End Of Depression
Oct. 9
The hitchhiking was good today; it was warm in New Mexico
and the countryside was mountainous (like Boyne Mt.) with evergreens
covering them. I never thought of New Mexico as being so beautiful.
Santa Fe, the capital city, was especially worth seeing. I didn't
see one building that wasn't adobe and the town, with its narrow
streets, looked and felt like the old west; it was the kind of city
I look forward to returning to someday. It was less a city and more
an Old Spanish settlement, peaceful, truly unique for an American
city.
After a couple short rides with some good people, a cat out of
Chicago, bound for L.A., picked me up. He was carrying an ounce of
weed and he had a lot of good music on tape, James Taylor, Who,
etc., (we put James on automatic repeat) and some really good grass.
We had so much fun that I decided to ride (I did some of the driving
too) as far as the Grand Canyon. Its amazing how traveling can put
an end to depression; especially when you're traveling with good
people.
Sunny needed to cash a check, so we stopped in Albuquerque
and, after leaving the bank, we picked up another six-pack of beer.
Once we hit Arizona, we were really tripped out. At one point, we
stopped at a bar to eat. We were on the boarder of the Navajo Indian
reservation (most of Arizona is reservation territory), so we
weren't surprised to find the bar packed with Indians. It was a
treat to glimpse the reservation culture and, as we were leaving the
bar, some pre-teen Indian boys followed us out to the car. They
wanted to know if we could get them some weed, we told them "sorry,"
and then split.
Just before we arrived in Flagstaff, Sunny asked me if I
wanted to go with him to L.A. He said we could become roommates and
he would find me some work in radio. He was on his way to his new
job as a radio engineer. I gave the idea some thought, but I
scrapped it in favor of continuing on my journey to that deserted
island off the coast of Texas. I couldn't see myself living in L.A.
anyhow. When it was time to get out of the car, I stumbled up the
embankment, and rolled my sleeping bag out under some small pine
trees. I didn't notice how cold it was until I woke up the next
morning.
Once I got my shit together, I hitched into Flagstaff and
the first thing that I saw were pigs busting a couple of cats for
hitchhiking. I found out later that Flagstaff had a "no hitchhiking
law," just what I needed, a "little Denver." I walked to the city
limits before I started hitching to the Grand Canyon. Another not so
pleasant thing about Flagstaff was that it was the coldest town in
Arizona and today was no exception. I was happy to get a ride.
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