OH…….OH how fortunate I am. I seem to have found myself traversing the northern continent by way of whimsy. Expansion of perspective is the name of the game by what ever means necessary as I walk, skip, dance and stagger  from one end to the other and back again.  During this period I hope to find a viable way of being with my guitar, backpack and self. We the transient trifecta  will all together seek a better understanding of both the land here and those who live on it. I will be writing about these adventures from time to time mostly for the sake of my own memory that I presume will one day fade away. However in the event that you like music, rambling, farming, hitch hiking and other hobo tales then please enjoy this set of short stories. A vague depiction from the best of my recollection…

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It was Tuesday night, the last of September and there I was sitting on the floor of my grandparents house. I sat surrounded or what seemed to be beneath a massive pile of gear. Beginning the process by which I would eventually sort and select a set of objects to use for the coming months, I was pleasantly distracted. The root of this distraction was found in appreciative thoughts. I felt blessed to have wonderful employers whom for whatever reason felt compelled to willingly let me wonder. I felt blessed to have friends and family who not only condoned but supported my endeavors. I felt blessed to be in a position where it was even possible for me to travel the country with the purpose of learning what ever I could for all intents and purposes. needles to say I was consequently looking forward with great anticipation. With the intention of creating and retaining positive experiences, here is the journal entry from my first days events.

A quick reflection on my first days advents : if for no other reason then to wallow in fading dreams of distant memories at a time far away from now…then so be it : A truly gorgeous day. A drive up 101 begins with verbal exchange between two friends quite connected. Is filled with with strawberries and punctuated with our arrival at a small commune called round mountain in Ukiah, just 100miles up the pacific coast from home : Oakland CA :. My self was found among very wonderful and well meaning elders building shade structures and trimming leaves in neither Knee high nor waste deep but rather towering pot forests. Being that I am from the San Francisco bay area : a place I consider to be a hub for progressive sub culture and many or rather any number other ( odd ) things : this was not surprising or unreal as much as it was simply appropriate, comforting, amusing and pleasant. After a a half days work we :Gabrielle, King, Maria, Mathew Ekiah and Kate all shared a meal in the communal space. With dinner both behind us and in our bellies King, and Gabrielle, Kate, Maria and I played songs while singing all together between stories tidbits and laughter.

so far …………sooooooooooooo good.      10/1/09

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yeah  it’s only been thirty days or so………..alright!……..  it would appear that I am not so disciplined when it comes to writing with any consistency. Nor for that matter do I feel like my writing skills and patience are sufficient enough to properly express what I’v been experiencing on this trip. Now, given the fact that I’v not been traveling all too long this may change, or at least I’d hope so. Yes and on that note I’ll log some more of my crude literary depictions.

I spent another day or so at round mountain working for I guy named Phil. Phil was a stout middle aged man with gray hair and bright eyes. He had what I would call the worn blue jean, plad flannel, rolled sleeve hard working look, which seemed to fit well with his brow that, in my head, always had a slightly stern expressions.  As he and I hopped in the truck, headed down towards Willits to work a small farmers market in town, I prodded and he intern told me a little about him self. He said he’d grown up in Ohio with the Idea that college was the path to a good life. Phil told me that with what he learned in school he ended up as a computer programmer during the Vietnam war. When he said this it was with a grave tone and raised eye brows. It became clear that the programming he had been doing was for some sort of advanced bombing where they would compute numbers in a hypothetical scenario and then give this data to the military for use on the battlefield. He said it was unreal programming for the government in Ohio right next to Antioch university, a school founded on the principles of rigorous liberal arts education, innovative experimental learning and socially engaged citizenship, where in the 60’s and 70’s there where massive and influential protests against the war. He said that as a young man he would pass by these happenings every day while he was on his way to work for what he knew was the exact antithesis. As time went on for him the dichotomy between the ethics of his core values and his programming in regards to education, society and income came to be intolerable and he couldn’t live the way he had been any longer. He said that to his credit the programming he did was never used and he felt very thankful to have changed his course before too long. At this point Phil turned to nature and found him self living in Colorado rock climbing. He said that his family had always grown food and from a very young age he was out in the dirt a lot. To me it seemed only appropriate then that after hitch hiking and bouncing around the country a bit he ended up living in northern California as a farmer where he said he’s been for decades now.

I loved his story however brief and abbreviated it may have been and expressed an appreciation for the much older and much slower way that I imagined farming to be. I felt that it must be satisfying work with a certain simple purity seldom found in our modern culture, the type of work that keeps you more connected to the planet and also bares a very gratifying reward. Phil and I spent the rest of the day working his both, selling tomatoes and egg plants peppers and melons all of which he’d grown. I have to say I was really pleased by the whole experience. Beneath the shade of massive Elm wood trees surrounding the park, on a  sunny day I observed and participated this delightful culture. People milled about with their family and friends exchanging food, conversation and laughter in a manner that again to me came off as much slower more simplistic and pure. The highlights for me aside from sun and trees were found in these things:

.Conversing with elders

. The socialist nature with which food was shared

.The music being played by two long haired laid back young guys

.The adorable 4 year old for whom I played the old Little John and Robin hood tune (on request)

. The gorgeous people every where

. A man named mike who had been living on what he called the coffee bus ( his bike ) riding up and down the wast coast for the pas 2 years, making money by selling hand carved wooden spoons, made from the wood on old sailing vessels.

( he gave me tips on biking across the country and sold me a spoon made from a fishing boat out of homer Alaska)  yay

. And last but certainly not least in my book, the absolutely amazing crane melon that Phil gave me!

A truly glorious day   11/?/09

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From this point I went up to see an old family friend by the name of Annie. Annie and I spent some very early years in life growing up together at around the age of two or three. We have been in and out of each others lives, on and off, ever since. She is subsequently one of those people who permeates even the faint glimpses of pre-adolescent memory. Side note: ( I always wanted an older sister, and Annie whom I consider an older cousin, is as close as I’m ever going to get, so along with the fact that shes an intelligent, well meaning, well traveled, truly amazing and lovely person I’m naturally always happy to see her ). In order to do so I had to get to a small Island off the coast of Humboldt bay called Samoa. I was set to hitch hike but was excited to find that I could catch a ride with King ( Gabrielle’s partner ).  I had spent a previous day working with king and an evening singing great old folk standards. I thought king was absolutely delightful and really rather liked the guy, and it just so happened, that he was going to see his son who lived a ways past Annie on 101. So the next morning we ate some Ganja food and were off like a heard of turtles. Side note: ( thank you auntie suz for the excellent figure of speech). It was yet again a sunny day in California ( shocking I know ) and king and I embarked on what was to be a most pleasant drive up the coast. Astonishingly beautiful redwoods seemingly perforated by celestial interstices of radiant light ( how I always seem to feel about the forests in the northwest region of the golden state ). This scenic ride, though mesmerizing and aesthetic enough to hush a couple of stoned guys for awhile,also held space for good conversation. We told one another a little about our lives and covered some of the basics. king told me a lot about his father. His father he depicted as someone who had one of those crystal clear memories even towards the end, A man who had not only lived, what I understood to be, a great American life ( so to speak ) but could really speak to it in the most vivid of ways. We also spent some time commiserating about our own memory ( or lack there of ). King also gave me great advice about effective hitch hiking methods and told me about some of the history in the north west. King told about some ways in which the area had changed, about redwood summer and activist singer song writer Judy Bari.( check it out for your self! to use the vernacular, some crazy shit yo ). Then as we smoked another joint the conversation turned towards socialism and Communism ( always a provocative topic ) and so we ran the gamut on the subject. I was told to read several books or as King put it I was indoctrinated. Some of these books I had heard of but his must read list was a reaffirming reminder of some of the material out there.

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I am of the opinion that it was grandiose car ride, granted I’m easy to please. Beautiful trees, good company, good pot, good thought in the lot, with a fair amount of advice from an elder who had traveled as I was ( hitch hiking ) and had good taste in literature ( as far as I was concerned ). king had many an interesting thing to say and so it was that I sat with many an interesting thing to hear ( and such is the way of the world it seems, indulge me just for a minute, stop. and ponder the peripheral sounds you may hear in this moment..shshshsh ……………………haahhh..oh what ?? sorry. The main point being that for myself someone who loves to listen when calm enough to really do so, our ride was enjoyable. Any how, as high as king and I were, we managed to get our selves slightly lost, quite efficiently I might add!, rather unfortunate though,…It being the case and all,…that was not the name of the game we were playing. Having had some rather one sided dialogue with the piece of paper on which Gabrielle had written somewhat vague directions, ( big turn?…. well alright that was kinda big, left turn?…. well ok, Long bridge eh? listen here you piece of paper you! just what in the hell are you trying to say! ) and so it went until we called Annie who calmly guided us to her house.

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