MY FULLY PACKED AND FULLY RAD 2004 TOMOS SPRINT

I woke up on the 4th with a slight hangover trying to find a reason not to leave again. I knew I had to leave that day or I may not make it to Headwaters. I packed up and said goodbye to Moe the cat and Brianna the girlfriend, driving off sad and misty eyed because I knew how much I was going to miss them. At about the time my eyes started to be cool I narrowly escaped a blast from the side by a SUV. The bastard came out of nowhere and almost took me out. Being only one town over I really started to doubt if I could make it the 700 miles ahead to wilderness school. Before this the farthest I’ve ever rode my moped was, like, 20 miles to Myron’s Mopeds where they fixed and sooped up the moped for a safe trip. My ass only got a little sore on that ride and although a few people suggested that I take a 100 mile practice run to gear up for this summer trip, I felt I would get enough practice by getting out there and doing it. So here I was, moped packed up and ready! I rode whimsically and nervously past LAX airport navigating through the crazy airport traffic and made it to Malibu for a stop. Hopping off near the Malibu Inn (a place where I couldn’t afford a burger on my fixed income), I got some Jack in the Box next door. I shoved a crap burger down my dumb throat and felt it quickly work its way to my shitshaft. I had no time for pooping because I Wanted to get past Santa Barbara and still had a ways to go so I hopped back on the hog. Down the street a ways I almost met my end once more. Out of fucking nowhere my engine seizes at about a whopping 34mph going downhill, locking up my back tire and skidding a great ways to the side of the road somehow managing not to crash. It had been a long day already and I didn't think I was going to make it. I unloaded the moped and looked it over; I guessed I had the back too packed so I shifted some weight to the front. With the moped locked up I was kinda glad because I thought I could just go home and get into a warm bed with cuddle buddies and gently snack on baguettes and brie cheese. Unfortunately my destiny of moped-Bigfoot-dreaming-come-true could not be escaped. I stepped on the pedal and pushed down hard, there was a loud click and the tire unlocked and became pedal-able so off I went. I was certain that crap would happen again when I was at top speed so I became extremely nervous while riding out the day. Soon came the sunset so I pulled off the road to a field and camped out with some bunnies and saw some fireworks go off in the distance. Right above me was the night sky with more stars than I’ve seen in a long time. Although I was road worn and lonely I could feel a surge of adventure and eagerness to get further north into Bigfoot territory.

the "LIVE YOUR DREAMS" mobile at LAKE CRESCENT, WA. later on in the story.

Headwaters (Bigfoot Country II; Happy Camp)

I had a few hours to make it to the Marble Mountains so I thoroughly enjoyed cruising highway 96. It would be one of the best cruises on my trip and luckily I loved and took in every second. I pulled off the road a little past the town of Hoopa and took a little bath in a rushing stream. The water was awesome and I even drank some, something that is virtually impossible to do back in the LA area. The weather was perfect and for a Saturday afternoon the traffic was all but nonexistent! I was tempted to stop at Bluff creek but figured I wouldn't have time for much exploring so I kept on. Finally I arrived at the town of Happy Camp ready to get some lunch. I stopped at Java Bob's Bigfoot deli because a Bigfoot deli sounded like the bomb to me! I ordered up a turkey sandwich and read the Bigfoot stuff on the walls. There was the same poster I saw in Willow Creek as well as postcards and T-shirts and stickers and a few articles on the subject. One of which describes a certain sighting that happened about two weeks before in the town I was in, Happy Camp. I asked the store owner, Bob, and he told me not only was there a sighting but a Bigfoot "hunter" has tracked one up into a cave and along with a biologist, plan to tranquilize it, take some blood samples, then release it back. I found that a little hard to swallow unlike the turkey sandwich which was quite good. After being told of my tale and quest on moped he suggested I return after wilderness school to check on the progress of the capture and possibly be interviewed for the local e-newspaper the Happy Camp Times. I agreed and was on my way again, this time with my head spinning about with what I just heard. Wow, is a Bigfoot really going to be captured? Swedish television crews had already been there covering this so it had to be a matter of time because we all know those Swedish television reporters are always ahead of the game. I wanted to stay and be apart of this historic event but had already planned and paid for Headwaters school so off I went vowing to return and find my own Bigfoot!

HAPPY CAMP POST OFFICE

(Wilderness School, week one)

I arrived late at one of the trailheads to the Marble Mountains that was the meeting spot for Headwaters school. I think just pulling up on a moped with all your gear strapped on and having your face bright red and peeling from sunburn and looking crazy is all you would need to see one's excuse for being late. I rode past the group and overheard "is he here for the school?", "he's gotta be"! After settling down, meeting people and eating, I was ready for a much needed rest. After it got dark we all gathered around the fire. Tim, the head instructor, asked us why we were all here. Everyone gave good answers my favorite being a young girl around 11 telling how she just wants to get dirty and climb trees and get dirty and walk barefoot and get dirty. That was pretty good, when it was my turn I really wasn't ready. I had barely even talked to anyone in a week and now I'm supposed to make sense after a 700 mile or so moped ride. Obviously everyone was curious why the guy who rode a moped all that way from LA was at this nature awareness class. I pulled no punches, "I'm here to learn skills that will help me flow and move through the forest better, so I can find Bigfoot". I think some may have looked around for hidden cameras at that point or knew for sure that I've lost my mind. Even when those words came out my mouth I thought they sounded ridiculous and cool. Wow! That's what I'm doing here, this is what I've been planning forever and here I am doing it! Crap, I'm living my dreams! It didn't feel that great though, because I was dehydrated and borderline delirious, but I perked up a bit listening to Tim talk about what we'd be doing. As he sat there Indian style around the glow of the campfire I couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance to the bear hunter guy in the movie "Jeremiah Johnson". He looked like an old rugged mountain man with his long white beard and mountain man-like hat, I knew I liked this guy already and that was good because I was about to spend two weeks learning with him and he already had my money! It was weird. He talked forever about everything, and was right on point. The state of our world, society, nature, concepts of the web of life, a lot of different things I've thought but couldn't put into words were laid out and it made perfect sense. Many of my friends couldn't understand why I would pay what I paid (about $750) and I kind of wondered too if it would be worth it, but by sleep time I knew I made an awesome decision.

MAYBE WHITE PEOPLE SHOULD STAY INSIDE

That night even though I needed rest so bad I actually didn't sleep too well. Since I showed up late I didn't get a chance to set up a sleep area so I tried to sleep under a truck but then an animal stepped on me so I slept on a picnic table, but then it rained so I just put my tarp over me since I didn't have a tent. It seemed like as soon as I fell asleep as was awakened by Julie, the nice cook, to get my ass off her table. Oh well, it was a good try for sleep. Our day started with breakfast then we packed up and hiked about 6 miles into the Marbles to an old hunting camp that was used by the Karuk Indians many years ago. When we arrived at the camp a rag tag bunch of Tom Sawyer type kids met us with bare feet and dirt all over. I thought, "this is going to rule".

THE EPICNESS OF THE MARBLE MOUNTAINS!

The next week did in fact rule. Tim suggested to us that while we were out there we eat plants, climb trees, and get dirty. Every night there was a salad that Walter, Tim's right hand man and plant expert, harvested and it was always the bomb. My favorite was the wild onion that grew up there, sweet and tasty! Besides learning native Marble mountain plants we also did a lot of exercises some of which bordered on gay hippy stuff but Tim was very good at not crossing that line. Those exercises turned out to be some of my favorites anyway. When I heard we were to look for a special rock that called out to us or that we had to go sit by a tree for an hour, my "logical" mind was having a fit. But by the end I have to admit there was something to it. For our special rock exercise we found a rock we liked and held onto it for most of the day for 3 or 4 days, then at the end of the week we all put our rocks into a bag which ended up to be about 30 rocks, then we were told to reach in and see how fast we could find our rock. It was weird to see the people who I would have guessed to be the most in touch with this stuff pull out their rocks in seconds flat. I got mine so fast that when I looked at it I didn't think it was mine. That was pretty cool but I was still skeptical so I tried it again and grabbed that sucker almost as fast again! I'm a believer!

In the mornings there were "Bear walks" where a small group of us stalked out looking to spy on Bears making their early morning rounds. I considered these to be Bigfoot walks and kept a keen eye out all around. My group didn't come across any Bears or Bigfoots, but another group did see a black Bear one morning. No one saw a Sasquatch, but Tim did tell me that the guy who drives the horse train with our camp gear into the mountains' Dad, saw Sasquatches twice during his years of horse packing in the Marbles! One time I guess he saw two peering through some bushes at him then they took off through the woods and he got a clear look and saw they were ape-like!

LOG RIDING AT SHADOW LAKE

My favorite lessons were the camouflage and stalking games which was basically ninja or Apache scout training! Covering ourselves in mud and sticks and belly crawling around trying to sneak up on people was a crapload of fun. Besides all the fun nature training some of the other highlights were drinking out of the fresh spring, seeing the sun rise in the mountains, smelling fresh bear shit, seeing an entire knotweed plant disappear by being sucked into the ground by a hungry gopher, almost stepping on then picking up and petting a baby grouse, finding a really old pressure flaked obsidian arrowhead, seeing a squirrel Tim found that was dropped from the sky by a hawk, swimming with salamanders at shadow lake, visiting an ancient Indian alter on a cliff, and meeting many like minded people from different backgrounds and realizing that the human race isn't that bad after all. Maybe we weren't all programmed to screw everything up.

There were many touching times during that week but oddly enough the most dramatic was the harvest of a 100 year old Angelica plant. I've read the secret life of plants and knew that plants were in a lot of ways similar to us but up until that point I never felt the loss of a plant as I had then. It was like killing an animal. The reason for the taking of the plant was so its roots could be dried for a year to use in future sweat lodge ceremonies. Apparently Angelica is a very powerful feminine cure all plant and its roots grow deep into the earth. We all gathered around the chosen plant in a circle bare foot and had digging sticks. We dug down around the roots as we sang a Indian prayer song. This whole experience was very surreal. I sat on the outside of the circle and felt part of some weird cult for a second, seeing all these people singing strangely and digging. When the plant was pulled out I felt tears come down my cheek. The plant might as well been screaming for its life and it probably was. I had respect for plants before but this put life in a new perspective for me being truly one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had. I don't know, maybe they were spiking the wild salad with psychedelics that day, but I can tell you that I'll never cut down a plant without a damn good reason again.

(Wilderness School, week two)

On the last day we gathered up our gear and made the site look better than when we arrived. The pack horses hauled our stuff in but we had to carry all our stuff back out. It took a while to hike out and I was very sore because my backpacks waist strap broke. At the trailhead Tim let me put my moped in his truck since it was just about out of gas. I rode from the Marble Mountains to the Mount Shasta camp with Walter in his "van palace", furnished with a hammock and booming sound system! I think Walter said stuff during the ride but I'm not sure because that sound system was loud and rocking!

FOREST IN A BARK TIPI AT HEADWATERS IN SHASTA!

When we got to Tim's land I couldn't believe it! There were awesome herb gardens, rock gardens, a stone in ground labyrinth, fresh drinkable stream water flowing through the land, bark teepees dotted across the landscape, a meditation area, plenty of woods to explore, a sweat lodge area and outhouses that give outhouses a good name. This week was wilderness skills class in which we learned to make fire with different types of wood tools, how to animal make traps, spears, tan animal hides, make shelters with various debris, and how to skin and gut an animal with the demonstration on a recently killed goat. The goat's name was Coco and she was chosen for slaughter because she was a fat lazy shit and a bad mother. We later scrapped and tanned her hide. Joe Dabil and Walter taught most of these classes. Joe has taking a liking over the years to the smell of rotting flesh and is more of a man then most. On the work table ready for skinning we found a squirrel, a dead gopher I think, the goat skin, a raccoon, a deer skin and a big bear skin that needed much work. The animals were skinned using obsidian which is kind of volcanic glass that is the sharpest thing you can get. Some modern surgeries are used with this. Scraping the rotting fat of dead animals in the heat taught me that making a piece of leather is a lot of hard smelly work! It's worth it though because commercially made leather is made with a lot of chemicals that degrade its natural qualities.

BEAR SKIN READY FOR SCRAPING AT HEADWATERS

The first day we made shelters out of bark slabs and debris that we could sleep in the rest of the week. I made my under a big Jeffrey pine tree and there was room enough to fit my backpack and stuff. It was pretty secluded but I did have a neighbor. He was a blind kid who shared my first name, Craig. Craig was there the week before in the Marble Mountains and crossed logs, climbed mountains and did everything everyone else did, just a little slower. It was pretty crazy that he made it through what he did since most of it was hard enough for those of us that could see!

BAD COCO! LEARNING HOW TO CLEAN AN ANIMAL

As the week wore to an end I guess the pinnacle of it would be the sweat lodge ceremony. My old roommate Danny would always tell me how great they were so I was always curious. The lodge itself was dome shaped and covered with a thick heavy canvas. Several large stones were heated up in a huge fire pit outside and we all got in our shorts while we waited for the stones to glow orange. There was a cold mountain stream that flowed around the back and some people dipped in first but it was too cold for me. Soon after Tim grabbed his drum and we all piled in the Teepee. When the door was shut it was so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of you! Tim talked a little about what was about to happen and to let him know if anyone needed to get out. He had brought in a drum and ordered the first stone to be brought in after we settled down. We welcomed the stone then he sprinkled some Angelic root on it and it made a sparkling mist that was magical! He poured some water over the stone and the steam rose. You could feel the heat almost immediately then he started off a song with the beating of his drum. It wasn't a song with words it was more like hi-ee-waka-hey- or something but it was awesome.

SWEATLODGE COVERED IN CANVAS

By the 9th stone the heat was unbearable. Tim and everyone were singing so loud it bordered on screaming. It's hard to describe just how crazy this was, the heat was hotter than hot, sweat poured out of every pore, my legs cramped, I felt that passing out was a very real possibility, and then, when it seemed like there was no way I could go on, it went on longer, then it was over. The door was opened, cool air came rushing in, and slowly we filed out. The first thing we saw on our way out was the moon shining off of Mount Shasta. It didn't quite look the same as before. I had to crawl around the side of the Teepee because my legs were still cramping. Finally I was able to pull myself up and stagger to the stream which by now was not as cold as it was 20 minutes before. I laid down face first and could feel my body drink in the water. In between breaths I looked around at the trees and plants that had the eerie glow of the moon on them, they almost looked alive as they swayed a bit; normally I would have felt a little creeped out but not now. I laid back down and swallowed up as much water as I could feeling as if my whole body was wrung dry of every bad thing and now was sponging up in this pure mountain water. This crap was about as epic as it gets. It changed my life somehow, I'm still not exactly sure how. I'm very grateful to Tim and all the volunteers that there is a school like Headwaters out there. The last night we spent around the fire saying thank yous and goodbyes. It was pretty heartfelt and sad but then Walter brought over a stump infested with huge 6 inch beetle larvae that we all roasted over the fire ate. I was glad I to of been at Headwaters but was eager to get back on the road for some mopeding and squatching!

THE ELUSIVE BLURRY "TIMSQUATCH"!

After Headwaters (Back at Happy Camp)

LEAVING HEADWATERS MT. SHASTA CAMP

I headed back towards Happy Camp to see how the capture of Bigfoot was doing. Unfortunately, as I was heading out of Yreka, one of the worst days of my trip started. I got a little more than 4 miles out when pop goes the tire. Now, it was friggin hot that day, not as hot as the sweat lodge but close, over 100 degrees. I pulled off the road about midday and took everything off the moped and got the tire patched about 45minutes later. I had some trouble, but it seemed to be fixed so I threw everything back on and took off down the road for about 30 feet. Flat tire again, long story short, 5 tire changes later and about 3 hours later, I finally got it! I put everything back on once again and started off, I got about 30 feet again, the tire went flat and I almost lost my shit. I'll admit that I cried a little but since I ran out of water earlier I sucked it up because I was afraid I'd dehydrate more. I figured that since these patches weren't working I had to go back to town. So I pushed my moped and all my crap the 4 miles back to town in the heat of Yreka with a flat tire. The first motel I saw I checked into even though I was against wasting money on such luxuries. I got myself all showered up, fed, and the proper patchwork I needed done. Then I spent the rest of the night watching animals on TV and talking to Brianna, so it turned out okay.

The next day I headed off and four hours later I made it back to Happy Camp. Almost as soon as I see the town center I shit you not my tire goes flat! Right before this happened I saw a sign for motorcycle camping so I followed the sign. Along my way I saw a nice little white trash family having a cookout I asked if they knew where the motorcycle camping place was and they laughed at me and said "keep walking" in a menacing kinda way. Apparently not everyone was happy in Happy Camp. The camp area was two houses down, so I popped in. It appeared like a redneck hideaway and not needing to hear "get that pussy bike outta here", after my long couple days, I kept pushing. Finally I hid the moped off the side of the road and set up camp near a small stream and partied with some mosquitoes all night, they actually probably had more fun than I did looking back on it all. The next day I headed to Java Bob's to see about my big newspaper interview as well as the capture of Bigfoot! I pushed the moped two miles into town and ordered a turkey sandwich and learned to my utter surprise that Bigfoot was not officially captured! It seemed weird that I was dedicating my summer to look for Bigfoot and here I am in this little town and there is supposedly the Bigfoot story of a lifetime!

HAPPY CAMP ACTUALLY HAS AN ART GALLERY! AS WELL AS A GIANT METAL SASQUATCH GUARDING IT!

Well, I found out the guy who had Bigfoot cornered was Tom Biscardi, whose name rang a bell at the time but I couldn't quite place it. It was hard to get a straight answer as to what happened with this whole sighting thing. The rumor I heard was that a forest service worker and another car behind them spotted an eight foot creature cross the road up in front of them; one of the cars stopped at Java Bob's and told what happened. Eventually Tom Biscardi comes in and tracks it to a cave where he gets a biologist to get a tranquillizer ready for it. I may have got the "facts" mixed up a little but it was something like that. I felt there was something fishy about the whole thing and it seemed that people were kinda tight lipped about what was going on. It was so hot at Happy Camp I couldn't see how a Bigfoot would be dumb enough to live there. Biscardi's theory is that they migrate there in the summer but this made no sense to me. As the Bigfoot story started to unfold and more people in town were saying they saw one I just kinda lost interest in being in Happy Camp. Tom Biscardi and his Great American Bigfoot Research crew were days away from coming to town to throw down on this Bigfoot capture, and though it seemed like something to stick around for, I was itching to go further north.

I called my main moped man Shaun down at Myron's Mopeds and he sent out two new tubes muy rapido! Being back in town for a day I noticed that I was kind of a celebrity as several people were like "you're the guy that rode a moped all the way here huh"? One dude looked just like Gallagher and kept trying to keep his bald head out of the scorching sun while introducing me to Java Bob customers entering the store as the moped guy from "Smell-A". He was shirtless with ripped jean cutoff shorts but still resembled Gallagher as he offered me to go toking on a joint. When I declined he told me he was just kidding anyways, I told him I was just kidding too, then he asked me if I wanted to again and I said "no thanks"! This rad dude told me a good place to go swimming but I figured I should get out into some woods. Happy Camp is surrounded by the Marble Mountains, Trinity Alps, and Siskiyou Wilderness. Java Bob and his family were awesome enough to let me store my moped in the garage for a few days. So I went Squatching.

(Happy Camp pt. III)

SMELLS GOOD ENOUGH TO EAT ALMOST!

I walked a few miles out of town and explored some hills and streams and woods for clues. I found the biggest freshest best smelling pile of bear crap that I have ever seen. That pile of turd was as close as I got to an animal bigger or smellier than me. I spent the hot days in the cool river that years ago was mined for jade, and in fact was one of the biggest producers of jade in America. I cooled out in there during the day, looked for Bigfoot clues during dusk and dawn and watched the stars at night. By the end of three days when my new tubes should have arrived I was ready to go. Bigfoot "hotspot" or not, I was ready to move on. Even though I was impressed by the mopeds ability to climb mountains at about 5-10mph so far, I decided to go straight north towards Portland instead of going out of the way to the Cascades. Since there wasn't too many good Squatch spots my chosen way I decided to just get there as fast as I could.

Myron's package arrived on time and I popped on that new tube with a smile, had another turkey sandwich made with refinement by Bob's son, who appeared to be "mad dogging" me when I wasn't looking. When I looked at him he still had his mad face on then upon realization of such a gaze he smiled. This had happened a couple of times and made me happy, because I love shit like that. Later he told me a tale of coming face to face with a cougar in his backyard. Maybe that cool, semi creepy gaze saved his life that day.

I sat down for an interview with the editor of the Happy Camp News online newspaper, Linda. She reminded me of an old whimsical hippy lady who seemed wise with knowledge yet dazed at the same time. She had a notebook and pencil and asked me what brought me to Happy Camp on a moped. I told my story noticing that she barely wrote anything down. I just figured she was one of those people who retain all knowledge in their minds. But 3 months later when I checked the website my story was still not there. I assume that either the version of my story was too boring for her or she forgot everything I told her. Last time I checked the site there was a story of a dude who threw an open can of beer at a cop who then let loose the police dog chasing the guy into the Klamath River where they both drowned. A sissy 800 mile moped ride can't compete with that!

Right after I finished my interview and my sandwich, this old fuck of a man rolled in who looked like an old time miner. Bob introduced him to me and as he reached his hand out there was a pause before the shake when I noticed his hand was a stump with a couple small protruding finger- looking things. I thought about my turkey sandwich, then I thought about the turkey gizzard hand in front of me, not wanting to be rude I reached my hand out just as the man yelled, "oh come on! Shake this god damn thing", as he chased me. My immediate response to myself was that this guy rules. I shook his hand thing, pleased to meet a great human. I also met a relative of Bob's, Bill, who oversees Curly Jack campground down the road and invited me to stay the night there. Saying my good byes and thank you's one last time I headed over to the campground and spent another night on the top of a picnic table with a mosquito net rigged up over my head looking up at the stars. In the morning Bill woke me up and we hung out in his RV. He was a retiree who went around the country in his RV with his wife to be hosts at different campground and camp for free or get paid if they're lucky. They only had to keep toilet paper in the bathrooms, shit off the walls and kids quiet after 10pm. Bill reminded me of Hank from the King of the hill cartoon. There was a Christian rafting group staying there and he knew their schedule well. "Let's get over there by 8 so we can scam some breakfast of these guys". He was a reminder to me that, much like my Grandparents that you can still be rad when you're old. We scuffed down some crappy breakfast from some less then thrilled Christian rafters, some of which looked like they were in a Christian metal band or something. Soon after I had to say my good byes and thanks to Bill and his wife and head off to Oregon!

(Repeated crashes, "I'm not homeless")

The first hour was a nice drive, I went past some of the spots I camped at, saw a cool deer, got some water from a stream, was glad to be heading out of the heat, or so I thought. Then at Caves Junction I went off the road, hit some sand and dumped the moped. Luckily there wasn't a car in back of me but there was a car coming towards me. I was back up before the gas could even leak out with just a scraped knee and slightly bent pedal. This was the second time I crashed so far. The first time was perfect, it was about an hour past San Francisco and there were a few cars behind me as we went up this hill, I was going around 15mph but the road was so narrow I couldn't pull over and no one could pass me. Just to my right was a steep grassy bank that went sharply uphill. I checked my mirror to see how many cars were pilling behind me and then accidentally went off the road. Luckily I was able to slow down enough and fall into the bank so perfectly that it must of looked like I did it on purpose! I just sat there smiling and waving to the cars as they past by me all the while looking like I was just chillin' on the side and shit. But this time in Cave junction my dumb ass got cut up on the hot ass pavement. I even ripped up my gay camoflauge army pants.

I trotted along to Grants Pass strong and proud. I would have liked to rest, but the town was hot and sucky. Right off the bat I met a scumbag who told me the local cops are bullshit. He said they'd try to bust me for nothing, he then left me with the words, "I'm homeless too bro!" I yelled back, "I'm not homeless; I got a tarp and know how to make a moped lean-to!" He yelled back "the lean-to has stood the test of time brother". I thought, "So have scumbags"! Speaking of which, I decided that I needed to get rid of my giant Indian made machete since I haven't used it yet and didn't want a reason to get messed up with by the police. Upon seeing a metal head dude and I asked him which way it was to the highway and if he wanted to buy a kick ass machete. I offered it for the price of $5, he went to his car and gave me about $10 in change, a phone card, and a little pocket knife. Awesome! I was on my way. I soon headed out of that crap town out onto interstate 5, which was a mistake but the fastest way out.

MOPED LEAN-TO

Driving down the road is nerve racking enough trying to keep from getting sucked into windy drafts, avoiding potholes and animals and whatever else. Driving a moped on a busy Interstate is a whole other beach. Even though there is more room to drive on the shoulder, huge trucks going about 60-70mph past you one after the other is a mindfucker. I'm trying to think happy thoughts of having a rad girlfriend back home and an asskicking family back east and possibly riding a Bigfoot in the near future, but a few feet, sometimes a few inches to my left is certain death. Some assholes even added to the dilemma by beeping as they went by. I began to feel like a chinchilla on speed. I kept on trucking as far as I could and soon pulled off into the town of Wolf Creek. Now, I was only there for about 10 minutes but I suspect that they know how to party in Wolf Creek. I stopped at the local gas station convenience store and saw various biker gangs roll in, a couple older punker types, a VW bus with hippies from a local commune, and a couple Hessian dudes that looked like they were in the movie River's Edge. I made a mental note that in the future I need to visit Wolf Creek.

This part of Oregon pretty much from the California border straight up to Portland has had Bigfoot sightings but not a great many recent sightings. Right then my goal was to get to Portland as soon as I could, rest up at my old friend Kalashia's house and check out the city for possible relocation with my perfect princess love goddess of a girlfriend and story editor Brianna.

PRINCESS LOVE GODDESS AND STORY EDITOR, BRIANNA

Second Leg, Northern California to Portland

To once again avoid the 5 interstate I decided to take a "shortcut" through a state forest. Four hours later at about 11pm I ended up where I should have been three hours before. Not only were the forest roads not labeled, they weren't on the map, which incidentally blew out of the little yellow basket I have attached to my handle bars affectionately referred to as my "bitch basket". It was dark, late, I had no map and when I finally found my way out of the forest I was so worn out and ready for sleep I could have pulled over anywhere. I decided to keep going until I found the perfect spot, not wanting to get woken up through the night by people or animals. At around midnight I thought I was onto something. I saw from a great distance huge amounts of light illuminating the sky. I imagined a Super Wal-Mart with plenty of room behind it to build a great sleep shelter. About 15 minutes later I rounded a bend and was sadly mistaken. The lights were that of a 24hr plywood making factory. Maybe it was my state of mind but this whole thing was very eerie and creepy to me. I wanted to get far away and never build anything out of plywood again, not even a skateboard ramp. I rode on past all this bullshit with a very weathered mind and body to the town of Riddle, riding around trying to solve the riddle of finding a good hiding spot to bed down in. There was something unsettling about the town and I got a feeling it was a redneck speed soaked place. I decided I couldn't stay there and rode on. Unfortunately with no map I got lost again this time in a weird ass trailer park. I know that you wouldn't believe this, but guess what happened!? A shirtless mullet dude burst out of the shadows on a beat up bicycle and was riding neck and neck with me. He grinned like a maniac and reached out with one hand to try to grab my arm! This was some wicked bullshit so I full throttled it and got out of there. It was like the twilight zone, almost every house had its lights on and it was one o'clock in the morning. I took off down a long dark road with visions of dancing scumbags nipping at my heels and falling off my moped into the bushes upon getting out of their sight and sleeping where I fell. At this point I had been on the road for at least 12 hours and somehow I circumnavigated back to Riddle. This was not cool. I turned the other way out of town and finally got to a 24hr. gas station and got a new map. I saw the layout of the current Hell I was in and wondered how to get out. Soon enough a car full of punk kids got out of a car and I figured they were the ones to ask. I asked the kid wearing a Misfits skull shirt who I thought was wearing eye makeup where a good place to camp was. As he told me I realized he didn't have makeup on, he had one of the worst black eyes I had ever seen and pointed me in the direction of the town Myrtle Beach where there was a campground. It was about 4 miles away. I didn't think I could make it, but I tried anyways.

Making it just fine to the campground I found that is was fully booked because of a 3 day music festival that was going on. Wondering if I was going to get any sleep at all I went the Seven Eleven and got some shitty pizza. While I was eating outside an old hippie dude with his dog inquired about my existence, I told him my story and we talked about music for awhile. He told me how he was washing dishes one day in the 70's listening to Blue Oyster Cult and out of nowhere was "turned on". I then related how tired I was and he suggested that I don't sleep, stay up all night with him and his dog and wait until the music festival starts the next day and lay down in the middle of the field to let the music go through my body and take me away. I said goodnight, went back to the campground and passed out next to a telephone pole.

After a long cold sleep I woke up somewhat refreshed. Even though I probably could make it to Portland that night I decided to take it easy and break it up into two days and save what was left of my mind. My friend Kate offered me a place to stay in Eugene but I decided to keep going to the town of Corvallis. After arriving there I called Brianna and complained of my last 24hrs and wished I could transport back to Long Beach. Driving around Corvallis for a little while I decided to keep going. I saw a state park on my map just past town. I figured I could make it there before dark so went for it.

(Attack of the Christians)

I got to the park right before it closed and drove around looking for a place to set up camp. It was a very small state park and there was no over night camping so I was looking for a place to hide out. I drove past the Host of the campground's RV and saw he had a motorcycle. I got the feeling that I should just hide somewhere but decided to take a different route and knocked on the door. It was obvious that there was no one there so I prepared to go find my hideout spot. Just then an odd looking man pulled up in his truck to an odd looking dude, me on a moped. I introduced myself and told him my story and asked if I could campout even though it was against the rules. Bikers hate rules, even if they're the kind of bikers that don't ride Harley's, so I figured I was in. The awkwardness was building as he paced around my moped and eyed me up and down without saying a word. The silence was making things weird and I figured I should say something to convince him that I wasn't a psycho. I opened my mouth and muttered nonsense. Going to plan B, I just stood there and tried to look innocent. He then took his turn at muttering something and introduced himself as Dwaine and indicated we should walk to the back of his RV where there was a patch of grass for me to plop down on. Even though I was hoping to be camped in the little woods, this would do just fine. I started to put down my tarp and sleeping bag when he asked if I could lock up the gate for him when he left. My heart leaped! I could play around in here fucking with raccoons and whatnot all night! But then my heart sank when I heard him say "that is unless you don't mind some good Christian company and want to come along".

It was about that time that I noticed his shirt was a Gold's Gym rip off with Jesus doing a push up, bloody, with a cross on his back and the words "LORD"S GYM, his pain your gain"." Holy shit", I thought," I'm about to get Christianized!" Not wanting to be rude I politely declined, saying I need some rest. He piped back with "oh, that's okay, we won't be long, hop in!" By now I was visibly bummed as I climbed into his pick up truck. I didn't put on my seatbelt cause I read about some serial killer who rigged his seatbelts so they snap on but not off. Then I kept one hand close to my knife 'cause this guy had something creepy about him, that glazed stare, that something lurking in the shadows feeling. He told me we were on our way to pick up his wife who was horse back riding. I started to feel a little relieved. Then he went on to tell me how seeing me on my moped reminded him of a not too long ago time when he left his first wife. All he had was his bike and he packed it to the brim with his belongings and rode off into the sunset...... to his parent's house never feeling so free. I was all "right on" and he was all "the lord works in mysterious ways". Avoiding that subject as much as I could, I stared out into the surrounding country that he was calling nice but all I could see was logged to wilderness free death.

We finally arrive at this farmhouse in the middle of nowhere and I'm wondering if he wants eat me. There's a weird bearded man, that man's wife, Dwain's wife, another lady whose house it is, and her cowboy son who I predict will move to West Hollywood or Long Beach and party shirtless all night with dudes in about 3 years. He introduces me to them and tells my tale. He over exaggerated how much stuff was strapped to my moped and then says that he promised me a "devotion". I don't recall any such promise and my mind raced to figure out what that meant. I was sure it was some Christian ritual thing but it could also mean they want to eat me. They seemed too nice to eat people but maybe cannibals are a nice bunch. The lady of the house offered me some food and warned me that I might not be used to such unusual dishes (it was vegetarian). Since I love vegetarian food I got excited and eagerly went to dish up some hot stuff. Veggie dogs, potato salad and some fruit wasn't the most exotic dish I ever had, but it was more than good enough for my road weary self. I sat at the table and noticed everyone pray before they ate, wanting to be a good guest I prayed that everyone got enough to eat and didn't want to eat me and then said thanks to the pagan god of Nature for the food I was about to get gnarly on. As we ate and I told my story I could feel that they wanted me to renounce my sins or something. Its not that I have a problem with Christians, I think if Jesus was around today I would have met him at a house party and liked him. The problem I have is with anyone who forces their views through violence or dickheadedness. I've found out through the years that Christians are just like everyone else, simply stated, some suck and some rule. On the other hand I've never met a Buddhist I didn't like. Well, actually I've only met three. After dinner the soon-to-be-gay-and-disappoint-the-family-immensely-son went to bed. Dwain was lying on the couch with his wife and I was past ready for bed. I thought the whole devotion thing was going to get side stepped so of course it wasn't.

I was brought into the piano room and everyone picked up a psalm. Then they decided to read me a story first. It was a ridiculous tale of doughnuts and push ups. Set in a college, the professor Dr. Christianson offers his class donuts and when they refuse he makes one of the students do push ups. Soon this guy is doing a million push ups because people don't want to eat a bunch of donuts. They're also crying for this guy that has taken on the task of doing push ups for "their sins". This story went on for way too long and in the end didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but what do I know. After that story we all picked up psalm books. I could handle a couple songs, but I was hoping that was going to be it. I could see it in their eyes that I was a lost soul, searching for something, needing to repent my evil past sins and they were going to save me from eternal hellfire. In a way I guess they were right. I kind of was lost, being that they drove me way out into the middle of nowhere, but I knew exactly what I was searching for. A giant North American ape about 6-8 feet tall that is commonly known by the name Bigfoot or Sasquatch. As far as my sins of drinking, frolicking with devil women and stealing from "the Man", I didn't need someone to do push ups until their dumb shoulders fell off. I was already sick of these things and moved on in my life. Sure, I looked like a scumbag, but inside I felt golden. I knew the chances of finding what I set out to find were fairly slim, and the risk of death or injury quite high, but for some reason I had to keep going. Back at home I had a beautiful lady waiting for me as well as an indifferent cat who I think started to like me before I left. That was there, and this was now. And right now, then, I was flipping through a psalm book trying to figure out how to read sheet music.

They asked me if I had a favorite song and I said "well, they all look pretty good". The nice-feed-you-dinner lady began playing the piano and everyone began cheerfully singing along to the chosen song. I tried to sing but mostly listened. I thought about piping in real loud to try to out sing everyone but figured I would start laughing. It didn't matter though, with the excitement of all the singing, all I could think about was laughing. I could feel it start to build, first with a slight smile, then with a bigger smile. And then almost like my mind said "hey man check this out", I looked over at the odd looking bearded man stoically singing along in his deep voice and envisioned so perfectly that I think he may have been there, my friend Hal, sitting beside this guy giving me the finger. The imagined sight was too much and I started laughing so hard I cried and jerked about in my chair. I tried my best to hide my face in the book but it was so obvious that when the song ended they decided to call it a night.

They asked me what I thought of the songs and I smiled and nodded my head and murmured "uh huh….yes" and that was that. We said our goodnights and drove back to the park and no one tried to eat me or nothing! I was glad to have survived the devotion and really, it wasn't that bad. The people were very nice and just showed me their way of living without being preachy. Arriving at the RV, Dwain told me I could sleep inside and insisted that I did. I explained I couldn't relax unless I could look up at the stars throughout the night. I took off my shoes and climbed in my sleeping bag clutching my knife as I fell asleep.

In the morning when Mr. Sun painted some golden rays across my face I woke up with a new found vigor. I was ready to get to Portland and explore. Dwaine was up and apparently he and his wife don't share a bed, they sleep in different sides of the RV or at least did this night. Dwaine insisted that I take a shower and I figured a warm shower is something I might not get for awhile so I should; I got all naked and hopped in the shower only to realize that it trickles out cold water only. Freezing I washed my hair and got out. Dwaine made a pot of coffee for me while in the shower which was nice, but the night before he asked if I wanted coffee in the morning and I told him I don't drink it. He looked bummed and told me he doesn't drink it either and it would be a shame to waste it all. I thought about the story they told the night before about the dickheaded professor who bought everyone doughnuts and made someone do push ups when they weren't eaten. Having learned my lesson well I drank the damn coffee. I figured I would have a cup or two and be off. Dwaine was a hard hitter though and had "the greatest story ever told" on vhs and I was immediately swept away. I drank the whole pot of coffee and made it through the first tape but before the second tape could be put in there were some strange people arriving at the park. Dwaine being the park's host had to sort out this mess. Apparently a church group reserved a spot to do baptisms in the stream and another group was at the spot by the water. The church lady was having a fit and giving Dwain and his wife a hard time. I have to admit I wanted to stick around and see all this baptism stuff go down but I was so amped up on coffee I had to get the hell out of there. With the proper good byes and thank you's I was on my way once more!

(Arriving in Portland I)

BELA

I got to Portland without much fuss except for my crazy coffee dump along the way. I wasn't too sure where I would be staying but since I had a couple friends, I wasn't worried. Besides, there's plenty of camping to be had in Portland. I called my old friend from Connecticut, Kalashia who recently moved up there, and she informed me that she has an apartment that she's never at that I'm more than welcomed to stay at! I found my way to the southeast side of P-town with no trouble and met up with Kalaisha. Even though I had only been on the road a few days since Headwaters I was still pretty wiped out. Kalaisha told me she was seeing a dude named Patrick and was always at his house so basically I would have the apartment to myself. Her cat Bella however would be keeping me company, Bella was a fluffy fucker who I took an immediate liking to and petted the crap out of. Most of my six days or so in Portland was a blur, I went out a little but mostly stayed in the apartment and listened to Kalaisha's Misfits box set, singing along to the words I guess I had wrong all these years. I was invited out to meet her scooter gang friends and wasn't too sure if there was going to be a moped vs. scooter thing going on, but took a chance anyways. From what I gather there are some places where mopeders hate scooters and scooters hate mopeds. Some people don't know the difference between the two. A scooter goes around 60-70mph, is highway legal and costs a few thousand for a new one. A moped goes 30-35mph is not highway legal, is a two-stroke 50cc engine, has pedals so you can ride it like a bike, and costs around $700-$1,000 new. It's cool to go fast, but really a moped is all I need.

KALASHIA WAS HAPPY TO HAVE ME IN TOWN

After flying through town trying to keep up with Kalaisha on her scooter we got to the bar and partied down scooter style. I did not get punked for having a moped and all went well, I tried my best to down some Pabst but found I couldn't. This would be the start of me losing all my drinking skills I've gathered through the years. I spent all that glorious time in nature and experienced the magic of a sweat lodge, but here I was with a pitcher of Pabst. I never felt more bored of alcohol. I talked with some dudes and they seemed pretty cool, one of them, Bob, loves mopeds and wants to start a chapter of the Moped Army there in Portland because for some reason there was none. Moped Army is a cool website that offers a forum for moped riders from all over and has different chapters in different states. We talked about mopeds and scooters for awhile and I told of my plans to head north to the Gifford Pinchot national forest where in 2001 The Skookum cast was made.

Named Skookum because it was cast in Skookum meadows, the Skookum cast is a huge plaster cast that apparently shows where a Sasquatch sat down and had some fruit. Skookum is a Native American word for powerful. Supposedly this area of the forest is really creepy and I wanted to spend some time in there. While in Portland I tried to locate a good map. Needless to say, I couldn't find one and figured I would just wing it. As the weekend was coming up Kalashia told me that she was going south to a scooter rally campout and I should go. Her friend Bob reminded me that there was a moped rally in Seattle that weekend as well. Feeling recouped and ready for action I decided to head for Seattle. I would have to skip going to Gifford Pinchot but this would mean that I could go to the Olympic forest after Seattle! I always wanted to go there but didn't think I could make it this summer on my moped. If I timed it right I could stop at Gifford Pinchot on my way back to Portland where I would meet up with Brianna and her "band", the Duo known as Foxy Autopsy. They were doing a Northwest tour from Southern California to Vancouver then home and I would be going home with them. I had a little over 2 weeks to pack in as much Squatchin' and mopeding as I could.

Third Leg, Two Weeks Left

(Blood Drive III; Seattle Moped Rally day I)

After figuring a road out of Portland that wasn't a death highway, I went over a big beautiful bridge to cross the Columbia river and then navigated up through Longview Washington until I found myself near an Army base outside of Tacoma. It was getting dark and I found a nice patch of pine trees to make a bed under. That night was one of the worst nights of my outdoor sleeping life! I maybe caught an hour or two of continuous sleep; it was attack of the mosquitos! They were well organized, plentiful, and demanding. They not only got around my mosquito netting but they also got into my sleeping bag and I think even my underwear. Upon checking my journal I found that the next morning I wrote, "fuck those fucks. I got bites everywhere, this trip is stupid. I'm in Burger King and I love it! Fuck nature and Bigfoot, there, I wrote it". I guess its nights like those that make a person better at camping. I took more time in the future picking better spots to avoid all night mighty mosquitto frenzies.

The morning drive to Seattle from Tacoma was an easy one so I rode the grumpiness out. I noticed that all I wrote down to meet up with the fellow mopeders in Seattle was the word Vashon Island and a time. I had no contact number or address, but figured this shouldn't be a problem. I got to downtown and rode around a bit until I was tired and a little lost. There was a bridge and I wasn't sure if I was supposed to cross it so I decided to stop along the sidewalk. Soon a cool dude construction type of guy walked by and complimented me on my moped. We began talking and he said a phrase I was getting used to hearing on this trip, "is that a moped? I used to have one of those!" apparently everyone and their mother used to have one. I told of my journey and current plight and just as he was telling me how to get to the proper ferry terminal I heard the unmistakable sound of a lone moped off in the distance. We both stopped talking and turned to see a moped cruise by. I grabbed my helmet, yelled "thanks dude!" and took off after that moped. I crossed the bridge after it and finally met up at a red light. We introduced ourselves and he said "yea, just follow me! It's right down the road; I think we can make it". The ferry line was fairly long but we went around it and met the group just a couple minutes before the ferry was to begin to load up. I took this time to reflect on the unseen powers of the universe and nature that got me here. Looking around, there had to be at least 50 mopeds. So far on my trip I only saw one in Portland when I was walking around. Now I get to ride in a full pack taking over the town, swarming and destroying! I didn't plan on making it to this meeting because I wanted this trip to be more of a Bigfoot search so I didn't take note of the exact date this event was taking place. Now, here I am by plan or default, I wasn't sure. As for Squatchin', I haven't done much so far, but this moped rally was just for the weekend so it wouldn't be taking up too much time.

FERRY RIDE TO VASHON ISLAND!

The ferry docked, the mopeds revved up and it was apparent that it was party time. We all took off in unison avoiding collisions somehow and it was pure beautiful magic. There were old mopeds, new mopeds, fast mopeds, slow mopeds, and everything in between. The combined engine noise of all these mopeds (65) was something equivalent to the noise all those mosquito's made in my ear the previous night and then some.

JOEY AND HIS BOOM BOX RIDE

We rode to a Veterans hall type place home to "the Eagles" for a cookout and obstacle course and what not. I guess my strange appearance along with all my gear and California license plate gave me away as someone who traveled quite a distance. Some of the Moped Army's Seattle chapter, "the Mosquito Fleet" our hosts for this event introduced themselves and welcomed me to their get together. I met most of the other Mosquito Fleeters and was glad to be in the company of some good dudes and dudettes. I scanned about the outside area to see if Bryan of Myron's was there. I asked around remembering that he was coming up with "the Creatures of the Loin", a San Francisco chapter of Moped Army. Bryan left a little after me from LA too and was heading to this meeting. One of the Mosquito Fleet asked me if I met the Creatures from San Francisco, they were the only other ones to actually have mopeded many miles to get there. Upon our meeting I could tell that they were my kind of dirt bags. There were five of them that made the drive, Benji, Jay, Gram, Newport and Lee. I asked them what happened to Bryan and they told me the story of one of the girls of the gang crashing on the Golden Gate Bridge on their way up causing her to head back to the city. That "bad omen" sent Bryan on his way home too. Apparently too, something went wrong with Bryan and the Creatures, I guess there was a falling out, the next morning he said goodbye in Chinese or something and took off. He still made an epic journey going all the way from LA to past SF and back, that's a lot of gusty wind and cliff battling! I've learned that the road can be a strange mind bending experience that could leave best friends hating on one another, but in my book, people that can do 1,000+ miles on a moped should be able to squash the beef. It was really too bad Bryan couldn't of made it because there was some fun moped times going down. However, despite "good dude" company I was a little road worn from the past couple of days, not to mention sleep deprived no thanks to the other kind of "mosquito fleet" that ate me alive the night before.

CREATURES BEFORE THEY LEFT FOR SEATTLE! BRYAN IS ON THE RIGHT END. picture courtesy of creatures of the loin

When the slow race of who could get across the finish line last started I was front row and ready to check this action out! Then there were obstacle course events with jumps even! The best jump by far was by one of the "Tom Cruisers" from Arizona, Ryan Murray, he was the only one to hit the impossible staircase jump at full speed. Unfortunately the plank that on top of the staircase gave out and he crashed right into and over the three stepped staircase and got messed up for the weekend. An extremely brave attempt though! After some more drinking, eating, and moped fun we all drove back to the ferry and then onto some Seattle nighttime fun.

KILLA CURT JUMPING THAT CRAP!

Ending up at the Mosquito Fleets favorite bar, the Mars Bar, there was some musical rock action to be had. I forgot the name the bands that played but I still had a good time. Opting for rolling around in the grass outside to endless drinking I found some contemplating time for myself to think about just what the hell I was doing. Part of me felt gay, not in a dude loving way but more of a wearing camouflage and riding a moped around looking for a possible mythological creature way. I was also filled with a huge sense of pride which I always thought was, well, gay to have. But somehow I felt it was okay for me to have at the moment. I set out on this ridiculous trip because it was my dream to do so. No matter how "gay" it was, it was my little crappy little dream and here I was all the way in freaking Seattle by way of moped, just miles from the Olympic forest a place I've wanted to visit for years and I was doing it! I was also taking it with a grain of salt. It wasn't a big deal; lots of people do crap like this. Besides up to this point I still haven't spent much time in the woods looking for you know who. I was getting extremely anxious to go onto the exploring wilderness part of my trip but also enjoyed meeting my new found friends.

Outside the bar was just a good of a hangout spot. It was cool to see 50 mopeds parked in a line and people checking them out. There were awards to be given away and such as best crash, most creative moped, ugliest moped, best stock moped, etc. Now we were all wondering about voting. Not too long after the votes were in and awards were handed out. Joey the kid with a boom box mounted on his moped who was asleep on the ground along side of it won the "most creative" one, the guy who crashed all crazy from the Tom Cruisers won "best crash", a rad dude named Justin won "people's choice" and I won "ugliest moped". Disgusted, I thought "I came all the way from LA for this crap"! And I threw the award through the window of the bar and kicked over the line of mopeds which caused them to fall on Joey who was gently resting. I then flew into a rage and started punching and puking on people nonstop for hours. Alright I was lying about that last sentence or two. But ya, I did win ugliest moped and even voted for myself.

MY BEAUTIFUL UGLIEST MOPED AWARD

(Seattle Moped Rally, day II)

After the festivities it was off to a party with karaoke. Being quite crappy at Karaoke I opted for some night-night time at "the house of sin" where some of the Mosquito Fleet lived. Hearing the name "house of sin" and staying in my fair share of punk houses I expected the worse. To my relief it was a paradise! Carpeted floors with running hot water! Wahoo! There was even a great view of the Olympic Mountains! I slept dang well and woke up refreshed and ready for more moped action. The Creatures were stationed here as well as a couple "Tom Cruisers" from Arizona and Killa Curt from Chicago. I talked a little with them about Bigfoot stuff and my trip. Killa Curt asked me where I was headed next. I paused for a moment and looked out the big bay window to the west and pointed to the Magnificent Olympic Mountains. "There", I said. "I should be there in a day or so's time". Surprisingly they were quite supportive and even wished they could join along. I myself was ready to bolt off into those darn mountains, spar with a cougar, fish with my hands, not shave, and find myself a Squatch buddy. But there was still another full day of a moped rally in front of me and soon we all rallied up and headed for downtown. I couldn't get over the well organized Mosquito Fleet rally. They guided us through the city with easeful mastery. About four of them had modified mopeds that went pretty damn fast probably 45-50mph or more and at every intersection they'd block off traffic as 50 or more mopeds went whizzing by, then after the last moped crossed the intersection they'd fly up past us all to the next one and do the same. It was awesome! These guys didn't take any shit and protected our big little moped group like careful Nurturers.

"I THINK I'M GONNA TAKE ME A MOPED RIDE..........SOME PEOPLE MIGHT SAY IT'S LIKE SUICIDE" ---MOPED RIDE (BRYAN'S ONE MAN BAND)

Eventually we ended up downtown and watched people get fish thrown at them at the famous Pike Place fish market, then got some lunch and watched tourists and stuff. My favorite was the Japanese tourist girls that looked "hyper electric cool" in their weird rave gear/party in America outfits. Not having much money for festivities however, I soon longed for some library time. I was not alone in my Library needs and a small Library group was assembled which included Simon King, the guy behind all this Moped Army jazz. Our wandering about took us on a couple detours one of which was into a top secret bank office with a beautiful skyscraper view of the city! By the time we got to the Library it was closed but we still enjoyed its marvelous architecture from the outside. After some more sightseeing we rounded out the day watching the sunset at a nice little park overlooking the harbor and city. After dusk me and Jay of the Creatures were practicing some stealth walking and sneaking up on people and before long no one could keep their back turned on anyone with out getting poked with a stick or finger. Oh the good times to be had during magic hour! A little after the sun was completely down a few of us headed out.

On our way out of the park someone started yelling crap at us, and like clockwork a moped broke down and we all stopped so it looked like we wanted to throw down. I think it was Billy of the Mosquito Fleet who broke down at the best possible time. We all parked near each other and waited to see if the moped could be fixed. Shitty comments were yelled from the tree line by several whack dudes by now. There had to been at least 4 of them and there were 6-7 of us. They were yelling the typical kind of stuff like "get a real bike, faggots" but they also yelled out some new ones like "you guys probably suck at a lot of stuff". The Creatures had a chain and their "fighter plus" knifes, (dual bladed wonder knifes) and I had my two knives. The jock guys had pipes and who knows what else. As time was going on it was looking like fighting would be inevitable. The moped would not start and the ambulance (the broken moped pick up vehicle that was actually an ambulance) had to be called. Now about 20 or so minutes have gone by and these guys in the shadows are starting to get closer, there is talk about rushing them and kicking their asses but I am hoping for that not to happen. The idea of defending ones honor and defeating the enemy is a bold and glorious one. And even though I was near the end of my epic adventure and there couldn't be a more fitting dramatic conclusion then an epic mopeders versus jocks all out chain and pipe battle whereby I end up dead/hospital/jail or later rejoicing with a blood covered knife and a beer, recounting our victory to a stunned audience, I was glad to just get out of there and not see my new found friends hurt and still having my shot at finding that elusive jerk known as Bigfoot.

We all got out of there fine and everyone got back to the house of sin okay and we hung out and talked mopeds and life. Knowing I had to leave the next day was not easy as I had made some rad buddy friends known respectively as the Creatures of the Loin, The Mosquito Fleet and The Tom Cruisers and Killa Curt and many others! The morning came and breakfast was to be had and sad. We went to this little restaurant that made huge 12 egg omelets! I had a burger. Sitting with the dudes I heard some pretty good stories. Chunk, a Mosquito Fleeter told me about the WTO riots and how his helmet was actually a cop's that he swiped during a scuffle. He was my new hero. I also heard about the little known war between Canadian and American fishing boats during a horrible fishing season a few years back in which they blamed each other for no fish and actually had shootouts! The Canadians even surrounded and blocked in the US boats to keep them from sailing out. It's a crazy world out there man, crazy. We got to the house after some food eating and I packed up said goodbyes. Jay vowed to perfect the weasel stealth walk and I vowed to find Bigfoot.

(The Olympic Forest, new growth)

LAKE CRESCENT, AS I SAW IT THROUGH THE LENS, REFLECTED OFF THE MIRROR AND NOW ON THIS COMPUTER SCREEN.....WHOA.

I headed north and took two ferries west to get to the Olympic peninsula. I couldn't have been more psyched at the feeling I got when I got to the lake Crescent area. There was a turquoise hue to the water and it was clear and perfect. I jumped in and it was the complete bomb! The Native American story of how it formed went something like, there were two giant dragons fighting and the lake was formed by the loosing dragon's tears. I took my time in the water and let my city film evaporate. To me this was the prettiest drive of my trip so far. There's something about a rain forest and all the dripping moss and different shades of green. I would be lying if I said that I didn't get a little teary eyed. I barely cry ever, because I'm such a moped driving man, but traveling through this area I felt as though I've been there before and I was too overwhelmed and just let the tears go. I cried like a gentle chinchilla shivers in the wind, rapidly and fully.

F'in A, MAN!!!

Not long after I dried my little bitch eyes a biker dude rode past me and waved. I did the biker under the handle bar wave back as he past. He of course flew by me, as my top speed was about 33mph and his was way more. I could see him kinda do a double take in his mirrors and I realized he was trying to comprehend what he just saw. It wasn't a bicycle? What the hell was it? He pulled over up ahead and we greeted and checked out each others ride. He had a new looking motorcycle that looked perfect for a road trip. It wasn't too geared out and I could tell this was a good dude. He told me his name was David and he was from San Diego and was basically doing the same thing as me, minus the Bigfoot/moped angle. He was camping out under the stars, riding alone and enjoying whatever the road had to offer. He told me about his various motorcycles and even a Puch moped he had. We "parted" ways going in the same direction only to meet up at a gas station down the road. After some laughs he was nice enough to buy me one last hot meal before I hit the forest for a week. I was glad to have met someone like him because I found out on my two months on the road that there aren't many people that will give a weirdo on a moped the time of day much less offer some good company and a meal. When I got home he sent me an email with some photos and even wrote about me for Motorcycle magazine!

DAVID, "LIVING HIS DREAMS"

Full on a veggie Subway sandwich I headed for the south fork of the Hoh River. The map of the area I had showed this area to be the most remote. I wanted to stay away from main trails and just follow animal ones. I camouflaged my moped quit well in a bush and took off into the mountains. It didn't take me long to realize I headed off into an area that was logged some time ago. This second growth forest was nearly impenetrable. I had to crawl on my stomach and jump over things and work my way down steep cliffs to get anywhere. By the end of the day I was a couple hills away from where I started fully exhausted. My planned meals for the week were fish if the fishing looked good, rice and lentils, but mostly Cliff energy bars. I got enough to have 2-3 a day. Unfortunately it was a bad time for fish so the fishing was out and as for trapping or hunting I didn't feel that I was going to be there long enough to need to take a forest buddies life. I did eat some plant buddies though whenever I came upon some eatable deliciousness. As I lay in my sleeping bag that night my mind stretched its limits to hear, smell, see, taste, feel or sense anything that was moving about. It was so dark in this second growth area that I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. I pulled out my night vision scope and could only see about two feet in front of me. A sense of calmness developed when I decided not to panic just because I couldn't see. I just accepted what was going on and relaxed. Sounds of small mammals throughout the night kept me on my toes but basically I slept well. In the morning I vowed to claw my way out of the jungle and kept heading to the part of the tree line in the distance that I could see was taller, the old growth part.

(The Olympic Forest, old growth)

When I broke into the old growth I no longer had to crawl through animal trails as I could stand up and walk among the tall ferns and huge Douglas fir trees. When I could, I stayed on Elk trails, which most of the time went the best ways around the forest. They also occasionally led me to water. I spent a lot of my time just sitting quietly trying look for clues. I only saw one print that looked like a footprint but it was not very good. Other than that I couldn't say I was close to finding a Sasquatch. It was hard enough to find an animal during the day. I really could only get the best "hunting" done in the morning and sunset because during night it was so hard to see anything. I didn't want to bring attention to myself by using a flashlight and tried to use my crappy nightvision scope but could only see about 6 feet away and it was pretty hard to walk around through a monocular. Not wanting to ruin my time out there I decided to just relax and enjoy myself not getting too caught up in searching day and night for a hair or a footprint or to get some blurry footage of a Sasquatch. One of my first lines of relaxation business was getting buck naked and lying in a stream. There was some naked hesitation at first but that soon faded away. While I was working on my bikini area tan I looked over in the sand and saw something that made me wake up a bit. Giant mountain Lion prints. They looked very fresh and from my rough estimate the cat must have been over 100 pounds. Suddenly I felt very naked, it was mid afternoon so I was pretty certain it wouldn't have been around but I still heightened my awareness as I gently laid my buttocks in the icy stream.

SOUTH FORK OF THE HOH RIVER PRE-NAKEDNESS

It was weird the stages I went through psychologically through the week. The first couple of days I felt like an intruder and a little vulnerable to the night, by the last couple of days I felt more at home and part of what was going on out there. I remember Tim from Headwaters talking about this type of thing, he told us not to feel as though we don't belong because our home is the wilderness too. Even though I didn't pay park fees for camping I tried to make up for years of humans being crappy to the environment by picking up after myself what little I had and keeping a helpful eye out to the plants and animal homes I passed by. Seeing the damage Bears, Lions, and Elk do had me a little less worried about what I was doing. It would suck if everybody went out there though, but whatever dude, punk rock, drink beer, pump each other and god and the bible. I'm not sure what that means but check out this Slug!

RAIN FOREST BUDDY SLUG

After a few days of wandering I began to speculate about where I was and if I could make it back. I didn't look at a map since I first went in and I sent my crappy compass home so I didn't logically know where I was. The trees were so tall and almost impossible to climb. I couldn't even get a good view of the mountains around me to position where I was and where I needed to be. Most of the time it was hard enough to see the sky to tell where the sun was but I always felt I had a good sense of direction in the wilderness so I didn't freak out. I climbed up some pretty steep and scary things all the while carrying my ever falling apart backpack. This thing got so torn up from bushes and stuff that both straps were about to break. I cursed having that thing most of my time out there but enjoyed the warmth of my sleeping bag at night and a tarp over my head on those misty mornings. I did however long for the freedom of having nothing but a knife, the clothes on my back and maybe a rope, like in Tom Brown's books, but I had to face the facts that I just didn't have the skill yet to pull that off. I did what I could and at times felt that I was really close to finding something. The popular belief in the Bigfoot community is that they are nocturnal, very smart and can maneuver through difficult terrain with ease. Really my only chance for seeing one (if there was one to be seen) would to be in the right place at the right time. Being in this particular forest it was easy to see that if something was adept to camouflaging oneself they could be a few feet from you and it would be hard to see. The moss on trees and the blending of dark greens and browns all around could really hide almost anything that stood still. Not to mention visibility, at best, was about a hundred feet; I was knee deep in a forest that was a few miles deep. It was obvious this was a game of chance to even see a big mammal knowing the time I had in here.

I did get a chance to feel what it would be like to see a Bigfoot. I know this sounds weird, but there was a time I thought I was about to come face to face with what I was looking for! Not long after getting fairly deep into thick of the land I heard what sounded like "wood knocks". These "wood knocks" are described by many Bigfoot researchers as the sounds of Bigfeet banging on trees with sticks to communicate long distances with each other. Being in a particularly weird spot of the woods where I already had the creeps all of a sudden I heard three loud knocks about 50 feet away. This happened to happen when I was in the process of crapping and freaked me out. I got the crap process finished up as fast as I could and grabbed my camera ready to film the wood knocker in the process. Following the knocks I realized they were jumping around spots a bit. I became increasingly nervous as I got closer. In between knocks I got really close to where I felt they were coming from. Then there was a flash from above and the knocker revealed themselves! A Pileated Woodpecker! A huge one too! They're all huge though, but what a relief, I don't think I was ready to come face to face with a 7ft. Ape anyways. I wonder how many of these reported Bigfoot wood knocks have been Squatchpeckers! To be fair though, a lot of wood knocks occur in the dead of night when woodpeckers are fairly tired and sleeping.

PILEATED SQUATCHPECKERS!!!

I loved every second of being in the Olympic forest and every second of Sasquatch looking! I realized what I planned on doing and I ended up doing became two different things. I hate being restrained by time or lack of money, these are the bullcrap excuses in life that hold most people back from "living their dreams". Although I was free of this for awhile, I was not totally free from it. I didn't have the skills mastered for sustained wilderness living and had a girlfriend and job to get back to. My lack of experience would keep me from my original plan of living deep in the woods for at least a month. I wasn't sure if I could make it to this forest on my moped from California so I skipped this plan and visited a few places for a few days instead. The longer I explored this area the more I felt I wouldn't find a Sasquatch. Maybe this wasn't the best idea? Maybe the people who blast prerecorded "Bigfoot calls" and leave opened cans of cat food out around their RV's were on to something. In retrospect, no, I don't think so, I still think this style is the way to go. Maybe a team of about 15-30 experienced trackers and wilderness livers working together could figure this whole mystery out within a couple months. But, that's just my opinion!

On the sixth day I started to try to find my way out. I followed a small stream down hill that lead to a bigger one and eventually found my way to the south fork of the Hoh River. I made camp and explored the river banks and found an epic Elk antler! Rounding out the day with some rice and lentils I watched some bird's fish along the river and tracked some small mammal tracks. When night fell I spent time staring up at the stars. Just as I was falling asleep I heard two distant gunshots and hoped my Elk buddies got away.

ON "REAL TRAILS", TRAILWORKERS CUT FALLING TREES SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO CLIMB OVER THEM. WHAT PUSSY CRAP!

(Grandfathers house place)

Following the Hoh River I found my way back to my hidden moped and strapped everything back on and headed out once again. This time I was heading north to Marysville to visit my Grandfather. I drove past Lake Crescent, took another swim and stopped in Port Angeles to visit a thrift store then stopped for the night in a little town called Sequim pronounced Squim. The town reminded me of my hometown Deep River Connecticut but it was different. I stopped at the local pizza shop and noticed a cop followed me there. I was used to this by now after being pulled over two other times. Once in Sonoma County by a CHP officer who seamed intent on giving me a hard time. I had the right to travel on the road I was on but I didn't want to argue this with him. He asked me where I was heading and upon hearing a primitive skills school his whole face changed. He gave me back my ID without running it and we talked for awhile and he let me be on my way! The second time was when I was riding on the shoulder of a highway in Monterey. The cop pulled me over, heard my story, and when he found that I came from Long Beach, couldn't believe I drove a moped that far, he being from Torrance. He wished me well and gave me some directional advice. Now as I'm just getting my pizza this local cop in Sequim comes in and asks me if that's my moped out there. Trying to be as polite as I could I nodded and then he said "I don't want to bother you but, did you ride that all the way from California?" My answer did not disappoint him. We talked about my trip for awhile and I told him where I came from and he told me a story of himself actually getting stabbed in San Pedro (where I just moved from) awhile back. "Ya it's that kind of place", I said. He told me I had more balls them him to ride a moped that far and asked if he could take a picture because the other guys on the force wouldn't believe him. Being a sucker for a photo op I obliged and was glad I had run-ins with only good cops.

I can't really explain my attraction to Sequim, maybe cause there was a giant concrete skate park that I took the moped through, going off jumps, and carving the 10 ft. bowls, or how everyone seemed pretty cool. At burger king the girl working hooked me up with a ton of extra food! I later paid for it in toilet time but still appreciated it. I had to real estate speculate and luckily one of the young skate park kids worked for a reality place so I really found out the nitty gritty. Turns out Sequim is famous for its Lavender festival! With my head swirling with Sequimness I called Brianna on the Big Lots pay phone and talked into the night. It would be only about a week when we would meet up again! After our conversation a stray dog took a liking to me and I tried to cuddle with him later as I slept behind the Big Lots. The next day I made good time to Marysville crossing two ferries and met up with my Grandfather.

He lived in an Indian owned trailer park that had 2,000 people in there but you would never know it. Residents aren't allowed to drink alcohol outside their trailers or cut down plants and trees. I really liked the place, the forest made it hard to tell there were so many people there. My Grandfather lived there with his significant other, Jean, who was now unfortunately stuck in a wheel chair so he had to look after her. We hadn't seen each other in a few years and I sort of cut him off in my teenage years. I planned on only staying for a day or two then heading to the Gifford Pinchot forest just northeast of Portland. By this point in the trip my back tire was bald. Being a retired mechanic, among other things, Gramps insisted on getting me a new tire. I knew that this was going to be a challenge but he would not let up. After what had to be at least 2 hours on the phone, he finally found a local place that could get one. But it would take three days to arrive.

HOW ABOUT THAT OLYMPIC FOREST HUH?

For the next three days it was nonstop tales of bargains being got wherever a bargain could be got. "Need a paper towel? Here have one! $2.19 over at Albertson's, I go over to the Wal-Mart, $1.19". It seemed like everything I touched I got the run down on where and when to buy it for the best deal. This guy had Marysville wired; he even knew the best times to hit the local buffets! On my last day he took me out to Seattle and we had lunch in the Space Needle. I like going places with Gramps because he is a rare breed, an old school loud guy willing to haggle anything and everything to save a nickel. I remember him when I was younger being twice as loud and crazy. Nowadays he just sticks to loud bad jokes that nobody gets. I hope to be like this if I make it to be an old man. I see where I get some things from, especially the stubborn bullheadedness that got me to his house on a moped in the first place. The best bad joke he kept doing at our lunch was when a hostess or valet or someone would ask him a question he would look down near his feet and repeat the question to an invisible little man named Charlie. I chuckled every time mostly because of the awkwardness of the person not knowing what the hell was going on. They had a stunned look on their face like "this guy is crazy". Some people, like the hostesses, just flat ignored him. I loved his bad jokes and those who did not get them were no friends of mine. It was good to spend some time with Gramps and Jean but as usual the road was a calling. I would only have time enough to spend three days in Gifford Pinchot before needing to be in Portland to catch a ride home with Foxy Autopsy.

I left early and it was another long hard ride on the moped. I took the back roads from Marysville to a town outside the forest called Morton. Taking a break there and getting a good thick peanut butter and jelly sandwich in me, I relaxed a bit by watching some kids skateboard on the main street trying all kinds of tricks. I couldn't resist, I had to borrow a board. I asked a kid and he looked at me nervously and told me if I break it I buy it. I abided and took off all fast and did a "whosey-whatsy" which is basically an old time skateboard trick I named, the kid was very impressed and asked if I was "sponsored". Our little jam session continued for awhile until the local cop drove by and we all went our separate ways. It was getting close to midnight and I decided it would be beautiful to ride through Gifford Pinchot and find a place to camp.

Last Leg , Portland via Gifford Pinchot Forest

(creepy visions resulting in a beautiful gift from nature)

Stopping at the last soda machine before there was nothing but forest, I paused to get an iced tea. A car pulled up to do the same, but maybe to get a different drink? The man in the car took a look at me and seemed petrified as he sped away. The sight of me must have quenched his thirst. I admit I did look like a crazy moped terrorist with my all camouflage scent proof hunting suit accoutrements in the middle of the night but come on, they were the only pants I brought and the only warm jacket I had. Besides what kind of a "scary terrorist" rides a turquoise and yellow painted moped?! I laughed the incident off, got my drink and looked over my Washington state map to see if I could find a good place around to camp. Right about then a beat up camper with a beat up boat attached to the back pulled up and a drunk ass bastard hopped out to see me looking at my map. Without hesitation he yells "where ya going"? Points out a place on the map and says "camp there! It's a good spot and no one will fuck with you". I love old bastards like that and took his advice.

GIFFORD PINCHOT IS HOME TO MT. SAINT HELENS.

I tried to find the place he was talking about but must have got lost. It was a full moon and the forest was eerily lit with dark shadows everywhere and the creepy moss draping off trees didn't help either. So far on my trip I didn't freak out but I could feel the goose bumps creeping up. It was well past midnight and I was ready for sleep. My exhaustion was getting the best of me and I was starting to see road goblins along the side of the road. I was now frantically looking for a place to pull off and be hidden for the night. My mind decided to get the best of me however and soon I imagined dark figures in black hooded robes. No matter how fast I went they were always up ahead until finally they make a circle around me and locked hands all the while chanting. I finally freaked myself the fuck out! I floored the moped up to a whopping 33mph and got off the dark dirt road. When I calmed down I found a good spot and I slept great.

THIS IS HOW SCARY IT WAS.

In the morning I tried to find Skookum Meadows but without a logging road map got easily lost and spent a couple nights up in the mountains instead. I slept under the stars with no tarp over me and one morning woke up to a deer about 20ft. away. At night I could hear the howl of a pack of Coyotes and at dawn I explored around looking at tracks. This time I stuck mostly to the logging roads which were extremely hard to navigate on since they were gravel and my back brakes had given out by now. Going down steep hills was a bit of a challenge and I almost dumped the moped several times. My last night in the forest I went for a long hike following an Elk trail taking my time and enjoying every bit of it knowing that this would probably be my last day in a forest like this for awhile. Something along the trail stood out and I wasn't sure what I was looking at. When I got closer I realized I found a femur bone to a huge animal. Like an eager detective I searched for more. I was hoping to find the remains of a bear or better yet, you know who. As the mystery was unfolding I realized it was a four legged animal and probably a large Elk. The bones were scattered about quit successfully by the smaller mammals of the forest but before long I found the skull! It was the ultimate present from Nature to end my trip with!

(Conclusion; arriving in Portland II)

Heading back to Portland took 10 hours and went through some more desert type heat. So hot, in fact, that I took my shirt off and rode dickhead style. Upon arriving in town I went straight to my favorite place to eat, Burgerville and mumbled my order with exhaustion on my breath. I called Kalashia and she told me the bad news that she crashed her borrowed scooter and broke her collarbone. She still let me stay at her lonely apartment and even found a place for me to keep my moped. My moped would be staying with a drunken clown named Bob until Brianna and I eventually relocate there.

BILLBOARD NEAR THE OREGON/WASHINGTON BORDER

Brianna arrived the next day for Foxy Autopsy's first show of the week long tour. Also known as Beige Taupe Sandstorm, she looked absolutely beautiful with her blonde curls and fabulous outfit. Love was in the air and I'll spare you the details but I was tremendously glad we made it through the summer and wickedly happy that we were back together.

BRIANNA ARRIVING IN P-TOWN!

That night they played a show and although Kalashia and Patrick didn't make it, our friends Kate and Danielle did! The next day we left out on the rest of the tour then home. It was sad to leave behind my trusty moped but our days are far from over and we'll meet up someday soon.

FROM LEFT TO RIGHT. BEIGE, KATE, AND COCO

As I sit here back in the Los Angeles area typing this, I still have a hard time figuring out everything that happened on this trip. When I see friends they ask me about it and I'm not sure how to sum it all up. Writing this was almost as hard as the trip itself. I had to leave some stuff out, misworded some small details on a couple things and didn't elaborate enough on others. I guess I'll just have to say "tough titty" about all that. What I am sure about my moped/Bigfoot search is that it was one of the hardest things I've done. Concentrating on the road in front of me for hours to make sure I don't run over a nail or glass, avoiding getting thrown off the road by all kinds of vehicles, being deep in the forest with minimal equipment wondering if I'd make it out, thinking I was about to be