firstody

 My First Odyssey - West 

writeprotect@hotmail.com 

    Ok, my name is Victor and I have just recently returned from one great big magical  adventure.  See, I took off walking for the west coast from San Antonio, Texas on December 26th, 2002 at around 3am.  I told myself, "I'm going to walk all the way to California."  It would have  taken me about 3 months, 2,000 miles.  All I needed was a destination though.  I'd get there eventually.   Patience is virtue. 

    Before I left, I dragged every belonging of mine onto my mother's front lawn and put up a  big sign that read,"FREE STUFF".  There was quality stuff like a computer monitor, my whole  wardrobe and just about everything you need for a one bedroom apartment.  I figured if I gave all my stuff away, I wouldn't have anything to lose and I could walk to California.  When people came  and picked stuff up I would tell them, "Keep in mind I am walking to California soon.  I accept  donations if you want to give me something."  I ended up making $50 like that. 

    Come Christmas night, I felt ready to depart.  So I grabbed two backpacks and stuffed them full of supplies.  It was kind of awkward carrying two backpacks on my back, but I just had this huge urge to leave already.  None of my friends believed me when I told them what I planned to  do.  One had told me, "I think you're full of shit, Victor.  What are you waiting for?"  Well, I  was going to show him. 

    I walked about 5 miles to my friend Bob's house because he lived closer to Interstate 10  than my mother did.  I was going to crash there and take off walking in the morning.  I showed up  at Bob's house and he saw my two awkward bags.  He then told me, "Victor, I am going to  consolidate that for you so you'll only need one bag."  Bob had been in the military and had this  badass army bag with a frame and backpad(I later learned it was called a rucksack).  Dude, this  bag was perfect for what I was going to do.  It was adjustable in every way.  Perfection.  I now  felt I was meant to do this. 

    Bob called my other friend Andrea and told her I had just showed up at his house.  After he  hung up with Andrea, he tells me, "If you want to leave right now, not in the morning, Andrea and  I will take you some ways west.  We'll give you a good boost to start off your journey."  I  immediately agreed.  I was all excited.  I couldn't believe I was actually going to do it.  Now  Bob and Andrea dropped me off in Comfort, I think.  When Bob pulled over on the side of the road,  he turns around and says, "Victor, It's not too late.  This is the last chance you will have to  change your mind."  I bid Bob and Andrea farewell and told them to drive carefully back to San  Antonio. 

    I walked for 2 days, about 45 miles.  I wasn't going to hitch hike at all.  I was walking to  prove, for a fact, that humans have two legs for a reason and it's not to push the gas and the  brake.  And, that cars have made society lazy and impatient.  Good things come to those who wait,  and adversely, bad things come to those who don't.  I was also going to do it with no money, to  prove that could be done too. 

    Well, on the second day, this guy just pulled over in front of me a little past Sonora, I  believe.  I didn't have my thumb out or anything, I was just walking.  You should have seen me.   I had my big rucksack on my back, my adidas soccer shoe bag on my front and my 5 foot walking  stick with a tennis ball on the end that acted as a grip.  I guess I just looked like I needed a  ride.  He stops and tells me, "Hi, I'm going to California, where are you going?"  Bam, free ride  from west Texas to Los Angeles.  His name was Rusty and he had a big "Jesus Is Lord" sticker on  his back windshield.  I felt I could trust him. 

    Now, in downtown LA, I crashed at the homeless shelter and rested my feet.  The next morning  I stumbled onto the Greyhound station, coincidentally.  Now I had considered taking the Greyhound  all the way from San Antonio, but a bus trip would have been boring.  If I walked, half the fun  would be getting there.  In LA, I only had $37 left of the $50 I had brought.  I asked them how  much a ticket to San Francisco would be(I had been sending all my ideas to the SF chatroom on  AOL, they were kind of expecting me).  They told me it was $42.  Shit, I only had $37.  I needed  5 bucks. 

    I was kinda bummed.  So I go outside the bus station and bum a cigarette.  I strike up a  conversation with the guy who gave me the cigarette.  I tell him about my mission, and that I am  short $5 for my fare.  Without me asking, he immediately reaches into his pocket and hands me a  $5 bill.  He tells me, "If you're really going to do that, more power to you."  I told him  somebody had to do it.  So bam, got my ticket to SF. 

    San Francisco was just awesome.  I had never been to the west coast before.  I crashed in Golden Gate Park every night.  It was like a fairy tale.  I walked around and rode the bus around for 3 days and learned the city.  I didn't pay bus fare one time in SF.   All you have to do is get on and ask for a courtesy ride, hehe.  SF was cool and all, but after 3  days it began to get on my nerves.  It was too damn crowded, and all run by money.  I felt like I  had to leave. 

    Now, my "friend" BJ, who I grew up with in San Antonio lived in Oakland, last I had heard.   So, I caught the BART to Oakland, which is a suburb of SF.  I didn't know BJ's address or phone  number.  Maybe I'll just run into him, I thought.  If not, I'll get to learn a new place. 

    Well, the random courtesy ride I scored in Oakland landed me on Telegraph Avenue in  Berkeley.  If you're not familiar with this famous street, I've found a site that will elaborate: 

http://www.pandemonia.com/pandemonia/occupation/explanation.html 

    Now, I wasn't even aiming for Berkeley.  The bus I got on didn't say Berkeley or anything.   Remember, I was looking for my friend in Oakland.  I didn't know about the big hippie movement  there or People's Park or anything.  I just landed in Berkeley on accident.  It's kind of ironic  that on my quest for world-peace, I end up in such a landmark as Berkeley. 

    Now, Berkeley is just awesome.  I felt so accepted there and didn't have to worry about  much.  People just gave you things on the street.  They had breakfast every day at this church  and a meal at 4pm.  It was just too perfect.  The University of California was walking distance  and I could go use the computers there from 9-5 if I wanted.  All my basic needs were met  lavishly in Berkeley. 

    Now, the first night I was there, I noticed all the people asking for spare change on the  sidewalk. I thought, "Hmm, I'm going to tap that medium."  It was a college town full of  pedestrians, mostly my generation.  I made my own sign, not asking for change or anything.  It  read: 

    With the Internet I plan to.. 

    - eliminate money, make everything free and bring world peace 

    - get rid of cars in big cities and save the ozone layer 

    - get marijuana legalized and chill everybody out 

I've got it ALL figured out.  ASK ME HOW 

WRITEPROTECT@HOTMAIL.COM 

    Now, when I first started flying my sign, I just propped it up and stood there.  No one was  just stopping to read it though.  So, every person that walked by I would tell them, "Hey, will  you read my sign?  It's very important.  I just want you to read it, that's it."  People  eventually stopped and read it.  Most were impressed and immediately asked me how.  Here, I'll  show you my script that I was telling the people who asked: 

    "What are some common problems you encounter when you have a new idea and are trying to get  it out?  For one, if you're telling your ideas orally, by mouth, you sometimes run into the  problem of not remembering the whole story, because no one is perfect.  Secondly, you have  IGNORANCE.  People are too set in their old-fashioned, lazy ways, deathly afraid of change(even  if it's for the better) and they won't even listen to you.  Well, I've found a way to jump both  of those hurdles with the Internet.  What I'll do is run an FTP server off my computer, giving  anyone in the world access to my hard drive.  Only the files and directories I want them to  access, of course.  On my hard drive, I will have a directory with all my ideas.  Just simple  text files that anyone can read with any web browser.  Simple web page, just text, no graphics.   This way, people can read my ideas UNCENSORED, at their discretion(they can finish them when they  want to), but every single time, the entire story will be told. 

    It seems to me that's what the Internet is for.  It's a global medium and it's NOT PART OF  THE SYSTEM.  You can't stop bytes. 

    You know what my model for this freedom I envision is?  The pirated software scene on the  Internet.  Where everything is free already and has been since the birth of the Internet.  You  can download new movies still in theaters and watch them at home on your computer.  Hell, I had  Windows XP months before it was released to the public, for free.  It's also an  accepted-underworld.  Software companies will spend much more money tracing and litigating each  offender, than they're already making from the people paying for it legitimately.  It's not  cost-effective to them, so they just ignore it.  So what I'm gonna do, is just tell everyone.   I'll massmail detailed instructions on how to get free shit off the web.  then people will stop  paying for stuff, and we will have to get rid of money." 

    Now, when people actually stopped and read my sign, I would tell them, "I want to put some  flyers up around town and get the ball rolling a little faster, so if you have any spare change,  that will help.  If not, just take down my email address and I'll back my shit up."  Man, people  were giving me dollar bills.  I could make $40/night easy with my sign.  I sure was in the right  town to do it. 

    Now, the coolest shit happened when I flew that sign.  The first night, this girl walked up  and read it.  She started freaking out and told me, "My grandmother told me I would meet you  tonight!  She said I would meet Antonio."  Antonio just happens to be my middle name.  I was  tripping out myself.  Anyway, she ends up taking me out to dinner.  Gourmet Indian food.  It was  yummy, I had never eaten Indian food before. 

    Well, I was in Berkeley for 15 days.  On the last day, I was flying my sign on Telegraph and  this 18 year old chick comes up and reads my sign.  This girl, her name is Sammie, ends up  talking to me for hours.  She tells me that her and her friend were going to hang out at her  apartment and drink some beers, and that I was more than welcome to join them.  So I went and  hung out with her and her friend, Kate.  I was telling Kate how I've been traveling.  All of a  sudden, Kate asks me, "Well, do you want to go to Arcata?"  I freak and tell her, "Arcata?  You  mean Humboldt county Arcata?"  She goes, "Yeah, I live there.  I go to HSU and I'm driving back  tomorrow."  Shweet! 

    That night, we drive to her mother's house in Martinez(another suburb of SF).  I get to take  a shower and do my laundry.  I even get my own bed that night in their guest room.  The next day  we drive 5 hours north to Humboldt county in northern California.  She even let me drive the car.   I had never driven in California.  It was badass. 

    Arcata was very cool.  Everyone was super nice.  I got everything I needed in Arcata.   People smoked me out every day(Humboldt County is known for weed).  I was there for only 6 days.   I kind of got bored in Arcata.  It wasn't as populated as Berkeley and I couldn't fly my sign in  the plaza.  I felt like I needed to go back to Berkeley and get back to work. 

    Hmm, how am I going to get to Berkeley?  What I did was catch the city bus as far south as I  could to Scotia.  Then, I just started walking 101 south.  I wasn't going to hitch-hike.  I was  just gonna get picked up again, I was sure. 

    I walked for another two days.  The first night, when the sun went down, I luckily walked  upon an RV Park.  Stafford Road RV park, as I recall.  There was a sign that said, "camping".  It  was dark already and I saw a family watching television in the trailer marked "manager".  I  knocked on their sliding glass door and asked the manager if he would let me crash somewhere for  free.  I told him I was a long-distance walker and just needed to rest my feet for the night.  He  told me they weren't letting anyone else in because it was too wet.  Shit, I had just passed a  bridge before I got to the RV park, so I turned around and headed for it.  Just then, I got this  great idea.  I turned around and walked back to the RV park.  I was going to see if there were  any tenants outside I could talk to.  Maybe one of them would let me crash under their trailer or  something. 

    I spotted this father and son talking outside.  I walk up to them and ask, "I don't suppose  I would be so fortunate as for one of you guys to have a spare cigarette?"  They looked at me and  said, "No speak English."  So I talked to them in Spanish.  I told them how the manager wasn't  going to let me crash because it was too wet.  Well, this 20 year old kid turned out to work for  the RV park.  He tells me, "You can go crash in one of those buildings back there."  Shweet. 

    I walk back to this building.  It's like a camping shelter they were using for storage.  In  there, I find this rolled up carpet that rolled out into a perfect bed.  I slept great that  night, except in the middle of the night when a skunk stole my food.  Hell, I wasn't about to  argue with him.  In the morning, I woke up and was able to use the bathroom in the shower-house  they had out there for the campers.  I took a shit, shaved and brushed my teeth. 

    So I just start walking 101 south again.  I walk for about 10 miles.  It started raining and  I couldn't put my rain poncho over my army bag because I couldn't reach.  So, it kind of sucks  when it starts raining and I am by myself.  My feet were aching and I wanted to stop and rest  somewhere.  I noticed there was an exit coming up and I assumed there would be a bridge under the  highway where I could sit and rest my feet.  Sure enough, there was and I sat down.  I rested for  about 15 minutes.  I stood up and as cars were coming to the intersection, I would yell at them,  "Will you help me with my poncho??"  Nobody stopped and helped because they thought I was asking  for a ride. 

    So I took off.  It was still raining and my bag was getting wet.  I was following the  "freeway south" sign and I walked into this forest.  Avenue of the Giants, it was called.  Now,  the road the forest was on ran pretty parallel to the highway.  So, when I got to the sign  pointing freeway south, the access road to the highway, I remained in the forest.  It was a nice  walk, not to mention, dryer. 

    Well, about a ¼ mile up the road, where it turned left and almost touched the highway(where  I could just hop over the railing to get on the highway), I saw a truck pulled over.  I thought,  "Cool, someone can help me with my rain poncho."  I walk up to the truck and see a couple sitting  inside.  I walk up to them and ask them, "Will you help me with my poncho?"  They are both 23  years old.  Tony and Molly.  They said sure and I asked them if they could give me a ride to the  next town south, Weott(they were heading north).  Tommy said, "Sure, as soon as the gas gets  here." 

    Now, check this out.  Tony hadn't run out of gas yet.  He noticed that he did not have  enough gas to get to the next town.  He chose that random spot to stop and call someone on his  cellphone to come bring him some gas.  Now, if I had done anything different that day, if it  hadn't been raining, if I hadn't been tired and rested my feet, if I had followed the access road  instead of going through the forest, I would have walked way past the point where Tony decided to  stop. 

    Tony and Molly are the coolest.  I start telling them about my mission and to my surprise,  Tony says that him and Molly are working on the same mission almost.  Tony was on his way to a  medicine camp in Oregon.  He was delivering wood so they could build a kitchen at the camp.  I  offer them the last couple hits of weed that I had left.  Tony says, "Don't worry about it.  We  have plenty." and hands me a loaded pipe.  Shweet!! 

    You'll never believe what happens next.  Tony ends up inviting me to this healing camp in  Oregon.  I tell Tony that I really should be getting back to Berkeley, but I guess I can go back  AFTER Oregon.  I really should not pass up such an opportunity. 

    So about 45 minutes later, this guy shows up with some gas and we drive back to Arcata.  We  crash at Tony's friend Jesse's apartment and the next morning, we drive up to Oregon.  The town  is O'Brien.  Some tiny town in the Oregon mountains about 6 miles north of the California border. 

    Now, this medicine camp is fabulous.  This Vietnam vet Shadow owns 40 acres at the base of a  mountain.  About 8 people live there.  There's no running water and they use generators and solar  cells for electricity.  They are minimalists like me, and live without money.  Just how I want  the whole world to live.  How perfect is that? 

    The first night I was at this camp, which was called "Our Mountain", I got to sleep in my  own little travel trailer.  It was awesome.  My own little civilized room out in the mountains.   I had a mattress and blankets and everything.  In the mornings, I would take a shit in a paint  bucket that was in this stall they built by the trailer.  I would have a bag full of sawdust that  I sprinkled over my shit, which served the same purpose as kitty-litter.  It would soak up the  odor so it wouldn't stink so bad. 

    I was invited to help with this kitchen they're building for the camp.  Tony had brought in  some materials.  2x4's and stuff.  I helped as much as I could. 

    Now, at this camp, they had a medicine woman, Fawn.  Fawn was like a mother.  I was never  hungry when I lived there.  If I ever got hungry, all I would have to do is show up at her  trailer and she would fire up the gas stove and fry me up some organic potatoes.  She was a  healer and claimed a 90% success rate.  She told me of some guy who went through one of her  healing lodges.  He had clubbed feet and he agreed to go through a healing process.  Fawn  channels the spirits and the patient just falls asleep, even if they're not tired.  Then the  spirits supposedly fix whatever they see wrong.  Well, to make a long story short, that guy with  clubbed feet can walk perfectly now.  He's growing toes and everything.  Only after 4 hours in  the healing lodge. 

    Now when I first got there, Fawn had to check me out with the spirits.  I've never believed  in spirits before, but now I play around with the idea.  Anyway, Fawn told me the spirits had  told her that I was no threat to them.  That I was a beam of light and my purpose here was to  bring balance to the world.  They said I was a child of love.  Cool, the spirits got my back, I  suppose.  Fawn even made me this little leather pouch with a rock inside that was the shape of a  heart.  When she gave it to me, she said, "Here you go lovechild, this will ward off negativity."       Still, to this day, It hasn't been proven to me there is something else out there like  spirits or a god.  I think humans have always been too busy trying to personify love.  That's as  complicated as it has to get.  It's not god that makes you feel good inside, it's love.  Love is  god.  Love isn't a person.  Love is in all of us.  All humans were born with emotions.  I am not  saying it's impossible that there are spirits out there, just that it hasn't been proven to me,  that's all.  I am a firm believer that anything is possible.  We all have our own individual  reality.  Everyone's different. 

    Anyway, I was at this camp for about a week(I think).  Towards the end, Fawn told me I was  to continue on my journey.  They sent me to this town called Williams, to live with the hippies. 

    Nate and Vivian's trailer.  Nate was the guy who had the clubbed feet.  He was a real hippy.   He was 60 and had been at the peace movement since the 60's.  He grew his own marijuana in 3  grow-rooms out back.  He showed me his crop.  He had this one room with a huge, 5ft plant in it.   That was the mother plant, he called.  The other rooms were filled with clones that came from the  mother.  The first day I was there, he gave me my own private stash of weed. 

    I helped them as much as I could.  I did the dishes 3 times a day sometimes.  I was always  restocking their firewood and helping with anything else they needed.  They had a computer there,  but it was an old 300mhz system and wasn't online.  Their computer skills/resources were pretty  rudimentary, so I was going to help them as much as I could.  I even called my mom in San Antonio  and told her to put my 1.2ghz system in a box and mail it to Oregon.  It turned out costing more  than $100, so I told her forget it. 

    I lived with the hippies a little bit more than a week.  I got to crash on the living room  floor next to the fire.  I even went to a peace rally in Medford while I was there.  Man, I was  having so much fun.  If people only knew the things I went through, they wouldn't give me funny  looks when I tell them I am the happiest man in the world. 

    I got bored eventually.  So much cool shit had happened to me and I had it all logged with  my mini-cassette recorder.  I was ready to type up my book.  I just needed a dedicated computer,  which was hard to find in Williams.  Even at the library in Williams, the computer would reset  every hour.  I needed to go back to Berkeley and type up my book at UC. 

    So back to Arcata I go.  From Arcata, I catch the bus to Eureka and go hang out at the Raven  House.  The Raven House is this cool place where they let anybody hang out all day, do their  laundry, eat and a lot of other cool stuff.  In Eureka, this girl hooked me up with a little bag  of trim/shake.  It wasn't that much and I put it in a little baggy I kept in my wallet.  Then, I  end up walking the 6 miles back to Arcata, because I was bored. 

    Now, back in Arcata, rumor had it that some street kid was willing to trade a ticket to San  Francisco for a dimebag of weed.  Man, I wished I had a dimebag of weed.  Hell, I wish I knew who  this kid was.  Well, the next day this guy walks up to me and asks, "Hey, want a bus ticket to  SF?"  I said,"Oh, you're the guy who wants some weed for it right?"   I showed him the little bit  I had.  He looked through it and smelled it.  Then he says ok and hands me my Greyhound ticket to  San Francisco!  To the Victor go the spoils. 

    So I rode the Greyhound 100 miles south.  We stopped in Garberville and this guy sitting  next to me starts telling me how cool Garberville is.  That it's like Arcata before the cops got  there.  I was in no hurry to get back to Berkeley, so I decided to get off the bus and check  Garberville out.  Garberville was kinda lame.  It wasn't crowded and not that many young people.   The only homeless people I found were old, but I hung out with them anyway.  I ended up trading  my hat with this old dude for his.  I was bored, so I decided to start walking 101 south again  and see what would happen.  I was 200 miles away from SF. 

    I walked for about 5 miles and the sun had gone down.  There was this building next to the  highway and someone was outside smoking a cigarette.  I walk by and ask if he can spare one and  he did.  The place turns out to be a drug rehab center.  I was pretty hungry so I ate some  peanuts that I had.  Then, I saw a couple people eating food inside.  I ask the guy I bummed the  cigarette from if he could "spare any gasoline for my stomach".  He said he would see what he  could do and returned with this big plate of food.  Two fat drumsticks, some mashed potatoes and  greens.  Yummy. 

    I walked about a mile more and ended up at this gas station.  There was an RV park behind it  and I was gonna see if they would let me crash for the night.  If not, sneak in.  It was still  kinda early, so I just hung out at the gas station bumming cigarettes.  I had a little weed left  and I hate smoking by myself.  Just then, I see a car pull around towards the back and just stop  there.  There was a guy and a girl in there.  I walked up to them and asked them if they were  heading south at all.  The guy told me no and lit a cigarette.  I asked him if he could spare one  and he seemed hesitant.  I told him not to worry about it.  Just then, the girl in the passenger  seats tells me,"I want one of your necklaces, I'll give you a cigarette for one."  I told her I  loved to trade and barter, but I also loved my necklaces.  She then offered two cigarettes for  it.  I thought for a minute and told her, "Make it three and I'll think about it."  Bam, she gave  me 5 cigarettes for my necklace. 

    After they left, I saw this young dude pull up.  I asked him if he was going south and he  said yeah.  I asked him if I could hitch a ride and he said no problem.  I offered him a  cigarette and he said he didn't smoke cigarettes.  He told me he did smoke a lot of weed, though.   So badass, I got smoked out.  He was only going to Santa Rosa, which Berkeley was bussable to.   He smoked me out the whole way there.  In Santa Rosa, I crashed in the park and the next day I  rode the BART/bus all the way back to Berkeley. 

    Ahhh, back in Berkeley.  A lot of people recognized me and my walking stick and welcomed me  back.  The second day I was in Berkeley again, I see Joel, this guy who had given me his wool  socks off his feet the first time I was in Berkeley.  Hell, he had even hooked me up with a $20  bill.  Well, I saw him again and he ends up taking me to his house in suburban Hercules.  At his  awesome house, he lets me do my laundry, feeds me, smokes me out, and lets me cut my hair with  hair clippers.  Wow, Joel believes in me so much that he even, get this, looks up how much a bus  ticket to San Antonio is online, $130.  He can't figure out how to order the ticket online, so he  ends up giving me $160 cash.  He tells me he really hopes I buy the bus ticket and don't squander  it on something else.  Teehee, it doesn't get much better than that. 

    So the next day, I ride the train/bus to San Francisco and buy my bus ticket.  The bus ride  was the coolest.  From SF to LA, there were like 5 stoners sitting in the back of the bus.  It  was the coolest bus trip in the world.  Everyone was sharing food.  This girl, LM, even brought  all this weed banana bread and was hooking everyone up.  I showed her my smokeless sneak-a-toke  and told her to go hit it in the bathroom, hold her breath, and breath it out that little flap.   To my surprise, she sparks it up right there in the back of the bus.  She takes a big hit and  ends up coughing it all out.  Luckily, everyone closeby was a part of our party and almost  everyone else was asleep.  Hell, what else would people be doing on the back of the Greyhound bus  coming from San Francisco?  I had so much fun. 

    The Greyhound took us to LA, and from there we caught another bus all the way to El Paso,  TX.  I had to wait an hour for the bus to San Antonio.  I was outside smoking and this young girl  walks by and asks me, "Got any LSD?"  I tell her no, how about THC?  She said she didn't have any  either.  So I start talking with this girl, Bubbles.  I ask her if there is anything cool to do  in El Paso, that I was going to go ask if I could continue my journey tomorrow with my same bus  ticket.  She told me sure and that she would show me around, if I wanted her to.  I went inside  and asked the bus people.  They told me yeah.  So I was gonna chill in El Paso and do some  exploring. 

    Bubbles ends up taking me to this bar where her boyfriend works.  This bar is like 2 blocks away from the Greyhound station in downtown El Paso.  The bar was called the Blue Agave.  Anyway,  I met her boyfriend and his friend, Steve.  I told them about my mission and journey.  Steve asks  me where I'm going to sleep tonight.  I told him I didn't know, that I would find some place.   Well, Steve ends up working at the parking garage across the street from the bar.  He tells me I  can crash in this little maintenance room on the second floor.  He even takes me up and shows me  the room.  It's a small utility room.  It even had an alarm clock in there.  Perfection.  He  let's me put my army bag there and we walk back to the bar. 

    They bought me as many beers as I wanted, which was only like two.  They also bought me a  shot of Goldschlagger(or however you spell that).  Wow, it's like I had automatic friends in El  Paso. 

    The next day, the alarm woke me up at 5am.  Steve wanted me out of there early in case his  boss showed up.  I walked over to the Greyhound and I had to wait like 6 hours for the bus to San  Antonio.  I met some very cool people, though.   When it was finally time to get on the bus, I  boarded it and sat next to this guy I had been talking to.  This guy was really cool and kept me  company the whole 9 hours to San Antonio.  I learned a lot from him and have a lot of it  recorded. 

    I arrived in San Antonio around 9pm.  I walked over to Travis Park and caught the 91 to West  Telemarketing.  I tried calling my friend Carlos but no one answered.  So, I decided to walk the  45 minutes to their house.  When I got there, cars were in the driveway and the light turned on  inside.  I knocked on the door but no one answered.  By then, I was very tired.  I set my walking  stick in front of the front door, and went to the backyard.  I took out my sleeping bag and  blanket and crashed out on their back porch.  At about 3am, I am awoken by Carlos and Robert.  I  left the stick in the front so they would know I was there and look in the back.  It worked. 

    So now, I am back in San Antonio.  Why didn't I stay in California?  Because not everywhere  else is like the west coast, but it can be damnit.  It needs to be.  I've had my mini-cassette recorder with me the whole time.  I logged the entire experience.  As detailed as possible.  It  is nothing but the truth.  When I finally type up everything I recorded, my book should act as cold-hard proof, in black and white, that it's human-nature to be generous and we don't need money to live.  Go ahead, work, waste your life away.  I don't have to. 

    I came back home to type up my book on my mom's computer, go work at West Telemarketing and save up some money, buy a digital camera, try to score a traveling partner/girlfriend and head  out for a sequel-trip.  I'm thinking East this time.  I'll go visit my exgirlfriend Chasity and  my dog Stuart in Florida.  I'll go to Key West and all the other vortexes out there.  Not to  mention, I will be giving out my email address everywhere I go and saving the planet.  I think I just might walk up to Austin soon and hang out there for a week.  Austin is only 60 miles north of San Antonio.  It should take me like 3 days to get there, unless someone picks me up again.  Hey,  somebody's gotta do it, no? 

- Victor 

Don't you have to be a little crazy these days to make a difference? 

writeprotect@hotmail.com