middle of the campground and shouted nice things at people, calling myself the reverse troll. The day of the big bonfire, I picked a bunch of flowers and went around passing them out, calling them torches of love and light. I dropped some acid just before my trash shift, and was starting to come up by the time we had finished. I went around the rest of the day giving out more compliments, then found myself at the Marsh Swamp putting glow sticks together just before the fire.
The bonfire is lit after the last act on the main stage, which is followed by a procession to the bonfire field with chanting while they carry the ceremonial torch. Also included in the lighting ritual is a fire-spinning show, and the chasing of new fire tribe members around the fire. There's always a firetruck there for safety reasons, but this year's fire went off without a hitch.
I saw N in a group around the fire and wanted to do a lap around the fire with her so we could talk, but I didn't know what to say and she probably wouldn't have wanted to hear it anyway. I sat down instead, because that made sense to my tripped-out mind. Some blonde girl I had never seen before sat down almost on top of me a few seconds later, and after a few minutes of talking, we ran around the fire together, then she disappeared. I ended up in the pufferdome for awhile so I could be mostly on my own somewhere comfortable to ride out part of my trip, but eventually made my way back to the fire. A few people even approached me who still had their flower from earlier, which really helped my night.
Eventually, worn, I went back to my tent. I was back in Nelsonville a day later.
Showing posts with label rainbow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rainbow. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 4, 2015
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
What A Ride: The Journey Home
(previous chapter)
I have to admit my memory gets hazy right here because the journey happened so fast, but at some point I was picked up by a woman named Sam, who gave me a ride back to Union, South Carolina. The ride offer was to Spartanburg, but I wanted to see if I could see Dale again on my way home. Sam, familiar with hitchhikers, Rainbow, and a Ren Fair participant herself, was more than happy to help.
She dropped me off at the McDonald's in Union, but gave me her number in case I couldn't find Dale. I had forgotten how big of a place Union was, and it took quite awhile to get to the end of town that had the road to go out to Dale's, so the sun was already going down at that point and I was feeling rushed to find where Dale lived, or set up camp. I couldn't remember exactly which roads to go down, and the number I had for him in my phone wasn't going through. It didn't matter - as I found out latter the next day, I'd saved the wrong number anyway. I ended up just setting up camp in the woods not far from where Dale and I met.
The next morning, I tried again to find a way to reach Dale, but was unable. In the end, I hiked back to the McDonald's and called Sam, who came and got me and took me to Spartanburg. She took me out to eat a late breakfast before dropping me back off on the interstate.
It didn't take long from there to catch a ride out of Spartanburg, but then things get hazy again. At some point, I caught a ride with two guys who worked on cell phone towers. They dropped me off at a truck stop in Charlotte, North Carolina and told me they had a friend who would be passing through the next day who was going all the way to Ohio. I tried to contact them about their friend while eating at Subway at the truck stop, but their friend didn't seem completely reliable, so I resolved that I would set up camp that night, then hitch out as usual the next morning.
There were already a group of home bums spanging one of the intersections near the truck stop. It seemed like they were having trouble, so I offered the rest of my sub and asked directions to get me set straight, as the intersections between interstates was a little confusing.
I walked down to right by where I'd be hitching out on I-77 and, with the sun setting, hid myself in the cover of trees beside the interstate. There wasn't much depth, and I didn't feel like I would really be hiding with my tent up, so I hopped a fence to get in deeper, setting up camp sandwiched between the interstate and some industrial building.
Once again, my ride out came early in the morning. Mostly jumps of only 2-3 exits up, I caught a few rides that day, then the next, ending with some guy who picked me up because he had just had a sermon in church about how "Wisdom lies not from the East, the South, or the West, but from the North" and my sign said "North". He took me to some truck stop in middle-of-no-where, North Carolina.
It was getting late at that point, so I figured I wasn't going to get anymore rides that day. There was a good field with some cover that I was planning to lay a tarp down in for the night, but I figured I fly a sign until it got too dark; I was starting to see a lot of Ohio license plates and had a really good feeling.
At first, I would make O-H-I-O with my arms whenever I saw an Ohio license plate, but the people either ignored me or shook their heads. I eventually put "Ohio" on the back of my sign and began alternating which side I was flying. A trucker finally stopped when I was just about ready to call it quits for the day, when I was flying the "North" side.
"How far north are you going? I'm going to Ohio."
"I'm going to Ohio," I indicated the other side of my sign.
I rode through with him all the way to Jacksonville, Ohio. It was already night at that point, but I felt like I was home. I walked up a hill beside HW-50/32, laid out my tarp, and went to sleep.
The next morning, I was on my feet again. I wanted to make it home as soon as possible. Before long though, I looked up and suddenly noticed bad storm clouds and that the weather was about to change quick. Being so close to home, I called my grandma to see if she could come get me. Luckily, she was picking up my cousin in Wellston that day. I didn't have time to make it back to Jackson to wait around, so took refugee under the overhang of a church beside the highway until I got picked up.
From there, we went to get my cousin, then went back home. I got dropped off at the library, then contacted one of my friends and went over to his house for the night, which we spent on acid. The drugs amplified the sensation of being out of sync with normal life - even my normal life - after being on the road, and it became apparent I'd need an adjustment period to re-normalize.
(next chapter)
I have to admit my memory gets hazy right here because the journey happened so fast, but at some point I was picked up by a woman named Sam, who gave me a ride back to Union, South Carolina. The ride offer was to Spartanburg, but I wanted to see if I could see Dale again on my way home. Sam, familiar with hitchhikers, Rainbow, and a Ren Fair participant herself, was more than happy to help.
She dropped me off at the McDonald's in Union, but gave me her number in case I couldn't find Dale. I had forgotten how big of a place Union was, and it took quite awhile to get to the end of town that had the road to go out to Dale's, so the sun was already going down at that point and I was feeling rushed to find where Dale lived, or set up camp. I couldn't remember exactly which roads to go down, and the number I had for him in my phone wasn't going through. It didn't matter - as I found out latter the next day, I'd saved the wrong number anyway. I ended up just setting up camp in the woods not far from where Dale and I met.
The next morning, I tried again to find a way to reach Dale, but was unable. In the end, I hiked back to the McDonald's and called Sam, who came and got me and took me to Spartanburg. She took me out to eat a late breakfast before dropping me back off on the interstate.
It didn't take long from there to catch a ride out of Spartanburg, but then things get hazy again. At some point, I caught a ride with two guys who worked on cell phone towers. They dropped me off at a truck stop in Charlotte, North Carolina and told me they had a friend who would be passing through the next day who was going all the way to Ohio. I tried to contact them about their friend while eating at Subway at the truck stop, but their friend didn't seem completely reliable, so I resolved that I would set up camp that night, then hitch out as usual the next morning.
There were already a group of home bums spanging one of the intersections near the truck stop. It seemed like they were having trouble, so I offered the rest of my sub and asked directions to get me set straight, as the intersections between interstates was a little confusing.
I walked down to right by where I'd be hitching out on I-77 and, with the sun setting, hid myself in the cover of trees beside the interstate. There wasn't much depth, and I didn't feel like I would really be hiding with my tent up, so I hopped a fence to get in deeper, setting up camp sandwiched between the interstate and some industrial building.
Once again, my ride out came early in the morning. Mostly jumps of only 2-3 exits up, I caught a few rides that day, then the next, ending with some guy who picked me up because he had just had a sermon in church about how "Wisdom lies not from the East, the South, or the West, but from the North" and my sign said "North". He took me to some truck stop in middle-of-no-where, North Carolina.
It was getting late at that point, so I figured I wasn't going to get anymore rides that day. There was a good field with some cover that I was planning to lay a tarp down in for the night, but I figured I fly a sign until it got too dark; I was starting to see a lot of Ohio license plates and had a really good feeling.
At first, I would make O-H-I-O with my arms whenever I saw an Ohio license plate, but the people either ignored me or shook their heads. I eventually put "Ohio" on the back of my sign and began alternating which side I was flying. A trucker finally stopped when I was just about ready to call it quits for the day, when I was flying the "North" side.
"How far north are you going? I'm going to Ohio."
"I'm going to Ohio," I indicated the other side of my sign.
I rode through with him all the way to Jacksonville, Ohio. It was already night at that point, but I felt like I was home. I walked up a hill beside HW-50/32, laid out my tarp, and went to sleep.
The next morning, I was on my feet again. I wanted to make it home as soon as possible. Before long though, I looked up and suddenly noticed bad storm clouds and that the weather was about to change quick. Being so close to home, I called my grandma to see if she could come get me. Luckily, she was picking up my cousin in Wellston that day. I didn't have time to make it back to Jackson to wait around, so took refugee under the overhang of a church beside the highway until I got picked up.
From there, we went to get my cousin, then went back home. I got dropped off at the library, then contacted one of my friends and went over to his house for the night, which we spent on acid. The drugs amplified the sensation of being out of sync with normal life - even my normal life - after being on the road, and it became apparent I'd need an adjustment period to re-normalize.
(next chapter)
Saturday, September 26, 2015
What A Ride: Apalachicola
(previous chapter)
There weren't many people at holding camp when I arrived, as most people were still in transition from the Ocala gathering. The only camp I remember being set up was Wolfpack 13, though there were a few others.
When we pulled into the campground, I rolled down the window and shouted out the window, "Are we home?"
One of the members of Wolfpack answered, "Are you home? Yes, you're home. Welcome home!"
The man who gave me a ride and I set up camp just off the road, where a fire-pit was already in existence. I kept a stock of wood for fires at night, and making breakfast and coffee in the morning. My ride left after only a few days to go pick up his woman, leaving me with plenty of supplies to feast on. I donated something around half of it to the Stockpot Kitchen, which had become my favorite at Ocala for its very welcoming atmosphere.
An overdose happened very early on at holding camp after a family member consumed a bunch of Benadryl capsules to achieve a high and ended up in the hospital. An emergency council was called to decide on how to act, and one of the members of the family that had not intervened was saved from excommunication for inaction due to a vote that determined that, while sad, the party that had overdosed was an adult - just barely - acting on his own free will. He survived, by the way.
The lake we were gathered beside had been ravaged by Florida State University students that would often come to party, leaving a gigantic mess of nails, broken glass, and other items of trash strewn all around, but focused on the beach. You could shift through the sand for hours in the same place and still be picking up trash. Starting with a girl named Katie, her boyfriend Bo, and myself, we began picking up the mess. The first day was just us, but after that we had an entire group. All we had to do was clean. Other members of the family would satellite us food, drinks, and anything else we might need. I began sorting through the broken glass for pieces to turn into jewelry to reduce the amount being tossed. It wasn't enough. Even with a whole, dedicated group that spent most of their days picking up garbage, there was still trash to be gathered when we left to the actual gathering.
The Forest Service officials that interacted with family were grateful for the effort, giving us a great permit for the Apalachicola gathering, including an extension for cleanup if needed.
I joined up with the Hookah Lounge as a barista at seed camp. I spent almost all of my time there when I wasn't cleaning to keep myself caffeinated and in good company, anyway, so I figured I could learn how to make their (s)expresso (espresso with sweet and condensed milk) and take shifts as barista/host. I traveled with the Hookah Lounge to the Apalachicola seed camp from holding camp
Overall, Apalachicola was a more relaxed gathering than Ocala, with very minimal interference from law enforcement. Well, until the shooting happened.
Towards the end of seed camp, a group of projects kids were engaging in their tradition of burning a tire. The shooter thought he'd record it with his camera, but one of the gatherers took his camera and smashed it. The shooter went back to his truck for his gun, then opened fire, went through a clip, reloaded, then began firing again. Family did what they could to contain the situation and subdue the shooter. Smiley lost his life, while Dice was injured to the point of paralysis. The shooter was also placed in critical condition, having been stabbed multiple times, castrated, and being nearly beaten to death. The mamas came in last minute, claiming he needed to live with what he'd done.
All this, the night after some Front Gaters sought to beat an attendee named Dale for false accusations of him beating his woman. What really happened was a verbal argument between Dale and his woman that a Front Gater stepped in on and picked a fight with Dale over. Dale won, and the Front Gater got his friends. Being afraid for his life, Dale hid while the search party sought him out. I found an elder to call an emergency council, but first Dale had to be brought back to the elder's camp for sanctuary. That elder was Greywolf. I went on a reconnaissance mission to sneak Dale into Greywolf's camp, where he was sheltered until council decided he could leave the woods without confrontation, but he had to leave immediately. His woman went with him, though she was not made to.
Healing council the morning after the shooting, a picture of Dale and Smiley was passed around a circle. The person who had died, and the person that would have likely died had I not stepped in the night before the shooting. It was kind of a surreal moment for me to see the picture.
Law enforcement had set up roadblocks to keep gatherers in and newcomers out while they searched for the murder weapon they had already secured after responding to the shooting, but subsequently lost. Their claim was that all they wanted was the gun, and if it was not turned over in a set amount of time, then a judge was going to sign a blanket search warrant for all gatherers. The whole forest had its mission for the day, with everyone wanting to just find the gun and turn it over to the authorities.
When the deadline to turn the gun over had almost past, the law enforcement officials claimed they found the gun and left. The next day, they came back, claimed it wasn't the gun, and demanded all gatherers be out withing 36 hours, setting into motion a frenzied tear-down of camps that left much cleanup to still be done by the time everyone had evacuated. I acquired a tarp and rope that had been left behind during the mess, and a group that provided family with necessary gear gave me a new tent.
Since everyone was fleeing the gathering so early, there was not much time for me to figure out my ride situation and where I'd be going now. Nano and Mama Frea from the Hookah Lounge had split up, and rides for the Hookah Lounge's staff became uncertain as the van belonged to Mama Frea. Mama Frea gave me permission to accompany her into Alabama, so I left with a caravan of three vehicles - Mama Frea's van, a car with Wolfpack 13, and the RV transporting Brand X Kitchen.
(next chapter)
There weren't many people at holding camp when I arrived, as most people were still in transition from the Ocala gathering. The only camp I remember being set up was Wolfpack 13, though there were a few others.
When we pulled into the campground, I rolled down the window and shouted out the window, "Are we home?"
One of the members of Wolfpack answered, "Are you home? Yes, you're home. Welcome home!"
The man who gave me a ride and I set up camp just off the road, where a fire-pit was already in existence. I kept a stock of wood for fires at night, and making breakfast and coffee in the morning. My ride left after only a few days to go pick up his woman, leaving me with plenty of supplies to feast on. I donated something around half of it to the Stockpot Kitchen, which had become my favorite at Ocala for its very welcoming atmosphere.
An overdose happened very early on at holding camp after a family member consumed a bunch of Benadryl capsules to achieve a high and ended up in the hospital. An emergency council was called to decide on how to act, and one of the members of the family that had not intervened was saved from excommunication for inaction due to a vote that determined that, while sad, the party that had overdosed was an adult - just barely - acting on his own free will. He survived, by the way.
The lake we were gathered beside had been ravaged by Florida State University students that would often come to party, leaving a gigantic mess of nails, broken glass, and other items of trash strewn all around, but focused on the beach. You could shift through the sand for hours in the same place and still be picking up trash. Starting with a girl named Katie, her boyfriend Bo, and myself, we began picking up the mess. The first day was just us, but after that we had an entire group. All we had to do was clean. Other members of the family would satellite us food, drinks, and anything else we might need. I began sorting through the broken glass for pieces to turn into jewelry to reduce the amount being tossed. It wasn't enough. Even with a whole, dedicated group that spent most of their days picking up garbage, there was still trash to be gathered when we left to the actual gathering.
The Forest Service officials that interacted with family were grateful for the effort, giving us a great permit for the Apalachicola gathering, including an extension for cleanup if needed.
I joined up with the Hookah Lounge as a barista at seed camp. I spent almost all of my time there when I wasn't cleaning to keep myself caffeinated and in good company, anyway, so I figured I could learn how to make their (s)expresso (espresso with sweet and condensed milk) and take shifts as barista/host. I traveled with the Hookah Lounge to the Apalachicola seed camp from holding camp
Overall, Apalachicola was a more relaxed gathering than Ocala, with very minimal interference from law enforcement. Well, until the shooting happened.
Towards the end of seed camp, a group of projects kids were engaging in their tradition of burning a tire. The shooter thought he'd record it with his camera, but one of the gatherers took his camera and smashed it. The shooter went back to his truck for his gun, then opened fire, went through a clip, reloaded, then began firing again. Family did what they could to contain the situation and subdue the shooter. Smiley lost his life, while Dice was injured to the point of paralysis. The shooter was also placed in critical condition, having been stabbed multiple times, castrated, and being nearly beaten to death. The mamas came in last minute, claiming he needed to live with what he'd done.
All this, the night after some Front Gaters sought to beat an attendee named Dale for false accusations of him beating his woman. What really happened was a verbal argument between Dale and his woman that a Front Gater stepped in on and picked a fight with Dale over. Dale won, and the Front Gater got his friends. Being afraid for his life, Dale hid while the search party sought him out. I found an elder to call an emergency council, but first Dale had to be brought back to the elder's camp for sanctuary. That elder was Greywolf. I went on a reconnaissance mission to sneak Dale into Greywolf's camp, where he was sheltered until council decided he could leave the woods without confrontation, but he had to leave immediately. His woman went with him, though she was not made to.
Healing council the morning after the shooting, a picture of Dale and Smiley was passed around a circle. The person who had died, and the person that would have likely died had I not stepped in the night before the shooting. It was kind of a surreal moment for me to see the picture.
Law enforcement had set up roadblocks to keep gatherers in and newcomers out while they searched for the murder weapon they had already secured after responding to the shooting, but subsequently lost. Their claim was that all they wanted was the gun, and if it was not turned over in a set amount of time, then a judge was going to sign a blanket search warrant for all gatherers. The whole forest had its mission for the day, with everyone wanting to just find the gun and turn it over to the authorities.
When the deadline to turn the gun over had almost past, the law enforcement officials claimed they found the gun and left. The next day, they came back, claimed it wasn't the gun, and demanded all gatherers be out withing 36 hours, setting into motion a frenzied tear-down of camps that left much cleanup to still be done by the time everyone had evacuated. I acquired a tarp and rope that had been left behind during the mess, and a group that provided family with necessary gear gave me a new tent.
Since everyone was fleeing the gathering so early, there was not much time for me to figure out my ride situation and where I'd be going now. Nano and Mama Frea from the Hookah Lounge had split up, and rides for the Hookah Lounge's staff became uncertain as the van belonged to Mama Frea. Mama Frea gave me permission to accompany her into Alabama, so I left with a caravan of three vehicles - Mama Frea's van, a car with Wolfpack 13, and the RV transporting Brand X Kitchen.
(next chapter)
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
What A Ride: Ocala
(previous chapter)
The four of us set off from our roadside camp in the morning, ready to reach the gathering. After awhile spent walking, a local picked us up and gave us the last ride before we were really in the woods.
It was still holding camp when we got there, meaning there weren't many people, kitchens, or other precious resources - like water buffaloes - on site yet. I wasn't really sure what to do or where to camp when I first got there. People had set up all along the fireroad into the woods, but said most of the people were further ahead. I decided to set up at the point where the road made a right, but on the left-hand side. There had been a fire constructed in the bend in the road, and the early gatherers had made it the place to gather. Fire does that.
From what I knew of rainbow gatherings of the event, they were places of love and gifting, where money is meaningless, and everyone is expected to contribute how they can to help support the community. Kitchens serve free food, mamas and babies eat first, everyone listens to and respects the elders, and everyone is family.
I didn't really have much to offer when I got there, nor did I know how to contribute, really. I knew gathering firewood was always a priority, and stocks were still low and building, so I made that my job. I loved gathering wood and tending fires, and was really good at it. I spent much of my time on the main fire at the intersection of the roads, but contributed to kitchen and personal fires throughout the gathering as well, which gave me invitations to meals and caffeine.
Now, things get kinda blurry at this point.
I became friends with a man obsessed with tea, where I began spending my mornings - and much leisure time - drinking cups of tasty caffeine. I also met, and moved camp with for awhile, Happy Joe, who ended up joining the Bear Necessities kitchen. I also learned how to do wire wraps and started to acquire trades slowly. Trade circle started at the fire in the road, but moved into the woods when seed camp started. Forestry officials shut down the fire in the road sometime around then, anyway.
That fire had actually been a hotspot of activity before it got shut down for being in the road, as it was a central place to gather. During one day, a girl who was autistic, schizophrenic, and French-Canadian became the center-focus of a dispute between gatherers and law enforcement when she, in a state of delirium, made contact with an officer who had been trying to ticket people for their dogs not being on a leash. The officer suspected she was intoxicated, and began asking her questions to determine her state of mind. Because of the language barrier and her psychosis, she had difficulty answering. Before the whole thing was done, there were six law enforcement vehicles, a firetruck, an ambulance, and a helicopter on site for the tense confrontation. The "man" wanted to take her to a mental institution, she didn't want to go, the gathered family didn't want her to go. In the end, amid all the stress, she reached for someone's knife, saying she wanted to kill herself. There was no help for her, then, and it was only a matter of time to get her to go willingly.
The same fire was where forestry officials announced the gathering had exceeded the 75 people limit early, and without a signed permit - a result of the location being released prematurely. That made the gathering "illegal." We didn't get kicked out, but the forestry officials responded with heavy policing. Law enforcement at a gathering is split between the Sheriff department and the Forest Service. We had to deal with often four to six law enforcement vehicles in the woods at a time, rolling in early in the day, late at night, and whenever else they wanted, hanging around as long as they see fit. Also used to police the gathering, helicopters and drones could often be seen flying overhead, especially at trade circle and main circle. Apparently, Ocala is the largest regional Rainbow gathering, and it's where several law enforcement offices, including the Rainbow Task Force, conducts their training.
At some point, I became "Vibe Patrol, keeping the vibes up." That meant I was going around from one end of the gathering to the other, keeping people's vibes up. I usually just ate as I went into a kitchen to keep their vibes up when I was hungry, since I kept myself too busy patrolling a large gathering to really keep up on meals. I think that started the night after I got dosed on some MDMA. Later, being Vibe Patrol led to my other dosing - on LSD - as I walked into a kitchen holding a conversation about how amazing Albert Hofmann is!
After spending somewhere around a month in the woods, the Forest Service informed the gathering it was finally time to leave. I was gonna stay for cleanup, but the Forest Service wanted the names of everyone staying on a list, and they only wanted fifteen people. Rainbow is supposed to have 75 people allotted for cleanup, and they got the number fixed, but not until after most gatherers had already left.
I caught a ride straight from the Ocala gathering to the Apalachicola gathering's holding camp.
(next chapter)
The four of us set off from our roadside camp in the morning, ready to reach the gathering. After awhile spent walking, a local picked us up and gave us the last ride before we were really in the woods.
It was still holding camp when we got there, meaning there weren't many people, kitchens, or other precious resources - like water buffaloes - on site yet. I wasn't really sure what to do or where to camp when I first got there. People had set up all along the fireroad into the woods, but said most of the people were further ahead. I decided to set up at the point where the road made a right, but on the left-hand side. There had been a fire constructed in the bend in the road, and the early gatherers had made it the place to gather. Fire does that.
From what I knew of rainbow gatherings of the event, they were places of love and gifting, where money is meaningless, and everyone is expected to contribute how they can to help support the community. Kitchens serve free food, mamas and babies eat first, everyone listens to and respects the elders, and everyone is family.
I didn't really have much to offer when I got there, nor did I know how to contribute, really. I knew gathering firewood was always a priority, and stocks were still low and building, so I made that my job. I loved gathering wood and tending fires, and was really good at it. I spent much of my time on the main fire at the intersection of the roads, but contributed to kitchen and personal fires throughout the gathering as well, which gave me invitations to meals and caffeine.
Now, things get kinda blurry at this point.
I became friends with a man obsessed with tea, where I began spending my mornings - and much leisure time - drinking cups of tasty caffeine. I also met, and moved camp with for awhile, Happy Joe, who ended up joining the Bear Necessities kitchen. I also learned how to do wire wraps and started to acquire trades slowly. Trade circle started at the fire in the road, but moved into the woods when seed camp started. Forestry officials shut down the fire in the road sometime around then, anyway.
That fire had actually been a hotspot of activity before it got shut down for being in the road, as it was a central place to gather. During one day, a girl who was autistic, schizophrenic, and French-Canadian became the center-focus of a dispute between gatherers and law enforcement when she, in a state of delirium, made contact with an officer who had been trying to ticket people for their dogs not being on a leash. The officer suspected she was intoxicated, and began asking her questions to determine her state of mind. Because of the language barrier and her psychosis, she had difficulty answering. Before the whole thing was done, there were six law enforcement vehicles, a firetruck, an ambulance, and a helicopter on site for the tense confrontation. The "man" wanted to take her to a mental institution, she didn't want to go, the gathered family didn't want her to go. In the end, amid all the stress, she reached for someone's knife, saying she wanted to kill herself. There was no help for her, then, and it was only a matter of time to get her to go willingly.
The same fire was where forestry officials announced the gathering had exceeded the 75 people limit early, and without a signed permit - a result of the location being released prematurely. That made the gathering "illegal." We didn't get kicked out, but the forestry officials responded with heavy policing. Law enforcement at a gathering is split between the Sheriff department and the Forest Service. We had to deal with often four to six law enforcement vehicles in the woods at a time, rolling in early in the day, late at night, and whenever else they wanted, hanging around as long as they see fit. Also used to police the gathering, helicopters and drones could often be seen flying overhead, especially at trade circle and main circle. Apparently, Ocala is the largest regional Rainbow gathering, and it's where several law enforcement offices, including the Rainbow Task Force, conducts their training.
At some point, I became "Vibe Patrol, keeping the vibes up." That meant I was going around from one end of the gathering to the other, keeping people's vibes up. I usually just ate as I went into a kitchen to keep their vibes up when I was hungry, since I kept myself too busy patrolling a large gathering to really keep up on meals. I think that started the night after I got dosed on some MDMA. Later, being Vibe Patrol led to my other dosing - on LSD - as I walked into a kitchen holding a conversation about how amazing Albert Hofmann is!
After spending somewhere around a month in the woods, the Forest Service informed the gathering it was finally time to leave. I was gonna stay for cleanup, but the Forest Service wanted the names of everyone staying on a list, and they only wanted fifteen people. Rainbow is supposed to have 75 people allotted for cleanup, and they got the number fixed, but not until after most gatherers had already left.
I caught a ride straight from the Ocala gathering to the Apalachicola gathering's holding camp.
(next chapter)
Monday, September 7, 2015
What A Ride: To Ocala Part 2
(previous chapter)
Once we were off the train, we had to climb up a hill to get back on the road. A pair of motorcycle cops stopped us almost immediately.
"Just get off the train?" As it turned out, one of the cops used to work in a city with a big train yard and would have to respond to pick up train kids that the railroad cops, known as bulls, had caught. He was pretty cool with us, though. The cops complemented us on our gear and choice of lifestyle, saying that we were, "just living." They gave us directions and sent us on our way.
We split the group up a bit as we set off walking, hoping we'd get picked up sooner if there weren't five of us together. That didn't really make much of a difference, unfortunately, and we all met back up at a gas station after getting some food. The two train kids and I ate at the gas station, while Virgo and Gypsy got some Subway that had been on the way. The two kids were out back in a field behind the gas station when Virgo and Gypsy caught up with us.
While we were waiting for the kids to finish their drink, Gypsy got more directions to a Flying J truck stop that we'd gone in the opposite direction of. The two train kids decided to go the direction we'd been hiking in, staying in Birmingham to make some money and hit the bars. Since the group was no longer so large, Virgo, Gypsy, and I decided to stick together and head towards the Flying J. Once we were going in that way in a smaller group, we managed to get a ride to the truck stop.
The Flying J had a Subway that we spent the rest of the day hanging out at, as the weather was starting to shape up into rain. Gypsy and I scouted out some woods across from the truck stop for camp that night. When we found a site, we went back for our gear and set up my tent, covered by their tarp, to protect us all from the rain.
The next day was nothing but rain. We considered staying back at camp all day, but tore down and went back to the truck stop instead. We spent the last of our money there on breakfast, then hung out in the same corner we'd occupied the day before. Not actually bothering anyone, a manager eventually came up to us and told us we had to leave because we weren't spending enough money and we'd hung out all day the day before. We tried to plead we be allowed to stay at least until the weather let up, but this woman would hear none of it.
We stood out in the rain, using tarps to protect our gear from getting too wet while we waited on a ride to pick us up. A veteran on his way to Texas was the first car to stop and fit us in. Our ride split what money he had on him with the three of us, since we had spent the last of what we had at the truck stop. We'd be taking I-59 south to Louisiana, at which point he'd join with I-10 to go west. Since we had already gone so far west already, and since the ride was continuing west, Virgo and Gypsy decided to stay with the ride and go visit a friend of theirs in New Mexico. I got out in Sidell, LA, still on my way to Ocala.
It was already night when I set out on my own. I started to look for a good place to set up camp, but I was in the middle of a city without many wooded areas to conceal me, and everything was wet. I encountered a man dropping a bag of trash in a dumpster and asked him about homeless shelters in the area. He let me use his phone to look up and call around until I finally found a place to put me up for the night, Trumpet of Truth Ministries, then he gave me a ride there.
Trumpet of Truth was almost completely black, with only one other white person at the time. They let me take a shower, eat, and stay on the couch for the night, trying to convince me to stay longer and get a job in the area. I insisted that I was on my own personal mission to reach the Ocala gathering.
I hit I-10 again in the morning, catching a ride rather quick from a man who had spent the night in town on his way back to Florida, from Texas. Apparently, he makes the trip to pick up a bunch of weed - ten pounds to be exact. We went cruising down the interstate smoking down, talking about the legal system and how rights work. He's the kind of person who buys bulk quantities of the Constitution to pass out to people for free. I've still got the one he gave me. He had plenty of books on law in the car, too. It was quite the enlightening ride.
He took me as far as De Funiak Springs, FL, dropping me off at the McDonald's with $23, a dime bag, and all the roaches from the joints we'd smoked on the ride. I ate at the McDonald's, but could hear people commenting on my weed smell in there so decided to not go stand at the on-ramp, which was in view of the restaurant, and instead began walking HW-331 south.
An older couple picked me up, informing me I didn't want to go in the direction I was headed being homeless, as the area I was going towards had cops that'd try to arrest me for it. They took me back to De Funiak Springs, where I finally went ahead and hit the interstate on-ramp. A ride didn't come. I stood there all of the rest of the day. The hitchhiker I was supposed to meet up with in Richmond Hill informed me of a good place to camp behind the Walmart in town, which is where I slept for the night.
The next day was shaping up to be just as unproductive at the on-ramp. Eventually, I decided to just walk HW-90, which runs parallel with I-10. HW-90 is a lot of nothing back road. After walking for a couple hours, I got my first ride past a blink-and-you-miss-it town called Ponce De Leon by a father and his son. From there, I walked for another few hours until I had worn myself down to the point of limping from all the weight on my back I had carried all this way without rest.
That's when I got picked up by a rapist. I was eager to get in the white pickup truck when it pulled over and the man inside told me to, "Throw your stuff in the back and get in."
All the trash in the back and in the cab had set off a red flag, but I figured he was just a hoarder, which isn't that bad. He was heavyset, with a big, black cross around his neck. He also kept shifting his right hand between the steering wheel, and a box that sat between us. The box was half-locked; the switch nearest me was undone, while the switch nearest him was still clasped. I had the sinking feeling that the box had a gun inside it, and his hand kept going between the wheel and the box the whole ride.
I started off by telling him why I was on this empty road in the first place, where I was from, where I was going, and what all I'd been through so far. When I finished my story, the first word out of his mouth were, "So how do you feel about a boy raping a girl?"
I didn't know how to respond, "Uh, that's bad, and he should go to jail."
"Okay, so how do you feel about a boy raping three girls?"
I couldn't believe the situation I had gotten myself in. I had some pepper spray, but if he had a gun I might end up dead if I said or did the wrong thing. I didn't want to ask him to just let me out on the side of the road for fear he'd shoot me with no one around and just leave. So I rode along, dealing with questions about castration and insisting that I didn't want to be adopted into a "manly family" - whatever that meant. Eventually, I saw a McDonald's up ahead and requested he let me out there, as I was hungry and wanted a burger. He tried to convince me to let him take me another four miles. I insisted I wanted out at McDonald's, ready to use the pepper spray if he didn't stop. He did stop, but on the other side of the road from the McDonald's and threw a fit about me leaving. I got out, got my pack, and didn't look back, glad the ride was over.
A man at the McDonald's who was biking across the country bought me a burger and listened to my story of the ride I had just escaped, but night was approaching fast and I needed somewhere safe to set up camp for the night.
It was already dark by the time I encountered a group of five dirty kids and four dogs spanging outside of some business towards the other end of town. Once I got there, we went over a hill across the road from us where they had intended to camp for the night and stayed with them and got them high. The next morning, I got them high again and gave them a bunch of food and other supplies I felt I could spare, before hitting I-10 again.
I caught a ride rather quickly, making it to the first Tallahassee exit. From there, I caught a ride to the last exit in Tallahassee. Then, I got a ride to another town between Tallahassee and I-75. It had already been such a wonderful day for rides that I could have easily been satisfied after my last couple days, but I figured I'd keep flying a sign a little bit longer and maybe get lucky enough to catch one more ride to I-75 before the day was over. If it didn't happen, I was already eyeing some woods across the road where I could stay the night.
As luck would have it, a former hitchhiker-turned truck driver was hungry and stopped at my exit's McDonald's, even though he never eats there, because he only had a couple dollars on him and that's where his sons in college always ate when they only had a couple dollars.
He asked where I was going, to which I responded, "Ocala."
"No shit, you're in luck. I'm going straight through there."
Turns out, he was on his way back from shipping a load in his box truck. He used to hitchhike, then became a trucker, and was now an independent. He also used to hang out at Rainbow gatherings in Ocala, and his girlfriend had friends who still did. When he learned that the gathering was my destination, he decided he'd help me get as close as he could. After all, it would be late by the time we made it to Ocala and he was coming off running his rig, and his girlfriend was waiting on him - which he was going to see because taking me towards the gathering would take him closer towards her than his home, so it was a win for both of us.
His girlfriend got her friend to get us some directions to the gathering, but it was late and we were having a hard time finding it. We decided I'd just go back to town and try to find a ride the next day, but as we came back to a four-way intersection, I noticed a fire had been lit where there wasn't one before.
We pulled over to investigate, and I shouted out at the campers, "You guys Rainbows?"
"Um, yeah, sorta," two of the group were also on there way to their first gathering, the other one was a long-time front gater named Mouse.
I thanked the trucker and we parted ways. After the ride the day before, I was finally just outside of the gathering - my destination. I felt like it had been gifting the dirty kids earlier that morning that gave me the karmic boost I needed.
Anyways, we weren't to the gathering yet. That journey would come in the morning. Some locals kept going by and had been upset we had a fire on the side of the road. Forestry officials came over to investigate, but they told us we were okay because we were in the national forest, and the fire was about survival. They did have to run our names though. Most of us came back clean, but Mouse came back with an escapee charge that was non-extraditable - so he was still good to go. Before the officers left, Mouse got it in his mind that he he was gonna tell them a joke. We tried to talk him out of it, as he approached the officers at their cars, drunk. The officers said it was okay, they'd listen to the joke - and they loved it. Mouse got them to laugh hard at a couple jokes, then they left us alone.
(next chapter)
Once we were off the train, we had to climb up a hill to get back on the road. A pair of motorcycle cops stopped us almost immediately.
"Just get off the train?" As it turned out, one of the cops used to work in a city with a big train yard and would have to respond to pick up train kids that the railroad cops, known as bulls, had caught. He was pretty cool with us, though. The cops complemented us on our gear and choice of lifestyle, saying that we were, "just living." They gave us directions and sent us on our way.
We split the group up a bit as we set off walking, hoping we'd get picked up sooner if there weren't five of us together. That didn't really make much of a difference, unfortunately, and we all met back up at a gas station after getting some food. The two train kids and I ate at the gas station, while Virgo and Gypsy got some Subway that had been on the way. The two kids were out back in a field behind the gas station when Virgo and Gypsy caught up with us.
While we were waiting for the kids to finish their drink, Gypsy got more directions to a Flying J truck stop that we'd gone in the opposite direction of. The two train kids decided to go the direction we'd been hiking in, staying in Birmingham to make some money and hit the bars. Since the group was no longer so large, Virgo, Gypsy, and I decided to stick together and head towards the Flying J. Once we were going in that way in a smaller group, we managed to get a ride to the truck stop.
The Flying J had a Subway that we spent the rest of the day hanging out at, as the weather was starting to shape up into rain. Gypsy and I scouted out some woods across from the truck stop for camp that night. When we found a site, we went back for our gear and set up my tent, covered by their tarp, to protect us all from the rain.
The next day was nothing but rain. We considered staying back at camp all day, but tore down and went back to the truck stop instead. We spent the last of our money there on breakfast, then hung out in the same corner we'd occupied the day before. Not actually bothering anyone, a manager eventually came up to us and told us we had to leave because we weren't spending enough money and we'd hung out all day the day before. We tried to plead we be allowed to stay at least until the weather let up, but this woman would hear none of it.
We stood out in the rain, using tarps to protect our gear from getting too wet while we waited on a ride to pick us up. A veteran on his way to Texas was the first car to stop and fit us in. Our ride split what money he had on him with the three of us, since we had spent the last of what we had at the truck stop. We'd be taking I-59 south to Louisiana, at which point he'd join with I-10 to go west. Since we had already gone so far west already, and since the ride was continuing west, Virgo and Gypsy decided to stay with the ride and go visit a friend of theirs in New Mexico. I got out in Sidell, LA, still on my way to Ocala.
It was already night when I set out on my own. I started to look for a good place to set up camp, but I was in the middle of a city without many wooded areas to conceal me, and everything was wet. I encountered a man dropping a bag of trash in a dumpster and asked him about homeless shelters in the area. He let me use his phone to look up and call around until I finally found a place to put me up for the night, Trumpet of Truth Ministries, then he gave me a ride there.
Trumpet of Truth was almost completely black, with only one other white person at the time. They let me take a shower, eat, and stay on the couch for the night, trying to convince me to stay longer and get a job in the area. I insisted that I was on my own personal mission to reach the Ocala gathering.
I hit I-10 again in the morning, catching a ride rather quick from a man who had spent the night in town on his way back to Florida, from Texas. Apparently, he makes the trip to pick up a bunch of weed - ten pounds to be exact. We went cruising down the interstate smoking down, talking about the legal system and how rights work. He's the kind of person who buys bulk quantities of the Constitution to pass out to people for free. I've still got the one he gave me. He had plenty of books on law in the car, too. It was quite the enlightening ride.
He took me as far as De Funiak Springs, FL, dropping me off at the McDonald's with $23, a dime bag, and all the roaches from the joints we'd smoked on the ride. I ate at the McDonald's, but could hear people commenting on my weed smell in there so decided to not go stand at the on-ramp, which was in view of the restaurant, and instead began walking HW-331 south.
An older couple picked me up, informing me I didn't want to go in the direction I was headed being homeless, as the area I was going towards had cops that'd try to arrest me for it. They took me back to De Funiak Springs, where I finally went ahead and hit the interstate on-ramp. A ride didn't come. I stood there all of the rest of the day. The hitchhiker I was supposed to meet up with in Richmond Hill informed me of a good place to camp behind the Walmart in town, which is where I slept for the night.
The next day was shaping up to be just as unproductive at the on-ramp. Eventually, I decided to just walk HW-90, which runs parallel with I-10. HW-90 is a lot of nothing back road. After walking for a couple hours, I got my first ride past a blink-and-you-miss-it town called Ponce De Leon by a father and his son. From there, I walked for another few hours until I had worn myself down to the point of limping from all the weight on my back I had carried all this way without rest.
That's when I got picked up by a rapist. I was eager to get in the white pickup truck when it pulled over and the man inside told me to, "Throw your stuff in the back and get in."
All the trash in the back and in the cab had set off a red flag, but I figured he was just a hoarder, which isn't that bad. He was heavyset, with a big, black cross around his neck. He also kept shifting his right hand between the steering wheel, and a box that sat between us. The box was half-locked; the switch nearest me was undone, while the switch nearest him was still clasped. I had the sinking feeling that the box had a gun inside it, and his hand kept going between the wheel and the box the whole ride.
I started off by telling him why I was on this empty road in the first place, where I was from, where I was going, and what all I'd been through so far. When I finished my story, the first word out of his mouth were, "So how do you feel about a boy raping a girl?"
I didn't know how to respond, "Uh, that's bad, and he should go to jail."
"Okay, so how do you feel about a boy raping three girls?"
I couldn't believe the situation I had gotten myself in. I had some pepper spray, but if he had a gun I might end up dead if I said or did the wrong thing. I didn't want to ask him to just let me out on the side of the road for fear he'd shoot me with no one around and just leave. So I rode along, dealing with questions about castration and insisting that I didn't want to be adopted into a "manly family" - whatever that meant. Eventually, I saw a McDonald's up ahead and requested he let me out there, as I was hungry and wanted a burger. He tried to convince me to let him take me another four miles. I insisted I wanted out at McDonald's, ready to use the pepper spray if he didn't stop. He did stop, but on the other side of the road from the McDonald's and threw a fit about me leaving. I got out, got my pack, and didn't look back, glad the ride was over.
A man at the McDonald's who was biking across the country bought me a burger and listened to my story of the ride I had just escaped, but night was approaching fast and I needed somewhere safe to set up camp for the night.
It was already dark by the time I encountered a group of five dirty kids and four dogs spanging outside of some business towards the other end of town. Once I got there, we went over a hill across the road from us where they had intended to camp for the night and stayed with them and got them high. The next morning, I got them high again and gave them a bunch of food and other supplies I felt I could spare, before hitting I-10 again.
I caught a ride rather quickly, making it to the first Tallahassee exit. From there, I caught a ride to the last exit in Tallahassee. Then, I got a ride to another town between Tallahassee and I-75. It had already been such a wonderful day for rides that I could have easily been satisfied after my last couple days, but I figured I'd keep flying a sign a little bit longer and maybe get lucky enough to catch one more ride to I-75 before the day was over. If it didn't happen, I was already eyeing some woods across the road where I could stay the night.
As luck would have it, a former hitchhiker-turned truck driver was hungry and stopped at my exit's McDonald's, even though he never eats there, because he only had a couple dollars on him and that's where his sons in college always ate when they only had a couple dollars.
He asked where I was going, to which I responded, "Ocala."
"No shit, you're in luck. I'm going straight through there."
Turns out, he was on his way back from shipping a load in his box truck. He used to hitchhike, then became a trucker, and was now an independent. He also used to hang out at Rainbow gatherings in Ocala, and his girlfriend had friends who still did. When he learned that the gathering was my destination, he decided he'd help me get as close as he could. After all, it would be late by the time we made it to Ocala and he was coming off running his rig, and his girlfriend was waiting on him - which he was going to see because taking me towards the gathering would take him closer towards her than his home, so it was a win for both of us.
His girlfriend got her friend to get us some directions to the gathering, but it was late and we were having a hard time finding it. We decided I'd just go back to town and try to find a ride the next day, but as we came back to a four-way intersection, I noticed a fire had been lit where there wasn't one before.
We pulled over to investigate, and I shouted out at the campers, "You guys Rainbows?"
"Um, yeah, sorta," two of the group were also on there way to their first gathering, the other one was a long-time front gater named Mouse.
I thanked the trucker and we parted ways. After the ride the day before, I was finally just outside of the gathering - my destination. I felt like it had been gifting the dirty kids earlier that morning that gave me the karmic boost I needed.
Anyways, we weren't to the gathering yet. That journey would come in the morning. Some locals kept going by and had been upset we had a fire on the side of the road. Forestry officials came over to investigate, but they told us we were okay because we were in the national forest, and the fire was about survival. They did have to run our names though. Most of us came back clean, but Mouse came back with an escapee charge that was non-extraditable - so he was still good to go. Before the officers left, Mouse got it in his mind that he he was gonna tell them a joke. We tried to talk him out of it, as he approached the officers at their cars, drunk. The officers said it was okay, they'd listen to the joke - and they loved it. Mouse got them to laugh hard at a couple jokes, then they left us alone.
(next chapter)
Saturday, September 5, 2015
What A Ride: As Winter Approached
(previous chapter)
At first, I loved having so much acid around. I wasn't always on it, but it was always on me, so the option was always there. I was living life how I wanted to at the time, high and in the woods.
But it wasn't sustainable.
I often needed help from friends and family to keep myself fed. When I did have money, the food I bought was mostly dry and ready to eat from the packaging; lots of peanut butter, granola, and pop tarts. My diet wasn't healthy at all, and barely kept me full.
As the weather got colder and wetter, I began relying on friends and family more for shelter, too, making me feel like a useless burden at times. Whenever I needed to shower, shave, wash clothes, or even prepare some of my meals, I needed to find a house I was allowed to do those things in.
I fell into a depression, at which point I stopped being able to hold onto acid without doing it. Between my own acid, and the acid of the friend I was effectively living with, I started to trip at least three times a week, though most weeks that number was more like five or six times. That went on for a few months as the weather got colder and colder.
I didn't sleep much during that period. Almost every night was a party that I attended for the sake of having somewhere to be for the night. I'd end up on acid, go all night, then run on coffee the next morning because I couldn't sleep once the sun was up. The triple-loaded cocktail of THC, LSD, and caffeine kept me functioning, but left me stressed and mentally exhausted.
It was only a matter of time before I started to experience health issues. Everything from trench foot to dental problems tore at my body, while the lower-left area of my stomach region would sometimes spaz out and get hard for a reason I still don't know the origin of. Maybe it was my diet. Maybe it was the acid. Maybe it was both. I began to lose faith in my life and accept that I would probably die young, if I even made it through winter. Something had to change. I had to leave the situation I had trapped myself in, but I was also afraid of leaving. That would mean facing the unknown far from home when my body felt like it was falling apart. But still, I knew I had to go.
My family is pretty big on Ohio State, so with the run they were having I decided to stay around long enough to watch them win the first ever College Football Playoff. Then, I set out for my first Rainbow gathering in Ocala.
(next chapter)
At first, I loved having so much acid around. I wasn't always on it, but it was always on me, so the option was always there. I was living life how I wanted to at the time, high and in the woods.
But it wasn't sustainable.
I often needed help from friends and family to keep myself fed. When I did have money, the food I bought was mostly dry and ready to eat from the packaging; lots of peanut butter, granola, and pop tarts. My diet wasn't healthy at all, and barely kept me full.
As the weather got colder and wetter, I began relying on friends and family more for shelter, too, making me feel like a useless burden at times. Whenever I needed to shower, shave, wash clothes, or even prepare some of my meals, I needed to find a house I was allowed to do those things in.
I fell into a depression, at which point I stopped being able to hold onto acid without doing it. Between my own acid, and the acid of the friend I was effectively living with, I started to trip at least three times a week, though most weeks that number was more like five or six times. That went on for a few months as the weather got colder and colder.
I didn't sleep much during that period. Almost every night was a party that I attended for the sake of having somewhere to be for the night. I'd end up on acid, go all night, then run on coffee the next morning because I couldn't sleep once the sun was up. The triple-loaded cocktail of THC, LSD, and caffeine kept me functioning, but left me stressed and mentally exhausted.
It was only a matter of time before I started to experience health issues. Everything from trench foot to dental problems tore at my body, while the lower-left area of my stomach region would sometimes spaz out and get hard for a reason I still don't know the origin of. Maybe it was my diet. Maybe it was the acid. Maybe it was both. I began to lose faith in my life and accept that I would probably die young, if I even made it through winter. Something had to change. I had to leave the situation I had trapped myself in, but I was also afraid of leaving. That would mean facing the unknown far from home when my body felt like it was falling apart. But still, I knew I had to go.
My family is pretty big on Ohio State, so with the run they were having I decided to stay around long enough to watch them win the first ever College Football Playoff. Then, I set out for my first Rainbow gathering in Ocala.
(next chapter)
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