Homeless, Currently

Yup, you heard that right! I’m currently a member of the Santa Cruz streetfolk.  Keep checking back over the next couple of weeks for updates on where I am and what I’m up to, and hey, if you’re from the area, send me an email, we could always use more friends down here. wolfgang.tokesalot@gmail.com

This post’s temporary, I’m working on a novel or sorts about the adventures down here in great detail, and it’ll be worth the read, trust me. This will do for now, the short short short version.

So check this out, I’ve been in Pescadero for over a week now working on the Harley Goat Farms, a rather famous goat cheese producer owned by the lovely Dee Harley, a thick accented English woman who happens to be Lyra’s godmother. We’re holdin up at the cabin behind the farm for now, this small closet sized one bed and a toilet thing with no heat or a/c, not that we need it.

By Friday, Aug 1st we had made about 200 bucks pulling weeds and breaking fences down and could finally make our venture down to Santa Cruz. We snagged a couple of light packs with the essentials: warm jackets and bud. Lyra and I started our walk from Pescadero, and shortly got picked up by the farm manager, Ryan and were given a ride to the coast 2 miles away, but 33 miles from SC. We proceeded to walk, thumbs out and a cardboard sign labeled “Travelers headed to SANTA CRUZ, please help!”

About an hour later an old ford puts to the side of the road and an oldschool hippy steps out, introducing himself as Bill, our first ride. He gave us a ride straight to Santa Cruz, and told us stories about his days as a bum in the Cruz, and about running drugs up the coast. He pointed out some caves and party spots for us, and gave us the location of a secret hangout for hippies in the area. Hell yeah.

Half an hour later he dropped us off uptown. We said our goodbyes, picked up our bags, and started walking downtown, contemplating stealing bikes on the way (and continued to think about it the rest of the stay. Should of, damnit). Upon our arrival downtown we headed straight to the pipeshop for a carton of cigarettes and a dugout, much needed supplys in our case. Dodging traffic we made it over to the red church, a local hangout for homeless and streetfolk, punks and the like.

There wasn’t much when we first got there, so we sat and got stoned until a bum named Harley came up and introduced himself by offering us a bag of figs and half a small bottle of orange juice. In trade we smoked him out and gave him a little pot, not knowing that was the last we had. Ah well, but still, it sucked. Soon enough a crowd was around us, lighting pipes until everyone was stone silent, and we took off. Down the road Lyra realized she left her phone with some guy named Jake who was trying to sell us an alarm clock he jacked, and we ran back to get it, with no success. But we did get something out of going back.

Some shady guy who’s name I can’t remember was trying to sell me some sour diesel I wasn’t at all interested in. Sure, it’s great pot, but he wanted to go get more, and me to come with, something i dont do with shady strangers who don’t look me in the eyes. After a while he mentions shrooms though, and that’s something we went to the church to get, so we took him up on it and walked down the road with him.

He was obviously drugged up, a little while down the road we noticed a teddy bear with a blindfold sticking out the top of a trash can, and he stopped and studied it muttering, “That’s so trippy.. That’s so scary.. That’s..”

We kept walking, and he followed, soon he was wandering out into the middle of the street and beckoning us into back alleys, screw that, I wasn’t about to be stabbed, i slipped my knuckles over my fingers and kept going, and he met us on a back road. We convince eachother we’re cool, being that we’re pretty sketch towards eachother at the time, and keep walking. Lyra slipped on a leaf walking behind him and the guy spun around and stared her down. “I thought you were cocking a gun.” He said finally. What the fuck, right? We got our shrooms, and hurried up and got out of there. Screw that guy.

Some guy told us to head over to the bike church to get cheap bikes, but they were out at the time, so we sat on the curb and ate the figs we aquired earlier and were idlely talking about how much everyone in Santa Cruz looks like people we know. I laughed and pointed to my left and said, “Yeah, and look at those two, they look just like….. Holy shit is that Steven and Lewi?”

It was. The last people I expected to see walking downtown SC strolled up eating this delicious looking pizza. We didn’t eat much while down there. Lyra and I strut right up and yell “Whassappening?!” Not much, of course. Everyone says that.

“We’re bums!” we proclaimed loudly. It was then they told us they were on a family trip, and introduced their dad. Oops. He gave us this look like, “Who the fuck are these trashy kids?” Ah well. We parted ways soon after and headed to longs to get a bite and find a place to sleep.

On the way a guy sitting on the curb gave Lyra a look like he wanted to talk to her, so she struck up a conversation. “Where’s a good place to sleep around here?” A friend of his stepped up and said for two cigarettes he’d show us, so we took it and he led us off to the river behind longs, and showed us a bum camp in the bushes. He gave us his old spot, saying he was leaving that night and no longer needed it, and introduced us to our neighbor, Animal, and his girlfriend, sleeping in the bush adjacent to us. These were some funny folks, joking around and had a young light in their older faces. We smoked them out and headed back to our camp, where we layed and listened to those two screw in their bush for a couple hours, before we followed example and did the same.

Later that night police were racing by back and forth on the road just behind us. A loud concert was taking place somewhere, and there was a lot of ruckus in town. Before long, we heard gunshots, and the police were right behind us for a long time. It was nerve wracking, but we got through it alright and finally got some sleep after the bums in the neighboring camp offered up their spot sometime after dark.

The next day I woke up to find everyone, including Lyra, gone. I stretched and waited for her to get back, which didn’t take long. We took to the street downtown to find some weed and head up to the mountains for a night of intense fun on shrooms. Guess who we saw downtown? Animal, of course. He was standing on the sidewalk with his girlfriend, a little alien shaped water bottle in front of him with some change in it and a sign that read, “Abducted by Aliens, need money for probe removal.” I laughed so hard I spit my cigarette out on to the ground.

While I fumbled trying to pick up my stogie he told us about some of his other signs, “Aliens killed my dog.” Which he would pair with yelling, “Please help, Aliens vaporized my dog, I woke up in a pile of fur and bones!” Hysterical guy.

We decided he’d be a good canidate to ask for some bud, and he was more than happy to assist us in our search. We met some guy named Pete who sat with us while Animal read some receipt on the ground like he was Japanese. Eventually we followed him over to his homeboy behind the Catalyst, a local punk show venue…

Battery is dying! I’ll update the rest very soon!!

-Rory