What A Ride: Alabama

(previous chapter)

When we showed up to Anniston, it was already dark and the party at Dw's was already going strong. Dw was an older Family member who was also Tea Time Family with Mr. Tea. He was plugged into the local music scene, and had live bands play his house nearly every other night.

I managed to get a seat on the couch, even among the crowded space, where a kitten promptly settled into my lap. After a long stretch with little smoke, the abundance in Anniston was a welcome relief that the whole caravan had been waiting on. At one point, I passed out on the couch with my boots still on, prompting those gathered to draw on my face with a sharpie, which woke me back up.

The next morning, you could tell the place had played host to a party. Enter us. The deal in Anniston was: we got to stay at Dw's while as, basically, holding camp for the Talladega gathering, take showers, do laundry, eat very well, and never have to worry about smoke; in exchange for basic work, like keeping the place clean, handling the wood work for the fires, and of course helping prepare the meals. 

After a week at Dw's, Mama Frea and Mr. Tea took a group of us to another of Mr. Tea's friends, who lived just outside of Tuscaloosa, for a mission flying signs for money for food to bring to the gathering. I also needed new socks, athletes foot medicine, and some money for food on my journey back to Ohio. We spent the weekend there, flying signs on Friday and Saturday. We weren't the only Family in the area, either. The Fat Kids Kitchen bus was also on a spange mission. 

On Saturday night, I also went out to some bars in Tuscaloosa with a member of our group that had tried busking there the night before. I laid out my trade blanket, which contained mostly wire wraps made out of the glass I had picked up in Florida. Drunk college kids are easily swayed to look at shiny things. It was rainy that night, and we had walked in the rain to get there, but we sat underneath an overhang that protected us from most of the weather that night.

When the bars closed, one of the people that had given me a kick down offered the guy I was with and I to ride back to Mr. Tea's friend with him. The guy I was with declined, wanting to spend the rest of the night in town and try to make more money. I went ahead and accepted the ride, though I probably would have been better off walking. He was swerving all over the road and neither of us really knew where we were going, so we never made it to where I was going. He offered me to go back to his place and he would run me back the next morning. I wasn't ready to stay in a vehicle drifting all over the road, so I talked him into letting me out at a gas station. 

A cop pulled up to the gas station just as I got out, so I walked up to the officer and asked him if he could tell me where a food mart near where we were staying was. Turned out there were two of them. I asked if he could take me, but he said he didn't have the authorization to put me in the vehicle. I tried to find the food mart with his directions and my memory, but only ended up lost. Eventually, I spotted a paramedic ambulance headquarters and decided to ask for more directions there. One of the details of my memory, crossing a railroad, led to me finally getting some directions that led me back to Mr. Tea's friend's house.

After the weekend, we made it back to Dw's, where we stayed another couple weeks. I would be leaving for Ohio soon to watch some friends get married on April 17th, but the weather was still warming up so I thought I'd wait it out long enough to catch a free Blues Traveler show in Anniston on March 27th. I left the day after the show, catching a ride to Union, Alabama with some people who had also been staying at Dw's. Brand X Kitchen and Mama Frea had already had their own falling outs with the group, Brand X leaving first. 

After flying a sign on the on-ramp to hitch out, a cop pulled over to inform me that flying signs, regardless purpose, was against city ordinance. Luckily, he was a friendly officer that offered me a ride out of his jurisdiction after a quick weapon pat down. I got a sticker from him too, which I put on my pack until it fell off. 

I had to stay the night where the officer had let me out, but the next morning I caught a ride through Atlanta, Georgia with a trucker. To be honest, I can't remember where he dropped me off, but it was somewhere in Georgia on I-85. I was on my way back home.

(next chapter)

What A Ride: The Caravan

(previous chapter)

The RV in our caravan was having some issues and needed a new part. In addition, having had to flee the gathering in such a hurry, we wanted some extra time to catch our barrings. We pulled into a pay-to-camp campground that was outside of area now being investigated, but still inside the Apalachicola National Forest. Paid in full for our campsites for the night, the Forest Service showed up at our location and demanded we be out by 9 am, when we were paid for through to noon. We agreed, though, and they left us in peace for the most part the rest of the night.

The campground had limited showers, so some of our large group were able to get showers at this point. I had been incubating an illness acquired, I assume, from the shared cup of espresso that passed around a circle at the Hookah Lounge; pretty much everyone there had gotten sick. I contacted my grandma and asked her to wire me a little bit of money for medicine, food, and a contribution of gas for the caravan.

One of the elders, we'll call him Mr. Tea, was having an argument with one of his crew, Goose. Mr. Tea wanted Goose to gather firewood so a meal could be prepared for that night. Goose was complaining he had hemorrhoids that were acting up, indicating instead that I should do it. Mr. Tea asked if I would help gather some wood, and I said that I would, but not if Goose was also not gathering wood as I was also sick. Mr. Tea said that was fair and we were both put to work.

While gathering wood, I caught a whiff of potent marijuana coming from a camper/RV and determined I'd stop back there when I was done. I did, and the elderly couple there turned out to be involved in the family. They had made us all peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, which I helped satellite to our dispersed group since I was already talking to the couple. I mentioned that I had caught a whiff of cannabis when walking by their camp earlier. The man told me I probably did, as his wife was making cookies. I offered to trade him for a little bud, but he refused, promising that I would get one of the cookies.

I did get one of the cookies, and it was incredibly potent. Actually scared me a bit because, between my illness, which had almost closed off my throat that night, and the strength of the cookie, I believed for awhile that I had been dosed with mushrooms too.

Thanks to Brand X Kitchen, we had a great meal that night.

The next morning, the Forest Service showed up at 8 am and asked if we could be out in 15 minutes, when they had promised us 9 am the day before. We said that was unrealistic, and settled on 45 minutes as an agreement. It took us a little over 30. The Forest Service followed us all the way out of the woods and down the main road, until we had passed the sign that said we had left the Apalachicola National Forest.

The RV was still having trouble, however, and we weren't ready to leave on too long of a distance journey just yet. We stopped at a Walmart in Florida and the head of Brand X got permission from the Walmart to stay in the parking lot while we got the RV repaired. However, we couldn't go inside the store, even to use the bathroom, unless we were buying something, and we had to stay off in the corner of the parking lot and not interfere with their customers. Most of us camped in the woods behind the Walmart, though I don't think the Walmart knew that. It kept us out of the parking lot during the day, too.

I took the time to get the moneygram from my grandma while at the Walmart, picking up some throat spray, cough drops, and a little food and snacks to pass out. What was left, I gave to Mama Frea.

The next morning, since we couldn't use the bathroom in Walmart, I did my morning constitutional in the nearby Burger King, deciding I may as well get my breakfast while I was there. Some nice, crazy old lady was telling her coworkers a story they weren't paying attention to, so she just continued her story to me from mid-sentence as if she had been talking to me the whole time. I noticed she was wearing some pins on her hat from work, and asked her if she'd trade me one that had a star on it and said Burger King, and she just gave it to me, telling me about a pair of patch pants she used to have with patches she'd get from naval men.

The head of Brand X found the part he needed for the RV, and someone to put it on, but it was still going to be a couple days until he would be available to do so. In the meantime, many of us had our beards, and some their heads, shaved. I just lost my beard. Also, a generous trucker with plenty of spare shower tickets got us all a shower.

A sheriff did come by each day to check on us, but mostly left us alone. We reassured him we were headed out of the state as soon as we were able.

Once we got going, we made our way into the Talladega National Forest in Alabama, where we set up camp for the night. Mama Frea told me to tear down early in the morning, though. The car was stolen and we were leaving the Wolfpack crew behind, cutting the caravan down to just the RV and the van.

From there, we made our way to Anniston.    

(next chapter)