032303

 

San Antonio to San Marcos, TX

Sunday March 23, 2003

                   Wow, what a dramatic turn of events. Let me tell you what's happened so far.

                   Friday, I felt ready to depart for my sequel-trip to the East Coast. I was going to walk to Austin from San Antonio to fly my sign and spread my email address. With the two hundred dollars my father had wired me I was able to buy some supplies. Thursday, I had gone to GNC and bought me some more Muscle Blast 2000. I went to Wal-Mart and bought another micro-cassette recorder, some blank cassettes and a new CD player. I also bought a fifty-pack of 3½ inch floppy computer disks. I loaded twenty five disks with all my important documents. I was going to hand them out and plant the seed in every town I went. Anyway, on Friday my mom did not hesitate to start bitching at me for no reason. I don't know how many times I have told her that complaining won't do shit. I was just fed up.
                   I had spent all day Thursday doing my laundry and going over my inventory. I even had my cape(which I found in the Free Box in Berkeley) fixed for free at a dressmaker shop. I loaded up my rucksack and tried it on. Man, I missed having that weight on my back. Friday, right before I had enough of my mom and was about to catch the bus to leave walking for Austin, my friend Tobin called.
                   Let me tell you how I met Tobin. A couple days after I got back from my West Coast adventure I had ridden the bus to Planet K, the headshop on Evers. I wanted to tell my friends there about my trip. When I walked in nobody I knew was there. I walked by some dude and I guess he noticed the jovial look on my face and my rainbow beanie, because he asked me how I was doing. I smiled and told him, "I'm the happiest man in the world," and told him a condensed version of my story. His name was Tobin and he tells me, "You look like you got your shit together. Want to go to Laredo in three days? I'll give you a free ride and food. I've even got a free hotel room waiting. If you need to come back before I do, I'll even spot you bus fare for a Greyhound ticket home." Hell yeah I told him. He gave me his email address and I put it in my wallet. Afterwards when I got home, I emailed him. He told me the trip to Laredo had been postponed one month. Bummer.

                   Anyway, back to the story. Tobin called me up Friday and asked me what I was doing. I told him I was about to walk to Austin. He tells me, "I'm having my bachelor party in Wimberley this weekend, want to go?" I ask him if Wimberley was any closer to Austin and he tells me, "Yeah, like halfway there. Actually, people from Austin will be at my party and you can probably score a ride there." Perfection, once more. I was about to leave, remember.
                   Tobin tells me he'll come get me in a couple of hours. I checked my watch and saw it was almost time for the bus to come. I had been meaning to let my friend Bob borrow my CD-burner(which is really Chasity's, but she's in Florida, so oh well). It was the least I could do. Bob gave me his rucksack, remember. I call Tobin back and tell him I was going to catch the bus to my friend's in Babcock North. He tells me, "Cool, I'll be over by Dezavala and I10 and you'll be closeby. That's perfect." My mom overheard me talking on the phone and offered to give me a ride to Bob's. I told her she didn't have to, but she insisted(aww, feeling guilty, mom?). I loaded up my Triforce of Wealth(my rucksack, Adidas bag and walking stick) into her car and we took off. We rode for a couple minutes and I realized I had forgotten my sign and utensil-kit. I asked my mom if she could turn around so I could get my sign, but she refused telling me I could just make a new one. I told her that I really needed my things and she started bitching about how I didn't appreciate her. I told her, "I didn't twist your arm, you offered remember?" She tells me she has other appointments like taking my little nephew to the park. I tell her, "Damnit mother, you still don't see the importance of what I am doing? You can't wait a measly five minutes for your son? You are pathetic." Then she tells me to stop disrespecting her. I say, "Respect is something you earn. You just don't automatically deserve respect for the role you play in life. You deserve my disrespect, mom." She got mad after that and pulled into the parking lot of the church on Prue Road and Cedar Park. She tells me to get out and I refuse telling her, "No, you will either take me to Bob's or back home to your house. Either way, I refuse to get out. It's your choice. What you do is always your choice." She chose to take me to Bob's.

                   At Bob's she pulls up and I unload my gear. She slowly pulled out of the driveway and drove off. I picked up my gear and Bob and Carlos stepped outside. They had been in the garage. I asked them what's up and that I had brought the CD-burner. They let me use the phone and I called Tobin. Tobin said he was closeby and he'd be there shortly. I smoked a cigarette to pass the time. Tobin finally pulled up in his red Cavalier. I got in and we drove to his house in Timberhill. At his house I met his friend Danny who's car we'll be riding in to Wimberley. We loaded all the supplies into Danny's car and I squeezed into the rear-right seat. Off we go Northward towards Wimberley. The ride there wasn't too bad except for the fact that Danny didn't let me smoke in his car. We stopped at a gas station right outside Loop 1604 and bought some snacks. We were outside just hanging out and Tobin pulls out this badass digital camera. I immediately fall in love with it telling Tobin, "Dude, if I had one of those I could log my trips so much better." I had fifty five dollars in my wallet and offered it to Tobin. He said, "Actually man, I need it for my wedding, but afterwards you can have it." I told him that I would be on the road so he offered to mail it to me. Awesome. Some more spoils to the Victor.

                   From the gas station we drove about thirty minutes to Wimberley. We pulled into this ranch in the hill-country where people play Frisbee golf. We park next to these other other cars by the office. As I stepped out of the car I prepared my scripts in my head. We walked into the office and I met the manager, Paul. Paul had me sign some consent forms and listened attentively to my stories. I offered him a hit from my peace-pipe and he agreed. I went outside and helped the guys unload the car. We were hauling everything down this hill to a clearing where they had a fire started. This ranch was just beautiful. There were like five other guys there already. Tobin passed out these little red diodes to everyone. Later, we taped the little red lights to our Frisbee discs so we could see them in the dark.
                   I had never played Frisbee-golf before so let me explain. Frisbee golf is played just like ball-golf except with, you guessed it, Frisbees. They have a big course laid out in the beautiful ranch. Instead of holes they have "discatchers". Discatchers are about five feet tall and have a basket with chains hanging down inside of it. The point of the game is to get your Frisbee in the basket in the least amount of throws. It was really cool playing at night with our lit Frisbees. I played for about half an hour until suddenly a random Frisbee hit me in the knee. Ouch! Pain! I dropped to the ground in agony. I then liked Frisbee golf a little less. Who would've thought you could get hurt playing any type of golf? I stopped playing after that. Not only because I was in pain and limping, it just wasn't that much fun for me. It got boring like regular golf. I would much rather play catch with someone instead.
                   I was bored and I wanted to do some exploring. I went up to the guys and told them I was going to go get lost in the woods. Tobin hooked me up with this little keychain flashlight and I went for a walk. I was walking along this creek and I found this big rubber matt. I sat down and lit a cigarette. A hit of weed here and there and I was completely relaxed. I sat there for about fifteen minutes and finally stood and headed back towards the camp. They had a keg there and everyone was drinking, except me. I hate the taste of beer. I accepted a couple shots of something Tobin had in a flask because I didn't have to taste it that much. That's all the alcohol I drank. I was cool with my weed which is much safer. Around midnight, I curled up into my sleeping bag next to the fire and crashed out.
                   Saturday morning I woke up at five thirty when the first drizzle fell. I got up, put my rucksack under the picnic table that was out there and donned my rain poncho. I looked through all the crap on the table and put as much of it underneath as I could. It was starting to rain a little harder and someone else got up. There were still three other guys sleeping in the rain including Tobin. I tried to wake Tobin up, but he wanted to sleep some more. My jeans were starting to get wet, so I climbed up the hill to the ranch office. They had a covered porch with a table and chairs. I set down my rucksack and smoked a cigarette. When I was done with my cigarette I walked back down the hill to see if everyone had woken up and needed help. Tobin and the rest of the guys were up scrambling to get there stuff together. You could see the steam emanating from Tobin's skin. I guess he's got a pretty warm sleeping bag. I tried to help, but it was all little stuff and I wasn't sure where it all went, so I told Tobin I was going to wait for them at the nice dry porch. I got up to the porch and smoked cigarettes and weed. I offered Paul a hit but he declined because he was working.
                   By that time the rain had let up drastically. They were still going to party all day so I asked Tobin how far we were from the outlet mall in San Marcos. I needed to buy a new wallet at the Fossil outlet. I had already bought two of the same wallets there so it had become a custom for me. Tobin told me I would be walking all day and if I would wait until four that he could give me a ride. Four 'o clock was like three hours away and I was really bored so I got ready to leave. I got directions from Paul and he told me I had to walk 2352(I think) nine miles to Highway 12, then another ten miles to San Marcos. I had clocked my gait in California to approximately three miles per hour, so I was estimating at least three hours to get to Highway 12.

                   Off I go around one. On this walk I was going to try a new resting system I had just thought up. Every fifteen minutes I was going to stop and bend over to rest my shoulders for sixty seconds. Bending over takes the strain off my shoulders and has my lower back support the weight of my rucksack. Every hour I was going to take off my bags and sit down for ten minutes to rest my feet. After the first hour I stopped. I had to pee real bad, but I couldn't find a concealed area. I waited for some cars to pass and took a leak next to this telephone pole, hoping nobody saw. After that I rested a little more and kept walking. My system seemed to be working pretty well. I walked another two hours and I could see Highway 12 in the horizon(so I thought). Just then, I heard someone decelerating behind me. I thought, "Cool, someone might give me a ride." This red truck drove right past me and pulled over in the grass. I smile and walk towards the truck. This old redneck man jumps out of the driver side and yells at me, "Drop your stick!" I don't and ask, "What did I do?!" He reaches behind his back and pulls out a gun, points it at me and says, "I said drop your stick and get on the ground. Next time you feel like pissing in somebody's lawn, make sure it ain't mine." I laid on the ground on my stomach and apologized telling him, "I'm sorry, sir, but nature called and I pissed on the other side of the fence, not on your property." He was too enraged to listen and told me to turn around and give him something with my name on it. He told me to take off my backpack and asked me, "What do you have in there? Everything you own?" I told him, "No, sir. Just everything I need." He then told me to get my things and get in the bed of his truck. I asked him where he was taking me and he said, "West, to the county line. If I see you walking East again not only will you get an ass-beatin' but..." He didn't finish the sentence. He read my sign, which I kept in the frame of my rucksack and said, "Legalize marijuana, eh?"
                   The hick drove me like three or four miles back in the direction I had already walked. He stopped and told me to get out of his truck. I threw out my stick and bags and jumped out. He yelled at me, "Remember, you've been warned." I told him to drive carefully, glanced at his license plate and repeated it into my recorder and took off walking West. I figured I would walk back to the Frisbee golf ranch and get a ride.

                   I walked for about another ten minutes when I hear another car pulling up behind me. Shit, the police. This cop got out of his car and asked me how I was doing. I told him I was doing excellent, that I was a long-distance walker. I knew that guy had called them so I apologized for pissing in front of his house, but that none of it had landed on his side of the fence. The officer asked me if I had consumed anything that would impair my judgment and I told him no, that I didn't do drugs. He asked me if I had anything in my bag that he should know about and I told him no, that he was more than welcome to look. His partner grabbed my sign and read it. I knew they were going to ask me if I had any marijuana on me so I reached for my pipe and stash and handed it to them. One cop told me to empty out my pockets on the hood of his car and I did. I pulled out my tape recorder and told them I was keeping a journal to compensate for my memory-deficits. I told them that it was nothing but the truth. One cop asked me if I had documented me smoking weed and if I had, that it would be investigated and used as evidence. He slapped some handcuffs on me and told me I was under arrest for possession of marijuana. He put me in the back of his car and walked over to the other police car with my recorder. The two officers sat inside and reviewed some of my recordings. I never gave them permission to review my journal and I felt it was a blatant violation of my right to privacy.
                   In my rucksack they found my hard-drive along with my other bag containing all the cassettes detailing my West Coast adventure I had recently returned from. They told me those items would be investigated. For what? I had already proclaimed my guilt with the marijuana. They have absolutely no right to continue invading my privacy. If they do, wouldn't I have grounds for a sure-win lawsuit? Nobody is above the law.
                   The time was around six and I am driven to Hays County Jail in San Marcos. I am being charged with possession of marijuana, less than two ounces. A Class B Misdemeanor. My bond is set at fifteen hundred dollars. I am placed in a holding cell with about twenty other people. I quickly made friends and started telling my stories. I tried calling my mother but her phone would not accept collect calls. They suggested I call a bondsman and try to make bail. They had a big list of bondsmen taped to the window. I called a couple and the lowest charge I could find was two hundred and fifty dollars. I told a bondsman that I could not contact my mother because her phone would not accept collect calls and calls to cellphones could not be made from the phones in jail. The bondsman offered to call my mom three-way. I gave him her home number and he returned on the line telling me the number was disconnected. I gave him her cellphone number and told him to be sure to tell her that I had fifty dollars and that she would only have to pay two hundred. Also, to tell her that my father was sending me three hundred dollars soon and I would pay her back. She got on the phone and I asked her for the loan. She got this attitude and immediately told me she didn't have it, nor was she going to attempt to get it for me. She said, "If I get it for you, you're only going to keep smoking it." I told her, "Thanks for nothing mother. Like I said, I don't need you. I'll just do my time," and hung up.

                   I fell asleep on the floor and woke up the next morning at four thirty, when they served breakfast. It's so stupid they serve breakfast so early. Yesterday, when I talked to the magistrate, he set my court date to May first, over a month away. He told me if I couldn't make bail, that I could stay in jail until May and not have to pay any charges. I guess that's what I'm going to do. It should be easy as long as I hold onto my free-of-responsibility attitude. I have already made lots of friends.

Next day..