The Travels of a Mad Man

Long story short… Im a drinker with a traveling problem… I might get back to it but write in a non chronological order. Plenty has happened to keep me from the computer, which results in great stories…Tales of the strange… or I might just not write. I have been tho just not on here. Let me know your thoughts. Is it dead?Look at this ramble… I better stop. Phone rings perfect…. 

Well Yosemite… Yosemite is a gorgeous place, but going during the summer the place is packed, unless you go back country, so that’s exactly what I did. I arrived got my permits made up some bullshit plan of a hike, got my bearproof container and packed my tiny lil skateboarder bag and then tried to sleep in my car all sneaky like. Don’t do that go to the backpackers base camp even if it is miles outta your way because the rangers there are dicks (not the hippy summer interns, but the assholes with the guns). So after getting kicked outta my car I walk 1.5 miles-ish to camp at night… I see eyes… I’m by myself… I make noise… eyes just stare… See that its only deer… I walk by still making noise… they hiss and get pissed… I ran. Then the next morning before my big adventure another ranger wakes me early to see if I have all the proper permits to be there. Argg!!

 So I walk 3 mileish to four mile trail to get up to glacier point. Folks the view up there is gorgeous, but don’t hike up 4 mile trail especially with a heavy bag on your back in upper 90 degree weather. A few points I really wanted to die. Way outta of shape plus months of binge drinking doesn’t help. I get to top, wonderful (after 6 hours of hiking uphill cutbacks… probably should just took that $20 shuttle there), asked a ranger for directions, they were wrong…wound up just sleepin in my sleeping bag on a day hiking trail. gosh…

Sore as hell the next morning I trudged on, living of canned beans and granola bars. My pics will explain the rest (I got a picture taken of me by a pro… does that make me a model?). Seriously tho, I highly recommend Yosemite to all, just make sure you stretch first.

Well after all the debauchery of that weekend. We stayed with a lovely couple that lived in Woodside (Neil Young has a ranch close there, but alas I din’t meet him). So I was kinda pampered as they were nice enough to take a stranger in. One of the hosts, Steve, even read us stories, one night I smoked fine cigars and and sipped fin whiskey with him (of course I donned my Mirage bathrobe). Me and the gals went on lovely hikes. Then mid week Megan and I left lil Bethan to meet up with some friends of a friend of mine in Oakland. 

These friends of a friend I’ve heard a lot about (I’ve even been in their house before) so it was good to put a face to the stories. One thing I got to say about Oakland is, it’s cool. I know it’s where crack is from and its got shady parts. But Oakland kinda reminded me of East coast cities (mostley cuz the bums mostly left you alone after you make aware to them you really don’t think they ran outta gas). The twins and their cousin (these are my friends of a friend, who are now my friends) showed me this neat lil site which everyone should check out before someone ruins it. Its called the Landfill.

And it’s pretty fuckin sick, basically after an earthquake happened in the 80’s they dumped bunch of it in the bay. So now it’s over grown, has graffiti everywhere, but the homeless took it over. Like its a colony, one dude made a concrete castle the rest live in tents or whatever, some even have solar panels. There’s even junk sculptures and a library.Its sick look at the photos. Then the next day was back in Frisky Frisco at the Green Tortoise.

Well weekend started out with me getting out of jail and with crab races and me getting ridiculously drunk (wow!!! what are the odds). Ok, So the getting out of jail was just a tour of Alcatraz, but it was fun to tell my parents that when my dad did his routine call of making sure I’m not dead. At the hostel Bethan’s team won the crab races and I tried teaching people at the hostel the great game of Matchbox, yeah that didn’t work. So I kept drinking and picked on a Swede that I just kept calling Blondie. Somehow I was even talked into going to a titty bar with him, but left immediately after hearing the word “cover”. I dislike covers.

The next day I took my car to the shop (Midas had to correct things), but fortunately it was right by the tattoo parlor and gave me a free night of parking. Yay. Seriously tho parking in San Fran is expensive so that was nice and my buddy John got a kickass tattoo from Blackheart Tattoo. Later that day was a hostel pub crawl which was neat checkin out some places. The best was the last bar which was a club and obviously a gansta ass club. So it was great to see a bunch of foreigners prove that white guys can dance. Later that night everyone went to bed, and I had a desire for ice cream and a beer. So I go out to grab that then step out of the store. A riot on the street breaks out in front of the hostel… and there I am just licking a ice cream cone (I always stand out like a sore thumb). After all that excitement it was time for bed right after I smoke a joint on the roof and get an Aussie way to high for his comfort zone. 

The next day we left the hostel and I had to say goodbye to the girls because they had to go home to the motherland and the only thing sensible to do at this point is go back-country backpacking by myself after months of binge drinking.

Sorry folks I get distracted easily, also I went off the grid for a long time, but fuck you if your still interested I got some more stories, Feel free to comment, ask questions about areas, or just blatanty insult me. Whatever you feel… Well more stories are gonna roll on in… lets hope I remember shit. Now its story time. YEAH!!!

I have a hard time finding time to write these days, which means I’ve been busy, which means better stories when I get around to writing them. Sorry I wish I had an excuse, but I don’t. But I am alive and travelling still. About to travel back east with a bearded Brit. Hmmm… That sounds interesting….. I’ll tell you a bit more about this chap after I catch up on roughly 5 intense and amazing installments of this epic odyssey. As for now, my knee is fucked (Vancouver… Saved for another time) and I’m about to head into the wilderness (so that time might be delayed). but enough about me, I know none of you care about my well being, It’s all about Ol’ Blue. Well shes doing good. Running like a champ and being loud because herexhaust broke off and my horrible cheap fixes aren’t holding. Well till I tumbl again. Cheers. 

Well Well Well, San Francisco… This Is just going to be part of Bay area story, But remember those crazy Brits from my earlier stories… They’re Back. We decided to go to San Fran earlier expected because we wanted Bethan to enjoy her birthday and possibly get some birthday sex (who doesn’t like that). So we arrive after getting a tip from my friend Joe about the International Hostel in San Francisco, he told me how Russ won a drinking game (shots of vodka till 6:30 am) so they had a free room for the night. So we arrive, even after being warned that if the owner was on duty we’d have to do 4 shorts upon arrival. Instead, I was showered with bromance as all the boys shook off their hangovers to greet me. It was a glorious reunion.

But before a big night drinking (free beer at hostel that night with a club down stairs) I had to go to the shop and get some pizza ingredients for some Birthday Pie. So my first walk down San Fran. Let me tell you what that is a diverse city. The first park we walked through had crackhead sleeping in the lawn, gay pride flags blowin in the wind, while a christian music video was being shot. Also the crazies there are rampant. Not the ones that just ask for money, but they’ll follow you down the street singing to you (they also have a bush man, which all natives know what I’m talking about). Got back, met some new people in the kitchen and then made a delicious pie. A lil after that is where shit hit the fan.

Seriously guys this place was a party hostel. We started out the night like any other night; with Matchbox (like we didn’t miss a day). Then shit got crazy (the pictures shall narrate).  And I think I’ll end the story like that cuz I’m fucking busy.