Kenneth

Found on the net

2008-10-27T10:23:19Z

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it
-- Omar Khayyam

kentheslayer @ 2008-09-21T20:55:00

2008-09-22T02:00:38Z

What do Galveston and Tina Turner have in common?

They both done been whooped by Ike.

Ha.

Today was day 8 of no power...came on for about 30 seconds earlier, then was gone as suddenly as it had come.

I got bored as hell sitting in the apartment with no power...so I hung out at the tat shop all day and ended up starting my sleeve. Its been a long time coming, and I'm happy as hell. Lamont at Electric Chair is a badass. Give him money.

Bad cell phone picture, but considering I don't have any power I figure I can get away with a bit more.

Sadly my life is boring and absolutely nothing has happened since the last time I found myself writing here. Grading papers sucks. School is a whore. I'm broke. Bike runs at least :).

This message is brought to you by the Richmond Arms English Pub which has, since yesterday at 5:00PM, had power and internet.

God I love the bar.

Pictures Continued...

2008-08-02T01:49:32Z

Been lazy.

Finally decided to put up more, and hopefully all, of my trip pictures. I even resized them. Awesome.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1335.JPG">
I rode into D.C. in the afternoon. I decided that my first stop should be Arlington...after a few wrong turns and an accidental run into a nearby military base, I found it.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1352.JPG">
It was a sad place...the rows of tombstones seemed to go on forever. Looking back now, there arent many pictures I even want to post. This is half of the tomb of the unknowns.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1356.JPG">
This is the other half of the tomb. The three stones in the foreground are the three individual tombs.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1361.JPG">
Alot more pictures, but I think this is all I want to put up. In places, the stones look like they go on forever. Its hard to really wrap your mind around sometimes. I cant think of a place that inspires silence more than this.

Standing on the hill leading to Arlington House, I noticed the Washington Monument only a few miles outside of the cemetery. Being dumb as hell, I thought that the two cities (Arlington and DC) were 10-15 miles apart, not actually adjacent. As I walked back to my bike, I realized there was even a subway station right under the cemetery entrance. I left the bike and rode into town.

I decided that at each transfer, I would get out and take a look around...oughta be a cheap way to get a quick look at the city from a bunch of different places. My first transfer was at the pentagon station.

I had kind of thought that the pentagon station would be across the way from the actual pentagon...a good spot to maybe shoot a picture of the facade and then walk away. As I climbed the stairs out, I noticed that I couldnt see the pentagon anywhere. There was only a massive stone wall to my right and a loading platform for another train to my left. I walked in between them awhile, pushing through crowds of the well-dressed, and noticed a sign in front of me: it was a camera with a circle and slash over it. I then noticed that the guard ahead of my had an MP5 in a three-point on his chest. Oh. So I guess the big stone wall to my right IS the pentagon.

There were big sheets of bulletproof glass on rollers everywhere...they would move them to make the checkpoints and then pull up stools behind. As I wandered past one of these little enclaves I heard someone whistle and yell "HEY." I turned and saw that it was one of the guards waving to me, still sitting on his bench. I turned, smiled, and started to walk towards him. To my surprise, he leaned forward off of the stool, pushed the barrel of the MP5 up around stomach level, and I heard the distinctive click of a safety disengaging.

I hate this feeling.

He asked me what I was doing. I told him sightseeing. Im not sure if the muddy clothes and crazy hair helped much. After a few quick pleasantries, he pointed at a line painted on the concrete and told me that I would do well not to cross it in the future. I agreed that the man was in fact wise far beyond his years and that I would heed his advice. The safety clicked back on and he sat back down. I got back on the subway. I have no pictures of the pentagon.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1367.JPG">
DC subway terminal. I think this was probably the one under Arlington.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1368.JPG">
The Smithsonian "Castle" building.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1374.JPG">
The White House, with my hands through the fence.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1375.JPG">
The White House, from the other side of the fence. I thought this was hilarious...read the box in the lower left.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1376.JPG">
Leaning against the White House.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1377.JPG">
The Mall is kind of run down all the time, considering it's DC. It didnt hit me so much at the time, but it really is true...

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1382.JPG">
WWII memorial. Our stone is the first (from this angle).

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1383.JPG">
Better view of it.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1390.JPG">
This was one of my favorite finds in DC. Around the back of a fountain, at the very bottom where it's hard to see, the builders left a Kilroy. It made me smile.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1391.JPG">
Reflecting Pool and Lincoln Memorial.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1395.JPG">
Lincoln.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1398.JPG">
Me again.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1399.JPG">
Looking back towards the Washington Monument.

Right about now, I decided to find a place to sleep. I talked to someone at the visitors center...they told me there was a nice Marriott on Pennsylvania Ave. I looked at his for a moment and asked "thats the same street as the White House, isnt it?"...just to be sure. It was. I asked for something a little less pricey...he told me to go up north into Maryland and find a place that was on the rail line...that'd be the cheapest I could do. I went outside and sat on the steps...the map I had bought had a list of DC hotels. I figured I ought to get a representative sample of the prices in the area, so I started at the top. Turns out average stay would have been about $500 a night. If anyone had had any vacancies...

It took me hours to find a good place to stay. I ended up napping in a gas station for a bit and finally found a bum who said he knew a good place. It was down the road, past the rail road tracks and right next to the liquor store. Sounds like home.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1401.JPG">
Rode in on the red line the next morning and hopped off at Union Station.

<<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1400.JPG">
Bums sleeping on the fountain in front of the station.

I sat outside of Union Station for a bit. After a little while, a homeless man walked up and started talking to me. His name was Nate. He asked how long I had been in the city...I told him a day. He offered to set me up at a shelter and find me some food...I laughed and told him I was ok for the moment, but I'd keep him in mind. Apparently I was dirtier than I had thought. He pointed me down the road to the Capital Building.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1405.JPG">

I talked to my dad on the phone earlier in the day. He told me about a pizza place across the street from Ford's Theater that he had eaten at back when he was in the Navy. We both agreed that it would be trippy as hell if I ate at the same place some 30 years later, so I began the hunt.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1421.JPG">
Ford's Theater. Sadly it was closed for renovations, so all I could see was the outside.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1423.JPG">
Self-explanatory. From the house across the street where Lincoln was taken after being shot.

I found the restaurant. Food was good. The only beer they served was 40s. I was very happy.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1414.JPG">
Next, the National Archives. I wanted to see the Constitution, so I got in line.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1436.JPG">
More line. Now we're at least inside.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1438.JPG">
Awhile later, still in line, we get to the Rotunda where the Constitution is kept.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1441.JPG">
That's it. In the middle of the background in between the pillars.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1447.JPG">
The Constitution. And a kid's head. It was crowded.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1449.JPG">
Bill of Rights.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1461.JPG">
I left and realized that I had walked right over the Vietnam Wall on my way to the Lincoln Memorial. Its easy to miss if you dont know where to look...

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1462.JPG">
Alot of names.

Back at the motel, I got drunk with some Venezuelans I had met the previous night. I saw their bikes, but didnt quite know what to make of their luggage:

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1465.JPG">
After chatting for a bit, I finally asked them what it meant. Son of a bitch. They were really actually riding from Venezuela to Alaska. Along almost the exact same route that I was (from this point on, at least). Sadly they had trouble getting their visas into Canada, and were still at the motel when I left a day or so later.

After DC, I headed to Gettysburg.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1467.JPG">
This is cemetery hill. Though the line moved a great many times throughout the battle, this is where the Union held. Seminary hill is the site of the Confederate line.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1472.JPG">
It was strange to look down the cannon barrels and down into the woods. You can almost imagine running up the slope...

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1476.JPG">
Across the street is Soldier's National Cemetery. All of the Union dead from Gettysburg are buried here.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1481.JPG">
The stones in the previous picture are for more modern dead. The Civil War dead are laid out in concentric circles around a large sculpture.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1484.JPG">
Some are unnamed.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1485.JPG">
Each of the lawns of the cemetery has a plaque with a poem on it.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1488.JPG">
On the other side of town is the Monument to Eternal Peace.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1492.JPG">
From on top of it, you can see alot of the countryside and the town itself. You can also see my bike.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1493.JPG">
I dont remember where this was, but I slept here the night after Gettysburg in the middle of a huge field. Oddly, I think its places like this that I miss most of all.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1500.JPG">
Driving through NY state, I got caught in some bad rain. Sitting under an awning at a gas station, I met a few other bikers sheltering til it calmed down. They told me they were heading to the Orange County Choppers shop. I figured I oughta go too.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1498.JPG">
They had alot of the bikes from the show on display.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1494.JPG">
During the week, when theyre working, you can watch them in the shop through one way glass. I came on a Saturday. Lucky.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1502.JPG">
A day or so later, I got my first view of the Atlantic. I think this was in Connecticut, but I dont have my map with me.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1503.JPG">
The beach was beautiful.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1504.JPG">

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1506.JPG">
I stood and stared at the water for awhile. Then it started to turn dark. It rained for days.

For the next day or two, I froze my ass off in Massachusetts. The second day, I slept in a parking garage in Malbrough (sp?). By morning, I couldnt stop shaking. The rain had gotten underneath my coat and soaked my clothes. The clothes in my bags were no better. I could barely feel the clutch in my hands and couldnt stop my teeth from grinding. I got a motel room for the night and recovered a bit. This is when I realized I was only half an hour away from Walden.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1509.JPG">
I couldnt believe I was nearly there. This felt like a defining moment in my life...like I was walking in the place of legends. It broke my heart when I walked up the pond from the main road and found that it had been turned into a public swimming area. People screamed and ran along the beach.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1510.JPG">
But as I walked along the shore and found the other side of the pond, where Thoreau lived, it all slowly quieted and became solemn. I was happy that they had managed to find a balance here: one side the public could enjoy, but the other was as quiet as I had imagined.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1512.JPG">
All that remains of Thoreau's hut is the hearthstone.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1513.JPG">
It wasnt hard to imagine why he chose this place...

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1517.JPG">
I sat here on the rocks for a long time. I never want to forget how I felt at that exact moment.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1518.JPG">
I'm not sure if I will ever know this kind of peace again.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1519.JPG">
I rode out to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery next to pay my respects.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1520.JPG">
As with the site of his cabin, people leave rocks as a token of their respect.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1521.JPG">
Also buried here is Nathaniel Hawthorne...

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1522.JPG">
Louisa Alcott

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1525.JPG">
And Ralph Waldo Emerson, among many others.

From here, I rode to Concord to see the site of the shot heard 'round the world...

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1526.JPG">
I didnt realize it, but Emerson's home was only a few hundred yards from the site of the battle. The next day, he wrote this of the fighting...

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1527.JPG">
His home.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1529.JPG">
Monument to the battle.

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1530.JPG">
And the thing that surprised me most: a monument to the fallen British soldiers...

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1531.JPG">

<img src = "http://webspace.utexas.edu/kit55/www/bumlife/DSCF1532.JPG">
Monument to the Farmer Soldier.

From here I rode the battle road into Boston, the route of which follows the path the British took as they fled Concord. Paul Revere's ride is also along this road.

Clothesline

2008-07-03T00:25:30Z

I left Chicago at about six o'clock in the morning. Most of the night was spent at the bus station waiting for the Greyhound with Walker and collecting such gems as "I GOT THE WAR IN MY BRAIN" and "My name's Dave...I fuck around the Greyhound. It's what I do man. Want some hash? I bet you'd like Wicker Park" from the local street folks.

With traffic starting to pick up, I had started out as the horizon first began to glow it's weak blue, cruising through the chilly twilight of early morning south into the Illinois countryside. I was clenching my jaw alot to keep my teeth from chattering. I kept wondering in my head if the enamel would break, but the headache from my cramping jaw came first.

Half an hour down the road I stopped for gas. Warming up for a bit, I decided that something had to be done about the cold or I would never make it to a camping place. I cinched a zip tie tight around each wrist to keep the wind from blowing up my jacket and wrapped my towel around my throat like a scarf. Still too dark to ride with my helmet's visor down, so I'd just have to come to terms with the cold on my face.

An hour or two later, I pulled into a state park, pulled the bike into the woods, and slept behind some bushes out of view of the main road. I slept there until early afternoon...the roar of tractors in the adjacent field coaxing me out of sleep. I decided from here that I would push straight through and make the best time to Houston as possible.

It would help if the bike would start, however.

$88 for a new battery only a month ago in Nashville, TN and now it's flat again. I have no idea whats wrong with it, but sitting in the dust of some state park in Illinois, this seemed like a less than ideal time to try and figure it out. I got a jump from a rusted out El Camino, driven by a good ol' boy a few sites over. His arms were sleeved, and tattoos crept up towards his ears underneath a white, collared shirt. I traded my pocketknife for the favor so that he could peel potatoes...the handle had broken a few states back and was now held together with nothing but electrical tape. It wouldnt close anymore, so I had to wrap it in paper and keep it behind my belt, rolled up in the back of my pants. I always had a vague fear that I would lean back to hard and stab myself in the spine...I felt good about passing it on.

For days I drove this way...half in the day, half in the frozen night. Every 150 miles I would stop for gas and recline on the bike with a copy of Aesop's Fables waiting for someone else to pull in for me to jump off of. Sometimes I would wait hours...sometimes minutes.

It was in Missouri that I noticed how the interstate was bowing out to the east...making a long, gentle curve out and back again to the west. A state road, highway 67, seemed to connect the north and south points of the bow. I knew it would be slower going riding a state highway this late at night, but figured I could do with the saved mileage and pulled off.

Somewhere around Festus, I noticed a sign glowing orange in the distance, flashing out the monotony of it's single message:

"ROAD CLOSED. WATER OVER BRIDGE. DANGER. DO NOT ENTER. ROAD CLOSED."

I coasted to a stop next to the roadblock and cursed under my breath. I was at least 30 miles down and I doubted there was any easy way back to the interstate from here, save turning around and going back the way I came. I would lose an hour. And my campsite was somewhere down this highway...Id lose an hour and a place to sleep. It was cold too, and there was a light drizzle. I wasnt in any mood for this.

After simple annoyance, the first thought to cross my mind was simply: "Water over bridge? I wonder how much water..."

Weighing the options in my head for a moment, I decided there was only one acceptable course of action. I dropped the clutch and slid in between the construction barrels blocking off the road, slowly coasting up to the water's edge. The road was covered. There was no doubt about that...but it didnt seem too deep. Maybe a few inches? Things always get deeper in the middle...I know that...but here it didnt look bad at all. Victory goes to the daring, I decide, as I slide the clutch back out again and begin to split the water ahead of me.

The yellow centerline is only a few feet away...I can see it in my headlight now. It makes a pretty good gauge of the water's depth, at least much better than the black asphalt. Plus I figure itll be a good indicator if the bridge is actually washed out...if the lines stop, hopefully I can climb up on my brakes fast enough.

About 30' later, I round a bend and see the steel skeleton of the bridge rising up out of the water on either side in the feeble glow of my single headlight. The mosquitos are thick...my helmet seems like it's full of them, and occasionally I get the feeling that my nose is too. I swat at my face a few times and shake my head. There are branches and bits of trash floating across the bridge...slowly...like the great ships of some smaller civilization. The water is deeper here, but still slow. I push on, occasionally bumping over a piece of deadwood.

On the other side of the bridge, the water abruptly stops. Back on dry ground, I celebrate. The whole stretch was only a half a mile, maybe...far shorter than the 5-6 miles I had worked myself up for in my head. No trouble at all...and I saved myself an hour. I was home free now. Missouri DOT - 0, Kenneth - 1.

I gunned the engine in my excitement and elatedly roared through the first layer of the barricade blocking off the other side of the bridge. It was just traffic cones...on the other side, a layer of barrels again. I found two barrels that were a little further separated than the others and lined myself up, rolling even harder on the throttle as I went. About 4' away from the barrels, I noticed something surprising in my headlight.

A rope.

A motherfucking rope. Between the barrels.

Goddammit.

I had never ridden through a rope on a motorcycle before, and honestly found myself fairly baffled. Should I hang on tight with both hands and hope that the weight catches me across the chest and pulls me to a slow and graceful stop? Should I lean forward, put my helmet against the tank, and slap at the rope with my left hand, while I keep the right clutched in a deathgrip? What if the rope is taut? It definitely wont slap far then, and Ill hit it with only one hand on the bar...I'm pretty sure that would be bad.

The Emergency Motorcycle Riding Through a Rope Action Plan wound its way through committee as I looked on full of dumb apprehension. As the final votes were being tallied, I was saved the effort of an actual plan by the snap of rope against the front forks of the bike. Reduced to mere reaction, I clung to the bars as tight as I could and pulled myself low.

For a second, nothing happened.

For a second, just the whir of the rope sliding along in the perfect darkness.

I had expected instant calamity...barrels full of water jerking me off the bike as though I'd hit a brick wall. The rope really being made of steel...it ripping my apart as it caught in my chest...sliding up under the chin of my helmet and tearing my head free. The silence was disconcerting.

Maybe the rope was just laid on top of the barrels?

The stillness was shattered by the low, deep "THUNG" of the rope stretching taut. Apparently though it was passed through the handles of the middle barrels, it was most definitely tied off to the barrels on the end. This was a depressing, but not entirely unforeseen development.

Since I had decided to cross on the right side, there were only two barrels on my right, but at least 7 on my left. Barrels which were swiftly picked up by the end barrels and drug behind me as I continued screeching forward, my brakes pulled all the way in and tires sliding.

With a jerk, my bars pulled all the way to the left and I got my first taste of unassisted human flight.

The stars were pretty that night, I noticed, laying on my back in the middle of the road. The sky was almost perfectly clear now, after the rain passed. And my leg hurt. I heard the engine stall off somewhere behind me...that's nice, I thought. I dont want it to keep running with the bike on it's side...

A minute or two passes and I decide that I would really like to be able to get up. Not now, of course, but sometime in the future. In fact, I would really not like to be found like this at all. I tilted my head to one side and picked out the headlight of the bike, laying on its side. The bars were choked around with rope, barrels strung along behind it, disappearing into the dark. That was kinda like bowling, I thought to myself. Granted the strike was easier to get with the barrels tied together with rope...but it also hurt alot more. It all evens out.

This was going to be hard to explain. Barrels, bike with rope wrapped around it, then strange homeless looking man laying on the pavement bleeding. Really, there was no question as to what happened out here tonight. I really needed to be able to get up.

I stretched and pulled myself to my feet. Left leg wasnt bending much, but it was definitely ok with staying straight. Hobbled to the bike, and hunched down...pressed my ass against the side of the seat and grabbed a handlebar with my right hand and slowly squatted it upright, kicking the stand down with my heel.

I pulled my leg over and pressed in the starter...after a brief struggle, the engine caught. With a hasty look in either direction, I decided it may be time to call it quits for the night.

Back Home

2008-06-30T21:34:33Z

Back home. This is what 900 miles spread out over 32 hours of rain looks like. Tired.

Fireworks again on the 4th, so if you happen to find yourself near Bissonnett and Beckford, stop in and give me money. It'll be awesome, I swear.

2

2008-06-17T03:41:48Z

I have alot of pictures. This is gonna take alot of effort.

Not sure if I'm going to finish writing all of this...sitting here in the computer room of a holiday inn in Massachusetts, but lets see how far I go.

I am going to break this up into several entries...Im kind of afraid of my internet crapping out and losing everything. Sorry for your friends pages. I think the pictures are huge too. Sorry for your internet connections.

Monday, June 2nd I decided that the purple bike just wasnt going to make the trip. I had gotten used to the foot positioning and the like, but my recent trip through the south convinced me that the gearing on it just wasnt good for highway. It screamed at 65, and I was afraid the engine would blow out being run like that constantly. Plus the gas leak. And the slowly decreasing max speed that hinted at a costly carb rebuild. I went to Houston Motorcycle Exchange in the morning and decided to see what I could get on a trade in. I got almost what I paid, so I traded up to a 1994 Honda Shadow 1100 with 40,000 miles on it. Had to put some money down on the deal, but decided it was worth it. When they tried to start it for me on the show room floor it wouldnt turn over...they told me the battery had gone flat from it sitting...told me it was good and they would charge it up for a few hours before I took the bike. If it craps out, I can take it back in and theyll give me another for free. I tell them there wont be much coming back -- that when I leave, in a few hours, its pretty much gonna be what its gonna be. They laugh and tell me it'll be ok.

Aris is a day ahead of me already...somewhere up in Oklahoma. I decide Ill take a nap and leave in the evening, meet up with him at the camp ground around 2-3 in the morning. At 8pm I get my bags loaded and try to kick it over...the lights dim and the bike wont start. After 30 minutes, I give up. I call Aris to tell him I'll be delayed, then go inside to go to sleep. I figure Ill replace the battery in the morning.

After a quick run to the dealer, I hit the road early the next morning and jump on 45. I've only ridden 20 miles on the bike by now, so its still new to me. The power feels amazing...doesnt struggle like the old one did. After I leave the city I decide to open it up a bit...I run around 110mph for the first hour when the bike starts to sputter. Im shocked...thinking that maybe its broken down already. I switch the fuel to reserve just to be sure and the bike takes off again. In 70 miles I just blew my entire main tank. At 110 mph, my bike gets around 20 mpg. Lets never do that again.

I peg it around 65 for the rest of the run and get around 50-55mpg. Much better.

5 or so hours and a quick (slow) jaunt through Dallas rush hour, I meet up with Aris at a Sonic in Caddo, OK. We sit and chat for awhile...poring over maps in the heat of the parking lot where I tell him I have to get off of the interstate. Its been hours...I hate the interstate. Its flat and boring and manufactured. The only scenery billboards and gas stations and signs for cities I've never been. We continue up I-75 to Stringtown and grab 43 east. We rode around the bend of the Sardis Reservoir...though we didnt know what it was at the time.

Boat ramp near the reservoir.

Same

We drove on a little further and found an abandoned building on the side of the reservoir. It went out into the water, with a ramp leading from the roadwap. There were parking spots in front and benches. It was covered in graffiti and someone had tried to break most of the doors in...now they had metal bars welded across them to keep them shut. Stickers on the doors identified them as US Gov. property.

The bridge connecting the building to shore, from the building.

US Gov. sticker on the door. The lock has been pried at quite a bit.

Down the bridge to the front of the building, standing in the parking lot.

We called this the "welcome center." Some random buildings in front of the bridge and next to the parking spots. We found that one of the buildings used to be a bathroom. There are benches around them. All of them are welded shut.

Smoking. The place has an eerie feel from time to time.

Benches and half-dead plants.

This came out way too dark, but I liked the graffiti on the wall in the right foreground. If you look close, I think you can still read it.

We rode north to Talihena, OK and camped for the night in Talimena SP. The next morning we began the ride across the Talimena Byway into AK.

The first stop on the byway. The bikes loaded up. I ended up sending another backpack home a few days later. Too much shit.

First view over the edge.

On the mountain, there was a place you could hang glide off. The clearing at the bottom is the landing zone.

Mountainside.

Another

Valleys.

Road...with a little bit of my engine guard in the bottom left.

After the pass, we continued on to Hot Springs, AK.

I think this is Lake Oachita.

Graffiti on the guard rail.

More.

There were alot of resort looking things in the area. Liquor stores, boat rentals, bait shops...that sorta stuff. We crossed this bridge, and on the other side were some rental cabins and boat ramps.

...as well as this marina, which was impossible to get a decent picture of. Aris might have done better.

It had to be done. We crossed through Athens later in the day. Ive begun to notice how alot of city names tend to repeat...Athens is one of them. I have also been through several Houstons, as well as Austins.

Turns out there arent any hot springs in Hot Springs that you can actually swim in. They are all just preserved bath houses from back in the day. The town looks amazing though...alot of old buildings and people roaming around. There are fountain type things on every corner that spray out spring water if you press a button...it comes out almost hot enough to scald you. We filled up all of our jugs and moved on. I want to go back here.

Right about now, we were driving down a country road when my bike started to act funny. Sputtering, like it was out of gas. I switched tanks and rolled on the throttle, waiting for it to catch again...instead gave one massive backfire and died. When I turned the key back, none of my idiot lights would come on. We sat and discussed the situation for awhile, and I turned the key again...the lights came on. The engine wouldnt crank when I pushed the starter. Thinking that cooling was helping, we sat for awhile longer and tried again. It gave one weak crank. Awhile later, we tried again...it cranked a few times and then fell silent. The battery was dead. Got some jumper cables from a guy living down the street and I jumped the bike off of Aris's and drove 7 or so miles down the road to buy gas. There we met another biker...he had just bought a harley and was taking it out for the first time when a hose fell off of his carb and gas sprayed everywhere. He couldnt get it back on and was stranded...his parents were there in their truck...they loaned us cables and we jumped it again and started off for Wal-Mart. Used the wal-mart battery tester...it said the battery was fried. Good to know. We found out from a guy in the parking lot that there happened to be a Honda dealership down the road 20 miles or so in Russellville, so we jumped the bike again and rode down I-40. We stayed the night in a motel in Russellville right across the street from the dealership. In the room next to ours were two stand-up comics who were in the middle of a tour. Chatted and had a few beers with them, then passed out...was up at 9am the next morning to have the bike looked at. Paid $50 to make sure the charging system on the bike was ok and I wasnt going to get stranded in the middle of nowhere...they agreed that the charging system was fine, but the battery was dead. Sadly my battery is rare and they done have it. No one in town has it. Everyone can get it, but it will take 24-48 hours. This can not stand.

I decide waiting that long in one town is lame and call 2 days ahead to Castle Motorsports in Nashville, TN...they have my battery in stock and will hold it until I arrive.

We went east and slept the night at Jacksonport SP. While we were filling up with gas before we went into the park, we stood around in the parking lot to talk and have a cigarette. The place was packed, the way gas stations get late at night when clubs let out, though it was too early for last call and the town was too small for a club. I think this was just the chillin spot. Out of nowhere, a fight broke out a few pumps down from us. As we watched and finished our cigarettes, an older drunker man asked Aris what kind of bike he had and among the sound of shattering beer bottles, screamed out "THAT THING GOT A HEMI!?!" a few times. He was wearing one of those visor hats that doesnt have a top...like an old timey banker/card dealer would wear. It was printed with the stars and bars on the top and he wore it upside down. He didnt have many teeth. We drive in the dark in between the grain elevators out of town and found the camp grounds completely packed...there was a carnival there, just taken apart. The carnies were moving between cities and camping...they were everywhere. We took the bikes off-road and went through a field...we ended up sleeping next to a lake a little ways out. This far from the light, we could see every star in the sky.

The next morning we drove through Diaz, AK and into Missouri. Turns out there are only two bridges in the area that cross the Mississippi into TN: one in Memphis and one in Missouri. We were too far north for Memphis, so we said fuck it and made our way north in search of I-155.

Diaz is just what I imagined the AK badlands to be. Dust and wind and heat. Missouri wasnt much better. There are no pictures from here....it was all sweating and speeding. When we finally crossed into TN, Aris made me promise we'd never do that again. Every day cant be a winner.

We realize that the bike shop in Nashville closes at 5, and its already nearly 2...we have about 200 miles left to go. Thus begins an epic cannonball run across TN to get my battery before closing time so we dont have to sit around and wait an extra day. Aris needs to take breaks more frequently than me because of his bike, so he stays behind about 70 miles into the run. I arrive at 4:55 and run across the showroom floor, drenched in sweat. I had called about 15 minutes before to tell them I wouldnt make it and to please just leave it outside for me, since I was stuck in Nashville's rush hour. They told me they couldnt do that, and that I had plenty of time...just not to drive the speed limit. I decided this was sage advice.

As I slapped a sweaty hand on their counter and tried to catch my breath, the clerk looked at me and simply asked: "Kenneth Tomplait?"
*pant* "Yes sir." *cough*
*slides battery across counter* "Good man"

I walked outside and installed it in the parking lot. Aris and I meet up again at a truck stop in Lebanon where we sit outside and talk to a crackhead named Louis for a few hours while we eat. Walker is outside of Tupelo now, so sadly plans of a meet-up look to be shot. We stay the night at Edgar Evins SP.

In the morning we continue east towards The Dragon.

The roads in TX are too straight. I'm not quite used to this. I think this is Hwy 30 in eastern TN. I most definitely suggest riding it if you are ever in the area.

As we ride on, we see a sign for Fall Creek Falls SP. Deciding that having "falls" in the name implies a waterfall, we make a pit stop.

We saw this and thought it was the falls. Kind of disappointing. This was, however, taken from a rope bridge strung across the river. I dont know why I dont have a picture of it, since I know I took one. Aris does though. He also doesnt walk in the middle, and makes it swing like insane. It was hard to take pictures with all of that going on.

I jumped on it though, so I'm not much better. God did that little girl scream.

We found out that this was just a piece of the river and that the actual falls was up a trail a mile or so. We decide to hike it.

About halfway up, we remember how much hiking up things kinda blows. We take a pit stop to take pictures and smoke. I didnt realize there was a strange little girl in this picture...

We finally make it to the falls. Turns out theres a parking lot up here...there was a road that takes you right up to where we are, making the hike entirely unnecessary. You can continue hiking down another 3/4 of a mile to get to the bottom, but we're not really sure how the hiking back up part would go. We get back to our bikes and take off.

After Aris jumps the security fence and sits on the edge.

The twisties continue.

We climb up into the mountains. There is a cool looking small town at the entrance to the Cherohala Skyway on the TN side called Tellico Plains. We didnt get a chance to really spend much time there, but it'd be interesting to go back.

The road through the mountains follows a river throughout most of its path. There is a constant mist that hangs in the air, and as we climb higher, the air begins to chill.

All of the roads are damp, and it keeps misting over my visor.

We find another waterfall and decide to sleep near it, as the sun is setting.

As we come down the other side, all we can see are bikes. We can tell we're getting close to The Dragon.

This is the first place we see coming down off of the Skyway. We sit outside and have breakfast/lunch while we talk to the other bikers passing through. Gas is easily 40 cents more expensive here.

After wandering around a bit, we find Deal's Gap. The Gap is a motorcycle only mote/resort on the N. Carolina side of The Dragon. It is packed with bikers. Hundreds easily pass in the time that we're sitting there.

Aris wants to make a run without his bags on the bike, so I decide Ill wait here for him to give it a shot...I figure itll give me a chance to talk with some of the folks passing through to figure out a route north from here.

While Im talking to people, I hear that 4 died making a run the last week. This was slightly higher than their weekly average, so the NCHP are out in force to keep everything calm. I hear conflicting reports from returning bikers...some say 7 cars, some say 11. The Dragon is only 11 miles long, so this is definitely considerable. In the time that I am there, 3 people call in having run off the road. One requires hospitalization, the others just need the owners to come out and pull their bikes out of the ditch with a 4-wheeler.

At this point, Im a bit nervous. My tires have been bald since Texas. We had originally planned on buying new ones around The Gap somewhere, but we arrived on a Sunday and everyone's closed. I get a penny and decide to test my treads to reassure myself.

Can you see Lincoln's head? God I'm fucked.

Having dumped my bike earlier in the day during an embarassing incident involving loose gravel and me hitting Aris's bike, Im convinced Im gonna slide out during my run. Despite the heat, I pull on my work coat and gloves and immediately begin to sweat. I only button two buttons and figure getting some air flow through might cool me off. Turns out they have photographers out there taking pictures of you as you ride...I get my picture off the net a few days later. Definitely dont look cool. Its a shame.

About 7 miles through the run theres a place to pull off. It has a nice view of a dam down the river. We sit up here and talk with one of the dam workers for awhile as some other bikers shoot bottle rockets off of the cliff.

Apparently alot of people hang out here. There is quite a bit of graffiti, as well as quite a bit of resentment towards the cops moving in on the road. Apparently before this area got so big, it used to be a great deal more awesome to ride...but then again, everything always used to be better. At least that's what I hear.

I wanted to stay the night in a motel in Gatlinburg, since Aris was about ready to head west. I figured we could find a bar and get trashed. It'd be fun. Sadly we stopped in Pigeon Forge instead. There are no bars in Pigeon Forge. We settled with buying a 40 (32?) of Corona for him and a 6 pach of Keystone tallboys for me. We sat outside of McDonalds and ate while we got boozed, then wandered the town.

Aris pointed out the large number of youngish (our age) girls wandering around town. Always in pairs. Never really going anywhere. I had chalked it up to vacationers...just wandering around the shops and looking at stuff.

The next morning we ate at IHOP and were served by a Russian waitress named Tatiana. Aris was also curious how a Russian waitress ends up in Pigeon Forge, TN. As we sit outside looking at our maps, one of the guys that restocks the little info pamphlet kiosks wanders up and begins stuffing pamphlets into a case next to us. We get to talking and Aris asks about the girls wandering around.

Turns out Pigeon Forge is overrun with Russian hookers. Hundreds of them.

They come in every summer, he says, and work for about 6 months. Some of them at legit jobs, some not. Then they go home and live off of their earnings for the rest of the year and come back the next. This explains why two of them fgollowed our drunk asses to McDonalds the night before...and I guess why they stomped off after 30 minutes of us not talking to them as they sat a table away from us on the empty deck, not eating.

He says they all live together in the Holiday Inn "up the hill over that way," and that no one really knows what goes on up there, at least not that he knows of, but that there are always rumors. We get lost hunting for the hooker hideout and end up heading north to the Cumberland Gap.

Just as we cross the border into KY, me and Aris part ways.

I sleep that night on top of a dam at Fishtrap Lake in Kentucky. The mosquitos were a bitch.

The next morning I drive the mountain roads back and forth between Virginia and West Virginia, heading northeast.

The roads are insanely windy and curvy, and everything has a thin sheen of water on it. The only break in the forest is for the occasional steel scaffolding of a conveyer leading out of a coal mine.

I finally find a place up here to stop for gas. It is, again, nearly 50 cents above average. All I can hear is a low background of cicadas and packs of dogs howling in the distance. This whole area has had a strange feeling about it all day.

My great-grandparents were moonshiners. Our family has been broke for as long as I can remember, and when times got tough, that's how they got by. My grandma always talked about The Blight like a tangible thing when she talked about Appalachia. It was like a wasting disease lingering in the steamy depths of the mountains, something that I could imagine slowly creeping out like a rot.

;Most of the houses I passed were empty. Some had burned...no one ever went to the effort to fix them or tear them down...they just put out the flames and left them. Often several adjacent houses were burned too. Anything that was glass was broken, most of the time. This basketball court was overgrown, and there was no rim on the goal.

The valleys were long and narrow, so the cities came in little spurts in between the valley wall and the road. Houses would be stretched along one deep. Some colorful and well maintained.

Some less so.

An entire block across the river had been abandoned.

After a moment's thought, I went inside.

The lower stories of all of the houses were filled with trash. I skipped the first floor.

Though the second wasnt much better.

The floorboards were all rotten, so I had to walk along the baseboards.

Upstairs bedroom.

As I rode out, I noticed that almost all of the houses were the same. There were one or two occupied on the end of the street, however. It was odd to note that the 3 cars parked out front were all brand new.

I passed this park coming through the mountains. The sign said it was dedicated in 2003...only 5 years ago. It's trashed and overgrown.

I passed coal mines every few miles. And rail yards. In the yards, I could see hoppers loaded with coal miles long...I drove along one such line for several minutes. It seems like every "town" in the area springs up right alongside the lines. All of the abandoned houses are further out. Maybe the mine dried up?

I was still hunting for a place to sleep as the sun began to set. I noticed that as I went farther north, the day was becoming visibly longer. It seemed like I was getting at least 15 hours of light a day.

I stopped for minute to check my map and took a look around, then it struck me. I was in a valley in between two mountains. On one side, the sunset glowed like fire behind the mountain.

But the reflection made the other side cool and blue.

And I was sitting right in between.

I packed my map and jumped back on the bike. I threw it into gear and raced north along the I-81, determined to beat the sunset as the sky burned around me.

When it all finally went dark, I stopped and found a place to camp in Shenandoah NP.

Two-wheeled holocaust

2008-05-25T01:21:00Z

Ive made a few observations regarding the bike lately. At first I thought it was all just chance sorta shit, but now I'm really starting to think something's up.

The first is that I kill bugs with my helmet. Alot of bugs. My visor will actually fill up with them over the course of an hour or two. It was quicker in Mississippi, but I figured that was to be expected. If I put the visor up, then I collect most of them on my glasses instead. It's gross.

As an aside, dragonflies hurt. Seriously.

Despite the fact that my truck's windshield is far, far larger than the visor on my helmet, it never really seems to have dead bugs on it. I mean, I get a few from time to time, especially when Im in the boonies...but Ive never had trouble seeing out of it like I have with the helmet. Ive also never had to clean them off of my headlight to see...unlike on the bike. This is kind of odd to me.

This morning was surreal, hilarious, and terrible all at once...and its starting to make me think something is amiss.

I left the rig around 6:00AM and got on the road to my uncle's place. I was just a few miles down the two-lane blacktop doing about 75mph...there was a nice, shallow curve in the road. I had just straightened back up when I noticed two...humps (?) in the road ahead of me. As I got closer, I decided they were vultures, and must be clustered around something dead. Beings that I was doing 75 or so, stopping wasnt gonna happen...I let my rear brake drag to slow down a bit to give them an extra second or two to get out of Dodge...but they didnt. I realized my visor was open and had a temporary gruesome image of one of the fuckers hitting me in my open helmet and smashing in my nose/shattering my glasses. Shrugged that off and decided that I wasnt gonna swerve...when it comes to woodland critters or me going into the ditch, the endearing woodland critter is gonna die.

As I got closer, I realized they were actually not vultures but some kind of giant domesticated bird. Like a pheasant or rooster. I still havent decided which. One was white, the other black. I decide that since they are each in the center of a lane and Im close to the center stripe, Ill just shoot in between them and hope for the best. As I get closer, the black one takes off. Im giving him a mental pat on the back as I stare at the white one, who appears to be staring at me. Just staring me down...like that dude in Tiananmen Square. Daring me. I'll admit that at this point, the brainless little fucker called my bluff and I folded. With the black one gone, there was room for a milder swerve into the empty oncoming traffic lane, so I started to lean the bike over. It was then that the little bastard decided to make its move.

He took off...and for one brilliant, inspiring moment his wings caught and heaved his disproportionately large rooster body majestically into the cool morning air.

Unfortunately he picked the wrong direction and flew directly into my steel toed workboot, which was resting comfortably on my right-side peg at the time.

He bounced up a few feet, hit my knee, then bounced again over my shoulder and off into space. After a momentary "oh fuck," I pulled a u-turn in the next drive way a block or two up, images of a cripped, broken-winged rooster screaming out its last moments on the pavement filling my head. I started back, realizing I hadnt been paying much attention to the scenery and wondering how I would spot where I hit the bird...cause otherwise, he might be a pain to track down.

Turns out my fears were unfounded...as I rounded a corner, I found myself in the middle of a large cone of feathers sprayed about 20 feet down the road. I u-turned again and found a strange white lump on the side of the road. Pulling up next to it, I saw that, in a past life, it was most definitely a huge fucking bird...it also wasnt moving. I nudged it with a toe a few times...still nothing. Realizing it to be a domesticated bird, I played the coward card and peeled out for the main highway.

I stopped at a gas station a few miles down the road to fill up, and then made a gruesome discovery: my brake lever was full of feathers and my pantsleg was covered with them too...hundreds of little pieces of white fluff stuck to me with bird blood.

The sheer absurdity of the situation hit me right about then, and I had to sit down for a minute I was laughing so hard.

I really think that my bike is some sort of death magnet. Seriously.

5/8 - 5/15

2008-05-22T04:48:14Z

Yup...Im late as fuck with this. Oh well.

In addition to being late, I'm also going to commit one of the cardinal sins of posting images online: html rescaling. I don't have access to a computer right now that will read my camera's card, and I'm way too lazy to download all of my pictures and rescale them in paint on the work computer...so...sorry, folks. This shit's gonna suck.

Got the order to rig down at Graywolf on the evening of the 7th...wasn't really prepared, to be honest, and didnt feel like setting out in the dark. Decided that I'd sleep another night in the unit and take off first thing in the morning. Ended up spending the day with Chase in Shreveport...switched out phones and providers, and now I have nationwide roaming. Looks like I'll actually have a phone to use from time to time. Combined with the ghetto cigarette lighter mod I did on the bike, I should have contact with people...this is good, since I've been having some problems lately.

The bike's sick...

Not sure how, really, but something's up. I noticed on the highway when I was passing that at 85mph, it would start to surge under me...like it would try to accelerate, then the engine would starve out and it would lag back....then it would catch up and take off again, over and over again. With some experimentation, I realized that on flat ground this always happened at 85mph...with minor variations for uphill/downhill. Since it varied downhill, I knew it wasnt a governor or anything like that...even though it'd be retarded to set one for 85mph, regardless. Ran a can of seafoam through the tank to see if it'd help...it didnt. Checked my air system, and its clear. Only thing left is the fuel system, which means ripping out the carbs. Im terrified of ripping out the carbs. I may do it after this job is over when Im not pressed for time. I wouldnt do it at all, but I noticed something slightly more worrisome on my way to work the other day: bike tops out at 75mph now. Fuck.

Leaving for Graywolf...goddamn there's alot of stuff on the bike. As an aside, this is also the last time I saw the house...it's been sold since I've been gone...

So I originally thought it'd be an awesome idea to take a picture of my bike next to every "Welcome to" sign I saw for each state. Then I entered Mississippi on a bridge at midnight, missed Alabama's sign entirely, and promptly said fuck it. But at least I have Louisiana :)...

Gray Wolf was about 10 miles north of Ruston, Louisiana. In addition to being an actual town with food places and wal-marts and the like (which I'm not used to...usually Im in the boonies), Ruston is also one of the most beautiful places I've ever been. That area of N. Louisiana is big for logging, so the forests are amazing...my rig was actually in the middle of a fairly dense one. They just cut out a square big enough for our equipment, and left everything around us untouched...

This isnt going to make any sense to non-oilfield folk. Me and my boss, John, were making bets on how high the CC filament would read before it saturated out...this is the highest I have ever seen in my life. It actually did a little over 1500 units, but I wasnt quick enough with the camera. That shit was insane. You will also note that the TC is registering LESS than the CC. Our shit was mega fucked up.

After we rigged down, I went to eat at Chilis and had a few beers. I was originally planning on going on a short trip to Arkansas, but seeing the shitty weather up there I realized it had been a very long time since I'd gone swimming. With that, I decided on Florida.

Headed SE from Shreveport through Alexandria and managed to accidentally wind up on Highway 1. Highway 1 runs significantly more south than east and ended up leaving me on the gulf coast south of New Orleans with no way east except through the city. I drove into town and parked on Oak St while I hunted for Maddie's number...by sheer chance she was home, free, and lived about 3 blocks from where I'd randomly decided to park. We sat on the porch of her apt for a few hours and had a few beers, then as the sun went down I decided it was time to get back on the road and find a place to sleep for the night. Thanks for the beer, Maddie...we definitely have to do it again. Next time you have to take me around the city, though.

As a note, Plaquemine, Louisiana is amazing. I didnt spend much time there, but I should have. I need to go back.

I rode I-10 through downtown, and around the superdome and ended up on the bridge to Mississippi. As I crossed I saw a sign for the "Mississippi Welcome Area," which seemed to be a giant ass rest area. This seemed like an awesome place to sleep, so I haded that way. It was indeed a giant rest area, and I managed to find a picnic table in a dark corner of the lot near where the RV's parked. I pulled the bike up next to it, threw my sleeping bag on the table, and crashed out...only to be woken up by the security guard around 2AM. He told me to leave, so I packed and hit the road again, shivering my ass off every mile of the way. Ended up at a Love's truck stop about 30 miles down the road...parked in between a few semi trucks and slept on the bike. Woke up at 6am with a backache like a son of a bitch and hit the road again...an uneventful ride through Mississippi and Alabama later, I set foot in Florida. There arent any pictures of this part of the trip...

I ended up in Pensacola and decided I didnt want to drive too far down the peninsula. Looked at the map and saw what looked like a good coastal road, so I jumped on 110 and headed south through Gulf Breeze and ended up in Navarre.

The beach was beautiful. I bought a 6 pack of high life and staked out a spot in the shade, and watched the water for a few hours. After a while, a toddler came climbing up the steps to the gazebo I was sitting in...he walked up to me and grabbed two fistfulls of my pants leg...I smiled as he turned and ran off around the table. His dad, a middle-aged hippie in a tie-dye shirt, with dread-locks and a matted beard ran up in pursuit. He made it up the stairs and stopped short...he stared at me for a second and asked "Whats up, big guy?"

I smiled and told him I was just watching the water, then held out a beer. He waved it off, then grabbed a seat nearby. We talked for a few hours...he told me about living in San Fransisco and his years of following the Grateful Dead. I told him I was traveling the country on my bike...he laughed and asked if the purple bike dying underneath all the bags in the lot was mine...I chuckled and told him yes. His son's babysitter walked up a while longer and took up a seat...he told me that I'd be a fool to waste money on a motel, then drew me a map to his house and told me to come by when I was sick of the water. I told him I'd take him up on it if I stayed around. He shook my hand as he left and finally introduced himself. His name was Water Gardener, and his son was Ocean. He said he lived his life tending plants, and eventually he figured they had become one in the same...so he changed his name. He told me his second love was the ocean, so he gave that to his son...then he hopped into his beaten up crown vic and sputtered down the road.

I bought another 12 beers and sat with his babysitter, Sarah, for a few hours. She told me about Alabama and Florida. About making a living selling bootlegs, and about her son. As the sun started to slip lower on the horizon, I gave her a ride home to Gulf Breeze on the bike and found a ratty motel for the night. As a new rule, I dont drink before I hit camp...turns out I cant ride for shit with beer in me. Coincidentally, I also got into my first bike "wreck" when I dumped it doing 10 or so mph in the parking lot of the motel mid U-turn. I had a bruise the size of a softball on my ass for a week...which is not nearly so large as the one on my ego when a few fishermen sitting outside ran over to help me stand the bike back up. Dumb as hell.

I got a shower and spent the night watching Indiana Jones and Conan the Barbarian while I got drunker and ate pizza. Some nights, I feel like a king.

I woke up around 6:30 or 7:00 the next morning and got moving. It was not nearly as pretty out as it was the day before. I realized that I didnt have many pictures of Florida, so I stopped in Pensacola and shot a few across the bay to Navarre. The bridge in the distance leads across...its miles long. It was neat.

Yup...alot less pretty.

Palm trees are important.

I rode north through Alabama towards Montegomery. On the way I ended up in a small town called Prattville. Cruising through, I found this abandoned dam/factory...it apparently dates to the 1800's. I snuck into part of it and looked around. None of the pictures, save the ones from the outside, came out. Lame. It was a beautiful place though.

Same place, but shows more of the old dams. If you climbed up a ladder, you could go into the old control houses and stuff...following the ridge around, you could get into the factory. There are alot more factories there than you think. All of them abandoned and neglected.

Leaving Prattville, I ran into the freakiest thing I've seen so far on the trip. It's called the Cross Garden, and some in the area call it "Hell's Warning Label."

First you just round a corner and see a few random crosses sticking out of the trees on the side of the road...then you realize how big it really is.

Apparently the garden was made by a local man who lived in it. It occupies the land surrounding several houses and is made from random trash. It is also covered in barbed wire. The man who made it is apparently dead now, but his family maintains it all in his memory.

As a note, this place is huge. Pictures do not capture it. It goes far back into the tree line, and occupies both sides of the road. Im not sure if its ok to go back into all of it, but the barbed wire seemed to insinuate that it wasnt. One of the family members sat on his truck's tailgate and stared at me the entire time I was there, so I didnt leave the side of the road...he didnt try to be friendly, so I didnt try to trespass.

Further away. Bike in the lower left for scale.

Another angle. The three crosses in the background are high up on a ridge...the garden appears to go all the way around, then up the side of the ridge. Its fucking big. There are also several rusted out trucks up there with the crosses...they have things spraypainted on them. All of the cube looking signs in the foreground are the casings from old A/C units. Ironically, many say the same thing: "HELL IS HOT, HOT, HOT!"

The driveway to one of the houses...at least in this one, some of the signs are legible. The shed in the back right is apparently the family's private "temple."

Kind of redundant, but this place is trippy so I'm posting all of my pictures.

Better view of the crosses up on the ridge. In the foreground, where all the crosses are laid on the ground, is called the "sex pit." Apparently a few of the areas of the garden are dedicated to specific vices/sins. Aside from 1-2 signs explicitly saying sex is a sin, this area really isnt all that different from the others...

Houses on the other side of the road. I assume these guys are relatives too.

More random...then my favorite: The Drunk Pit. I dont know if these were cans from people getting drunk in the garden or if he went out and collected them himself, but the message is clear. Its also sideways, cause I cant straighten shit out atm. Sorry. Turn your head.

Weird shrine near the drunk pit.

After this, I rode north to Birmingham. The John Barber bike museum is supposed to have the largest collection of motorcycles in the country, so I figured Id check it out. Not a huge bike guy, aside from liking to ride, but $10 for the largest collection in the US seemed like a deal. No pictures from here, but it was actually cool as hell. Had stuff pretty much from the turn of the century...

Vulcan the Iron Man, overlooking Birmingham. Also sideways...I think Ill rotate all of these at once when I get home so theyre not retarded...until then, once more, turn your head :). The statue is on the top of a cliff overlooking the city, and actually gives a really nice view. If you pay you can go to the top and look out from a deck up there...it isnt much higher, so I didnt bother. The statue itself is supposed to be the largest domestically produced iron statue in history. He's big. Apparently iron mining/workingis a really big fucking deal over here.

Birmingham, from the foot of Vulcan. And some bushes.

Birmingham again. More bushes. In retrospect, I maybe should have sprung for the elevator ride to the top of the statue...

The mayor here was apparently obsessed with Greece back around the time of his term. After visiting there, he swore he would try to share the country's beauty with his hometown. He ended up building this dome on a cliff near his house...its called the Temple of Sybil. It was eventually relocated to it's present location overlooking the highway in Vesuvius Falls, south of the city.

It started to get dark, so I figured it was time to hit the road and find a place to sleep. Ended up sleeping in the Tannehill Forge Park (sp?) west of Birmingham.

The next morning, I started west into Mississippi.

I heard about the Windsor Ruins, so I figured I'd look. This plantation was supposed to be the largest in Mississippi...it survived the Civil War, then burned to the ground shortly after. The ruins were left abandoned until recently, when the owner donated them to the state of Mississippi, which put a foot high wire fence around it along with a historical marker. There is no park or anything...just a sign leading off of the two lane blacktop on the other side down a dirt road...the trees press in from every side, and the place is eerily quiet. There was one other guy there taking pictures when I arrived...we talked for a few minutes before he left, then I was there alone.

It was an amazingly peaceful place to be. I kinda wanted to sleep there for the night, but it was too early to stop...I continued on westward.

Theres a town in western Mississippi called Rodney. Its supposed to be a ghost town, but its still on most maps. I heard conflicting things about it, but I decided to go. My GPS even had an entry for it, though it tried to lead me the wrong way...turns out the road has been closed a very long time, and the only way in now is around 10 miles long through often-flooded dirt and swamp.

Rodney was apparently (relatively) big in pre-civil war times, and was supposedly a shipping center along the Mississippi River. It is famous for a minor battle that took place within the city limits, where it's church was shelled by the Union warship Rattler. The church still stands, and a cannonball is visible poking halfway through the brick facade.

I was told that there was only one old woman living there, and that she was the last to hold out. Apparently if you talk to her she will tell you the story of the town. I was also told that a nearby hunting club had made the town their own, and that another visitor had arrived in the eveningtime to find deer carcasses flayed open and hanging from the eaves of houses, spotlighted with portable lights.

I wasnt sure what to expect.

I drove through the last of the tight forest into a clearing, and realized that I was suddenly surrounded by decaying buildings. I dropped the kickstand on the bike in the middle of the road and got off, then began to walk around the overground field that was the town center. Looking at the broken sign on this building I noticed the remains of the letters "AF & AM." Looking a little harder, I made out the (half) writing above. This building is a Civil War-era Masonic Lodge.

Abandoned general store.

Gas pump in front of the general store. The city held on for awhile into the present century before it died out to the point it's at today. When this store was open, gas still had lead in it. Now there is only the one dirt road going into town, and I doubt many folks pass through needing to refuel...

I noticed as I walked around the square that some of the run-down houses had satellite dishes, and there was more than one modern car in the areas. The stories of one lone woman sticking it out in Rodney appeared to be false. This was confirmed as I walked back to the bike...as I reached for my helmet, I heard a motor in the distance. Turning around, I saw an old man driving a gas golf cart down the dirt road with a bag of feed in the back. I walked up and waved...he stopped next to me, and we chatted for a bit. I noticed he had the same workboots as me...and after a minute, he looked down and I think he noticed the same. Looking me up and down and noticing the grease and mud still in my clothes from work he asked me what I was up to...told him. He asked how many of us there were...I told him just me. He gave me a strange nod, then looked off to the sky for a minute. The flies were bad. I had to swat at myself constantly to keep them away...the horseflies left red welts all over my neck. He sorta came to for a moment and told me they were bad this year. Bad every year. They'd get better soon...then they'd be back. After a moment he told me this used to be a perfect place to live. Then it went bad. Just went bad...it always goes bad. With a quick wave, he stepped on the gas and slowly pulled away, sputtering down the road to the other side of the square. I swatted off a few more flies, hopped on the bike, and began working my way back out to the main road.

I slept that night outside of Natches, Mississippi in a park.

I thought this was humorously racist. Its on the highway south of Natchez...its only open for lunch, sadly. I had already eaten.

Come on...you know that's hilarious. You eat inside the giant woman's skirt and the restaurant is called Mammy's Cupboard. Hehe..."cupboard."

Drove west into Louisiana, and began to wonder why work hadnt called me in yet. Decided to go to Vidor and visit family while I waited, since it was sure to only be a day or two. Two days later they sent me back out...right outside of Vidor. Im lucky as hell...I get to stay home at my Uncle's for the day, then commute to work for the night. Its about a 45 minute ride to Kountze, but it's pretty, so Im not arguing.

This well should be done in the next few days, then its off to Houston til June 7. Then to San Marcos to watch my cousin graduate HS, then onward with Aris toward NY.

Further updates as events warrant.

Mileage (this leg): Approx. 2400
Gasoline Cost: $99

Ruston, LA

2008-05-08T02:34:31Z

First hop of the hobo trip ended today.

Thought we would be working for a few more days, so I had managed to settle into a routine...boss woke me up around 3 this afternoon and told me that we had been cleared to rig down and go...so...we did. By the time it was all said and done, I was tired and it was getting dark...instead of starting off towards my next stop, I decided to stay the night at the rig and sleep in the unit. First thing in the morning, I'm setting out.

Was originally going to head north to Arkansas, then cut over to Oklahoma, and loop back down to TX/LA when my next job order came through...treated myself to a sit-down dinner tonight and managed to catch some of the news. Turns out there are going to be storms and flooding in AR for the next few days...figure I might wanna hold off on going for awhile. I think I may go east instead. The original loop plan cut the entire SE part of the country out of the trip, but maybe if I just make a quick trip over there for the hell of it, I can include it in.

Speaking of which, there was another relevent piece of news...all of our operations in Arkansas, Wyoming, and Montana were shut down. My request to the company to be moved further out was denied...they told me that Ruston was likely as far out as they had jobs...it was the end of the line. Looks like my plan to hop job to job isnt going to work as I had hoped...but I'm still making good money by riding the bike. Good mileage ftw.

So far my ghetto packing strategy is holding up decently. On the ride here, I suffered only one minor casualty...that bag in the last picture that appears to be hanging way too low...well...it was. Every bump I hit knocked the corner of it against my back tire and slowly ate through the bag. There were shreds of fabric across the hole, so the stuff inside didnt fall out...but it tore the bag up pretty well. Patched it with duct tape and all is well.

Decided that before I leave this site, I am going to downsize my gear by one bag. Whatever it takes, I'm going to lose one backpack...its a pain to carry so much, even though all of it is useful. Spent some time going over it all, and I think I'm pretty close. Tomorrow Ill drop the damaged bag off at the post office and send it home iwth whatever junk I manage to cram into it.

Got bored at walmart earlier...ended up in the tech section. Saw a tom tom on clearance for $130, so I snatched it up...then realized that it only has 2 hours of battery life on a charge and can only be charged with a USB cable or car cigarette lighter. My bike has neither. I kicked myself in the ass for a good half an hour over that one...then got a fairly stupid idea. Found a "cigarette lighter extension cord" in automotive that was 10' long and noticed an interesting coincidence...it took 12V and my bike's alternator cranks out 12V. Too good to be true? Got back and hooked up the boss's meter to the bike and found my mistake: both are 12V but the socket has a max current of 5A, while the bike puts out 8A. Jumped back on and went to Radioshack....45 minutes later I cobbled together a random assortment of resistors and a 5A automotive fuse for good measure and now the bike has a lighter socket. I think the GPS might make life a bit easier down the road...once I find a mount to attach it to my handlebars.

So...for the running summary to date:

Hop 1 (4/23/08 - 5/07/08)
Houston, TX --> Ruston, LA
Beginning Odometer: 4081
Ending Odometer: 4433
Total Mileage: 352

Gas Expense: $19
Gas Reimbursed by Company: $158.40

Worksite:
Gray Wolf Rig #14
N 32.63937
W 92.54681

Pictures to follow later...no way to pull them off of my camera.

Final List / Loading

2008-04-22T06:55:28Z

Got my call today...next job will be right outside of Shreveport, LA. Excellent.

Went to walmart and loaded up on stuff to take. Even managed to get it all on the bike...though it looks real, real terrible :)

___ ear plugs -- Stole some from work. Bike is loud as shit at hwy speed.
___ shovel -- GI surplus ET.
___ flashlight
___ flashlight batteries (spares) (standardized everything to AA)
___ ground tarps -- No camo. Got flat gray.
___ folding knife x 2
___ nylon cord x 2
___ cotton rope
___ sleeping bag
___ waterproofing spray and seamlock -- Have two cans in my oilfield bag. Worth its weight in gold.
___ GPS/Map

___ bags (plastic large garbage)
___ bags (grocery bags)
___ zip loc bags
___ hobo tool (has knife/fork/spoon/can opener/bottle opener...
___ metal bowl
___ bag of rags (10 rags)
___ bic lighters x 3
___ water bottle (1L)
___ water bottle (3L)

___ boots -- My steel-toes from work. Leather and oil/water proof.
___ gloves -- My mechanics gloves from work. Not the best, but they'll do for now.
___ hat (wool) -- Might get cold at night...have a few from work.
___ helmet
___ jacket -- Work jacket
___ pants for riding (Levis) x 3
___ rain gear (poncho)
___ shirts (long-sleeve) x 3
___ socks (cotton) x 2
___ socks (wool) x 3
___ underwear (insulated, long johns) x 1
___ camp shoes/slippers -- Sandals
___ shorts -- For swimming/laundry.

___ backpack (small) x 3 -- Most everything is packed in these.
___ camera & film -- My digital
___ cellular phone -- Yup. Outside of coverage area once I leave Texas/Oklahoma/Louisiana/New Mexico...gonna be turned off and used exclusively for emergencies.
___ sterile bandage x 1
___ pack of sterile 4x4's x 1
___ bottle of betadine x 1
___ tube of triple antibiotic x 1
___ sun screen -- SPF 70, for pale.
___ bar soap
___ insect repellent/bug spray
___ prescription medicines -- Not on any anymore.
___ pen
___ tooth brush & paste
___ towel -- Most useful thing in the universe.
___ weapon (optional) -- Everyone's gonna laugh at this one, but here it goes. Discussed with my dad and others how much it sucks to have to disarm for the trip...debated a camp hatchet or sleeping with the ET with me to whack at people with. Dad thought for a second, dug under his register, and handed me a 12ga marine flare gun with 4 shells. Good for my emergency bag if I drive off the road and cant be seen...if Im too hurt to move, I can always blast at passing cars til someone gets pissed enough to come and kick my ass. And as long as I just load it when Im about to sleep, its legal everywhere I go. And if its not legal in Canada, Ill surrender it...it cost $20. I assume getting shot in the face with it would suck quite a bit too.

___ chain lube -- Yes. At least 1 can.
___ duct tape -- Fuck yes.
___ insurance papers & info -- Above.
___ zip ties -- along with rope, insanely useful.

___ Honda Service Manual for my bike
___ electrical tape -- Can use duct tape...but doesnt take much space. Ok.
___ pliers (needle nose)
___ pliers (standard)
___ screwdrivers (assorted or set)
___ tire inflator -- Fix a flat. For cars. Oughta be able to pump up a bike tire like 3 times off of that...
___ hand tire inflater -- Bike pump. Worst care scenario...I thought it was unnecessary, but family folk insisted.
___ tire patch/plug kit
___ tire pressure gauge
___ wrenches (crescent 4" and 10"; good ones) -
___ wrenches (metric Allen)
___ wrench (spark plug)

There will likely be more additions down the road...but thats it for now.

And...everything loaded:

GHETTOBIKE!

Travel Journal

2008-04-21T08:45:02Z

This probably doesnt really mean shit to anyone who can read this journal, but I created a separate LJ for my trip: bumlife.

I figured that there were people that I would like to share my progress with that I may not want in my personal journal, so this seemed like the way to go...now I have something I can pass out to random people.

To add to the annoyance, I will be mirroring each post I make that is trip related in both journals, so theres really no need to actually add it or anything, unless you just want to see double posts on your friends page :)

[Unknown LJ tag]

Ha.

2008-04-21T04:50:31Z

So something funny happened to me today. I kind of expected it, really, but it was still a surprise in its own way.

I actually got kicked out of the oilfield for being too drunk. The oilfield. How drunk do you have to be to be too drunk for the oilfield? Im still figuring it out.

Oh well...I'm now banned from working with Sanchez Oil and Gas Corp., but the office is apparently gonna send me out to another job in a day or so. About to quit anyway. :)

Pictures:

My unit in Freer. I thought it was worthy of photographing because of the awful paneling. Its like working in some sort of giant, tacky tree. I feel like a keebler elf sometimes.

Got drunk and decided to explore. My rig is in the background. Truck got stuck and wouldnt go any higher...the grade was kinda steep. Once I popped the brakes off, it rolled back down the hill.

Same shit, different angle.

Random path I followed for awhile. Led all the way up the hill, then dead-ended at the edge of a cliff.

I liked the way the sun looked coming through the clouds.

Sitting on the top of that hill this morning, drinking a beer and watching the sun rise, I thought again how much I'm going to miss this. Strange.

More trip stuff / supply list

2008-04-19T05:58:10Z

Went on my customary drive around the ranch after I got off tour this morning...had another thought.

My company, TMC, doesnt log too many wells outside of Texas/Louisiana...but it does a few. Mostly in states that touch Texas, since we use our in-house trucking company to run our trailers/gear out there. I know for certain that we have an operation up near Little Rock, AK...or at least we did a few months ago. What if instead of quitting, I convinced the office to give me jobs along my trip route?

I obviously couldnt do it more than once or twice, since I'd get too far away quickly, but it would let me keep earning money while I travelled and I would get to explore another area for the two or so weeks I was on location. Plus I could bill the company for all of my mileage, which would get me a few hundred miles down the road for free. Not the biggest deal, but every little bit helps...

Maybe just do one hitch in AR, then move NE up to DC and NY for the first leg. I think we have a well in Wyoming/Montana...not sure who's logging it. Maybe theyll send me there.

Been thinking alot about what gear to take with me...found a premade list on some guy's website. Its not right, but its a place to start. I can obviously buy more shit on the road, but I want to be as prepared as I can. Here's his list, with any notes I think are relevent. Feel free to comment with advice/additions/deletions/etc.

CAMPING/SLEEPING EQUIPMENT

___ air mattress -- No. Will use a bed-roll or just sleep in my bag.
___ candle lantern -- Nope. Would rather use one of those flashlights that works as a lantern.
___ candle lantern candles (spares) -- Nope. See above.
___ compass
___ ear plugs -- Stole some from work. Bike is loud as shit at hwy speed.
___ shovel -- GI surplus ET.
___ flashlight
___ flashlight batteries (spares)
___ ground tarps -- Finding one in camo. Might help hide me/the bike if I sleep off the road.
___ knife (Buck) -- Fixed blade = legal trouble. Several cheap walmart folders.
___ knife sharpener -- No. With a 99 cent knife, Id rather just toss and replace it.
___ nylon cord -- Plus rope. Always need rope.
___ pillow (travel) -- Nope. I just use my clothes/jacket for a pillow anyway.
___ sleeping bag
___ sleeping bag waterproof-bag -- Gonna bring a bunch of plastic hefty bags. One use of many.
___ sleeping hood (hat) -- No. What the fuck.
___ sleeping pad (insulated) -- Debating. Wonder how cheap they are at GI surplus...
___ sleeping pad chair/sling -- No. If I need a chair, Ill use the bike.
___ sven saw -- Debating substituting a small hatchet for this. Or just not taking either...
___ tent -- Nope. Either sleeping under the stars or under my tarp if its raining.
___ tent rain fly -- Nope. No tent.
___ tent waterproof-bag -- Nope. See above.
___ waterproofing spray and seamlock -- Have two cans in my oilfield bag. Worth its weight in gold.

COOKING/EATING EQUIPMENT

___ bags (plastic large garbage)
___ bags (plastic small trash, 1 for every 4-5 days)
___ can opener
___ cup & spoon
___ dish towel
___ food -- Probably just 1-2 cans of stuff. Buy more as I go. Shit takes up too much space.
___ coffee bags -- Nope...dont drink much coffee. Seems like a PITA.
___ coffee creamer -- Nope. Above.
___ coffee mug (insulated) -- Nope. Above.
___ coffee sugar -- Nope. Above.
___ energy bars/raisins -- Not a bad idea. Small.
___ soy (2-3 small boxes) -- Fuck no.
___ fork
___ jack knife -- Jesus christ how many knives do they want me to take? I usually eat with my cheap ass folding knife anyway...granted pipe dope/engine grease tastes funny, but its all good.
___ knife -- Nope. Too many fucking knives.
___ match case -- Maybe? Bic lighters might be easier...but they suck in wind. Maybe camp matches are worth it?
___ matches (farmers) -- ?...see above.
___ matches (in sealed plastic bag/bottle) -- ? ... above.
___ matches (waterproof) -- ? ... above.
___ napkins -- Nah. Dish towel works ok.
___ paper towels -- No. Above.
___ plate -- Just one metal one. I usually eat out of the can, but it could be useful.
___ pot gripper -- Not sure if Im gonna take a pot or not.
___ pots -- Maybe one...heating things in a can is a pain, but Im not sure.
___ soap/scrubber pads
___ stove -- Debated but thinking not. Either just take a can of sterno or use a fire.
___ stove gas (white gas) -- No. Above.
___ stove wind screen -- No. Above.
___ water bottle(s) (2) -- This worries me, especially since Ill be in the desert alot. Need to find something sturdy that will hold alot.
___ water carrier (1 gallon)

CLOTHING

___ Riding Gear -- Gonna be my regular clothes.

___ boot sock liners -- Nah.
___ boots (canvas mukluks or rubber type) -- My steel-toes from work. Leather and oil/water proof.
___ chaps -- Nah...not that cold out.
___ gators -- Nah...though it would add +10 to pimp points.
___ gauntlets -- Nah. Overkill.
___ gloves (cold weather) -- Good idea. Not for the cold, but to cover my hands...sunburn.
___ gloves (electric & wire harness) -- No. Dont think so.
___ gloves (hot weather) -- Have some, might just wear the cold weather ones...these are open on the back of my hand and sunburn squares onto my hands :)
___ gloves (rubber) -- Nah.
___ gloves (wool liners and dish washing rain gloves) -- Nah.
___ hat (wool) -- Might get cold at night...have a few from work.
___ helmet
___ jacket -- Debated getting a better leather one...warmer and more crash protection. Gonna just wear my work jacket instead.
___ jacket (polypro ski) -- No.
___ jacket (wind breaker) -- No.
___ jacket liner & stuff sack -- No.
___ neck warmer/long scarf -- Debating. Might get cold once I cross into Canada...at 60mph, kinda cold = really fucking cold.
___ pants (leather) -- Too Mad Max. Ill stick with jeans.
___ pants for riding (Levis) -- Yup.
___ rain gear (boots, vest, etc.) -- Need a slicker and rain pants. Getting wet blows.
___ rain totes & stuff sack
___ rain suit
___ sailor hat for riding without a helmet on hot days -- No thanks.
___ shirts (long-sleeve, turtle-neck T-shirts) -- No turtle necks, but long sleeve ftw. Again with the sunburn.
___ ski goggles for riding without a helmet -- Nah.
___ ski warm-ups -- Nah.
___ socks (cotton)
___ socks (neoprene) -- What the fuck is neoprene? Thinking no.
___ socks (wool)
___ spandex shorts -- No. Doing the world a favor.
___ sunglasses -- No. Never really wore them.
___ sunglasses (spare) -- No. Above.
___ underwear (insulated, long johns) -- Hell yes. Got some in my oilfield bag already.
___ Camp Clothes -- No. Same as riding gear.
___ camp shoes/slippers -- Sandals. Camp showers are fucking gross.
___ changes of clothes (3-5, rolled up) -- Thinking 3. More socks than anything else.
___ down vest -- No.
___ laundry soap -- Nah. Ill buy it as I go.
___ moosehead hat -- No. What the fuck is that anyway?
___ shorts -- For swimming/laundry.
___ swimming suit -- No. Covered elsewhere.
___ warm clothes for evenings/nights -- Deleted a few lines of sweaters/long sleeve shirts/vests/etc. Gonna just layer...have long johns and long-sleeved shirts. Its summer...though Im going to some cold places, between layering and wearing my coat, I should be ok.

PERSONAL EFFECTS

___ backpack (small) -- Gonna pack pretty much exclusively in backpacks. Will make it easier to tell which stuff is where. I have alot of them.
___ book (paperback) -- No.
___ camera & film -- My digitcal + extra batteries.
___ campground guides -- Nah. Ill find them as I go.
___ cellular phone -- Yup. Outside of coverage area once I leave Texas/Oklahoma/Louisiana/New Mexico...gonna be turned off and used exclusively for emergencies.
___ chapstick -- Hate the shit, but good idea.
___ cigarettes -- Havent had one in 5 weeks. :)
___ contact lens stuff -- Dont wear contacts. Extra pair of glasses might be useful though...
___ DoD lighter & fluid -- DoD? What the hell's that?
___ electric razor -- Nah. Just not gonna shave. Biker look ftw :)
___ fanny pack -- Nah. Too gay.
___ first aid kit -- Yes. Need another list for this one. Will work on that later.
___ fishing gear -- Nah. Dont see me fishing much.
___ grease pencil -- Nah.
___ hand cream -- Something for sunburn and the like might be useful.
___ sun screen
___ hand soap
___ hand/nail brush -- Ha. No.
___ hi-liter -- Useful.
___ insect repellent/bug spray
___ knife -- Another fucking knife? No.
___ maps & magnifier -- Sans magnifier.
___ prescription medicines -- Not on any anymore.
___ membership cards (AMA, VRC, RPAA, Parks, campgrounds, etc.) -- AAA card.
___ negotiables -- Does that mean cash?
___ cash ($25-$30/day/person) -- Guess not. Only gonna carry ~$50 on my person at a time.
___ checkbook -- No. Debit card/cash only.
___ credit cards (gas) -- Above.
___ travellers checks -- Doubt it. Maybe for Canadia. Or Ill just convert some cash ahead of time...
___ pen
___ pencil -- No. Hate pencils. Only pens.
___ post-it's -- Eh. Probably not.
___ radios/tape players with mini speakers -- No.
___ radios/tape players batteries (extras) -- No.
___ reading glasses (if you are over 40) -- No.
___ sewing kit -- Maybe useful for small rips. Small though, mind as well.
___ shampoo -- Head's shaved again. I just use bar soap.
___ skin moisturizers -- Nah.
___ sun glasses -- No. Again.
___ tapes -- Nah. No player.
___ toiletries
___ tooth brush & paste
___ soap dish + toothbrush holder.
___ towel -- Most useful thing in the universe.
___ visine -- No. Not planning on being stoned.
___ watch -- Since my phone will be off, probably ought to wear one.
___ weapon (optional) -- Hot topic of debate. Since I got my CHL, I carry 24/7. I would definitely feel safer carrying on the trip, since Ill be sleeping in rest stops/public areas. Unfortunately, if I do then I will be excluded from travelling through states that do not have recipricocity for a TX license. Plus I wont be able to cross into Canada. As much as I hate to, I think Ill have to travel unarmed. Might just carry the camp hatchet mentioned above close to me on the bike/in my sleeping bag when I sleep.
___ weather radio -- Nah.

BIKE PARAPHERNALIA

___ anti-fogger (detergent) -- Nah.
___ bags (large ziplock garbage) -- Mentioned elsewhere.
___ bike rain cover -- Camo tarp. Mentioned elsewhere.
___ bug rag -- At this point, Im thinking just a bag of rags from walmart would be the way to go for my washrag/dish rag/bug rag...
___ bungee cargo net
___ bungee cords
___ chain lock -- Nah.
___ chain lock key (extra) -- Nah.
___ chain lube -- Yes. At least 1 can.
___ chain masterlink -- Yes. Debating a spare chain also, just in case.
___ chamois (to clean windshield) -- No. No windshield. Debating getting one, but may not.
___ cloth rags -- Mentioned elsewhere.
___ communicators (bike-to-bike radios) -- No. Expensive, and travelling alone.
___ duct tape -- Fuck yes.
___ emergency equipment -- Not very specific...
___ fork protectors -- ?...not sure what this is.
___ fuel bottle (backpacking type, 2-quart filled with extra gasoline) -- Want at least 1 gallon extra fuel...hopefully 2-3. Definitely.
___ glue (gorilla snot) -- Nah.
___ glue (super) -- Nah.
___ helmet face shield/visors (clear, tinted, & extras) -- Mine is tinted. Might get a clear for early morning/evening.
___ ignition key (extra) -- Dont have one. Hotwire, anyone?
___ insurance certificate (for Canadian travel) -- Have US insurance. Heard rumors of needing to extend my policy for trips through Canada. Look into this.
___ insurance papers & info -- Above.
___ lamp, headlight (spare No. ______)
___ lamp, instrument panel (spare No. ______)
___ lamp, taillight (spare No. ______)
___ lamp, turn signals (spare No. ______)
___ maps
___ padlocks & cables -- Nah. Ill be sleeping with the bike anyway.
___ radar detector & extra batteries -- Nope.
___ saddlebag key (extra) -- No saddlebags.
___ seatcover (sheep skin) -- No. Useless.
___ seat rain cover -- No. Ass will jsut get wet.
___ shoe laces (leather -- loop at one end for strapping) -- Useful.
___ zip ties -- along with rope, insanely useful.
___ sidestand plates -- Hm...maybe a chunk of 2x4. Wouldnt have thought of that.
___ tank bag -- debating.
___ vehicle registration -- Not carrying with me.
___ windshield polish -- No. No windshield.

TOOLS

___ duct tape (flatten the spool) -- Covered above.
___ electrical system schematic -- Dont have one. Dont think Ill get one. Hope it doesnt short.
___ electrical tape -- Can use duct tape...but doesnt take much space. Ok.
___ emergency blanket (Space Blanket) -- No. Just use regular bag + layered clothes.
___ emergency warning light (trouble light) -- No. Flashlights.
___ fuses (extra) -- Sure.
___ Leatherman Tool -- Might be a good idea...
___ multimeter -- Debating. Really useful, but thinking no. If my electrical has some sort of serious failure, Im likely just fucked.
___ pliers (channel locks, aka water-pump pliers)
___ pliers (needle nose)
___ pliers (standard)
___ screwdrivers (assorted or set)
___ socket set -- Think Ill just use a crescent wrench instead.
___ suspension adjustment tool -- Nah.
___ tire inflator -- The little CO2 bottle kind. Yes.
___ tire patch/plug kit -- Definitely.
___ tire pressure gauge
___ tire pump (small hand/foot) -- Nah. Using CO2 kit instead.
___ vise grips -- Maybe...
___ wire & alligator clip -- Maybe a random length of wire just in case. Or if I get a short Ill be riding only daytime til I can hit up home depot.
___ wrenches (combination) -- Nah.
___ wrenches (crescent 4" and 10"; good ones) -- Yup.
___ wrenches (metric Allen) -- Maybe...need to see how many allen bolts there are on the bike.
___ wrench (spark plug)
___ gas-fired soldering iron -- Hell no. Overboard.
___ spare shifter lever/clutch lever -- Usually the first thing to break in a minor crash, and will keep you from riding til replaced. People tell me its a good idea to keep just one (bike will only fall on one side per wreck)...need to check how hard it is to pull them off the bike.
___ extra chain -- mentioned above. Maybe?
___ throttle/brake cables -- maybe? Not sure how useful these would be.
___ spark plugs -- Yup.
___ random fuel hose and the like -- might be useful if I puncture a fuel/coolant hose and it wont seal with duct tape?
___ baling wire/rebar ties -- Like duct tape, but for repairing things that get hot. Like my exhaust.
___ Honda Service Manual -- I dont know what the fuck Im doing. Need to spring for the fucking manual before I break something I dont know how to fix...

Opinions?

kentheslayer @ 2008-04-18T03:55:00

2008-04-18T09:09:11Z

With all that in mind, I think my journal is going to become a trip diary for a little while.

Starting now.

I figure if I write out all of my thoughts and preparations here where everyone can read, maybe Ill run into some helpful advice that may save my ass a little further down the line. I still appreciate all of the destinations everyone gave me on my other post...theyre marked on a map at home, and I will try to integrate them into whatever route I end up riding.

So in figuring out when to quit my job, I guess I ought to start out with finances.

I decided to get a rough estimate of the distance from to Alaska by using mapquest. I dont intend for it to be truly accurate because I have no idea what route I'm going to take, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. Nor do I know when I will stop...I prefer that as well. With all that in mind, mapquest yields a distance from Houston, TX to Anchorage, AK of 4500 mi.

My bike gets its best fuel mileage around 60mph, so it looks like slow and steady is going to win the race. This works out to 75 hours road time.

I get around 50mpg if I dont do anything retarded. This equates to 90 gallons of gas. At $4/gallon (Erring on the side of caution. I dont like to be surprised), this will cost me $360 each way, for a total of $720 in fuel. This is also only straight there and back, which I'm really not intending to stick with.

I'm probably going to take 2 months off of work. Not sure, really. I lived for a long time on about $5/day for food. I can do better, but its easier if I do worse. I'm gonna give myself 15, just for the sheer hell of it. For 60 days, that will cost me $900. For 30, $450. I figure this will also include stuff like laundry and random shit along the way, since I know I wont eat $15/day.

Ideally, I'm going to camp the whole way and maybe take a hotel room once a week or so. Depends on how many campgrounds have showers...and how often I even pay to use a campground rather than just pulling off someplace. I'm not going to factor in this cost because it seems too variable. Call it $200?

I'm also going to neet stuff before I go. I havent finalized the list yet, however. I do know that I'm going to want a windshield for the bike though...my neck hurts like hell after 8-9 hours of fighting the wind and highway speed. That'll probably be $150 or so by itself. I was going to get forward controls to move the shifter/rear brake forward, since I'm tall and their current location cramps my legs after a few hours...but I think I'm going to wait on that...I cant find a kit for that for less than $130, and they only give a 4" shift.

Luckily I pretty much live on the road as it is, so aside from specialized stuff (bike tire patch kits and the like) I may not have to buy too much.

So, my bullshit fuzzy math yields the following numbers:
One month on the road = About $1150
Two months on the road = About $1600

Keeping in mind what I want saved for when I go back to school, I think I'll arbitrarily state that I can't quit my job until I have $5k in savings again.

Deal.

Too strange to live, too dumb to die...

2008-04-18T08:54:09Z

Despite being a filthy hippy, this guy just might be my new hero:

http://mopedtrip.com/

I find myself in an interesting predicament...interesting mostly because this one's entirely new to me.

I have a job where I make more money than I've ever made in my entire life. I also have no real expenses. Combining these two factors, I've been able to pay off all of my debts (aside from the school loans. Fuck the school loans.)...past experience has made me hoard like a bastard and I'm incredibly reluctant to do anything that would jeopardize saving more money. I've never been able to save before, and having been through several incredibly shitty scrapes, I like to work with a safety net.

On the other hand, I know I'm going to quit soon. I definitely want to go back to school, and since I've been accepted/confirmed my attendance I will definitely be going. The question then becomes when should I quit.

I originally figured Id quit in the beginning of July. I think UH wants me to go to some training stuff and whatnot starting at the beginning of August and running to the start of school...figured this would give me a month or so to do retarded shit before buckling down and being responsible.

So I guess here's where the problem comes up...I'm getting that twitch again. I've been having it for a little while now, but now its getting damn near unbearable. I find myself fighting constantly to avoid telling the office that I'm finished after this job...and honestly, I really am thinking that it's about time to give my notice. Maybe one more job after this one?

I think its time to disappear for awhile. Just pick a direction and get moving...

I'm guessing that I'm gonna have to sit down and have a negotiations session with myself.

Fuck it. I'm going to Alaska.

Brenham

2008-04-10T00:15:50Z

I should have gone back to work days ago. I'm not sure why they havent called me, and I know better than to push my luck by investigating...instead I just pretend like nothing's out of the ordinary...go on with that strange apprehension that at any moment my phone will ring and it'll be time to roll again. It's odd that I'm so content at home...this is out of the ordinary.

I woke up at 9:00 this morning to my phone ringing...drug it off the nightstand and saw that, to my surprise, it was Mark. After a grunted hello, he asked if I was free...then told me to boot up and meet him at Bissonnet and 6, cause he had an awesome ride in mind. 15 minutes later, I was out the door.

Mark owns 25 acres of land out near Fayetteville...a place he calls "The Hideout." It's mostly empty...theres a big pond and some cattle he allows a neighbor to graze there. In the middle, a clearing they made full of tents and ringed with picnic tables and bbq pits...all of it knocked flat and covered with dusty hoof-prints from some unfortunate bovine episode. 3 hours ride later, we arrived here, and after a walk around the property, reclined on our bikes and smoked a cigar. This was welcome, since I'm now somewhere between 3-4 weeks of not smoking.

Parked.

Pond.

Fenceline.

As we walked back to the bikes, it slowly started to rain. After waiting it out as best we could, we continued out towards Brenham and rode the scenic 309 along the Independence Trail and through fields of bluebonnets, then back south east again towards home.

9 hours later, I have a twelve pack of beer next to me and a stack of movies.

This has been a perfect day.

Doppleganger

2008-04-01T06:36:12Z

Oh my fuck.

So I'm sittin around at work, bored as shit, and I start messing around on facebook. While Im skimming over the feeds, I see that Jake changed his profile...so...bored as fuck, decide I'm gonna read it. After that...skim over his wall, and happen across this post that Laura left:

KENNY'S EVIL TWIN!
http://www.makeoutclub.com/xixbenjaminxix

I figure its a joke...that Im gonna open it and its gonna be a giant picture of a dick or something. Then I click it and see my face and think goddammit...she made a profile with my picture and she probably said I was gay or some shit. So while I'm reading the profile, something hits me: my ears arent pierced. HOLY SON OF A WHORE, HE'S NOT ME.

But he IS me. But...he's not.

It's honestly kind of unsettling.

Slippery Slope...

2008-03-31T02:37:35Z

With the well almost finished, I'm left with quite a bit of time to kill...so I've been spending quite a bit of time on the net lately. I stumbled across a discussion on facebook debating gun control in the US, and ended up hunting down alot of links and such that I had read in the past...I wasnt going to repost them here, cause god knows everyone hates my pro-gun rambling...but I found something today that made me laugh til I thought I would die...so, while I'm not gonna make this huge and insane, there are a few links I definitely have to pass on...

After the Dunblane Massacre in 1997, legislation was introduced in the UK to ban the private ownership of handguns in order to deter gun related crime. It turns out that in the two years following the ban, gun related crimes actually rose...and continue to rise currently. Source.

The continued existence and use of handguns in the UK is attributed primarily to smuggling, and a rather obvious thing has become clear...criminals, who are by definition characterized by lawlessness, don't mind breaking the law. This behavior is also mirrored here in the US, as was pointed out in a recent study completed by the FBI's institute for behavioral science. This study, entitled "Violent Encounters: A Study of Felonious Assaults on Our Nation's Law Enforcement Officers," finds that a criminals choice in weapons used in homicides and attempted homicides against peace officers is driven almost purely be simple availability. Very few criminals admit to having a clear preference or selection in weapons, but usually just carry what they can either find for cheap or steal. The study focused on 40 specfic incidents, and found that all but one weapon was obtained illegally, either through theft or via a street transaction. No weapons were obtained through the now-infamous "gun show loophole," and only one weapon was picked due to the criminals particular preference for it.

Since criminals are not being deterred by existing laws, but are simply breaking them, clearly more laws targetting law-abiding citizens are called for.

The FBI's crime report page has a different set of statistics for the means by which criminals obtain their weapons, which is to be expected considering the previous study encompasses only 40 incidents and all of which were directed solely at law enforcement officers. According to a 1997 prison survey, 80% of inmates incarcerated for a gun-related offense admitted to obtaining the weapon through illegal means (theft, smuggling, street transaction). 18% obtained their weapon through a retail store (wal-mart gun counter) or pawn shop, and 2% obtained it through a gun show/store or flea market. This still appears pretty cut and dried, in my opinion.

As a sort of aside, looking at the type of weapons involved in assaults against police officers, here, it can be seen that the most prevalent weapon used is a simple handgun. "Assault weapons" and the like are barely represented, despite the assertions of the gun control lobby that "assault weapons" and other semi-automatic rifles are turning our streets into a warzone.

So, before I get too much more long-winded, here's the final point of this post. 11 years after the banning of handguns in the UK, I found this.

That's right. Guns are banned, yet crime remains. So now...ban samurai swords. Swords. I really cant think of anything better to say about this than what has already been said.

Now...if it stopped there, it would be simply idiotic and hilarious...but no...it doesnt. Look here.

So in a country where guns are outlawed and theres a camera on every corner...personal freedom and privacy are gone, but crime remains. Giving up your rights and freedoms for a promise of protection can be a slippery slope, it seems.

Unconsolidated sands blow.

2008-03-29T02:13:10Z

Dear Mr. Tomplait,

Congratulations! I am pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to the Graduate Program in the Department of Chemistry at the University of Houston for the Fall 2008 semester. This offer comes with full financial assistance in the form of a teaching assistantship (TA).

Attached to this e-mail are the offer letter and the teaching assistant agreement form. Please sign the teaching assistant form and return it to us indicating that you are accepting our offer.
You will also be contacted in the near future by xxxx who is in charge of recruitment for our graduate program.
Please feel free to e-mail me (x) or xxxx if you have any questions.
Congratulations again, and I look forward to meeting you in August.
Sincerely,
xxxx

---

Goddamn that's a relief. After they lost my transcripts again, I was kind of afraid I had come in too late in the application cycle. So I guess that effectively maps out the next few years for me. Kind of a relief to know that I dont have to stay out in the oilfield...but its kind of sad too. This job makes me angry sometimes...but I know I'm going to miss it. Theres something about waking up some morning to a phone call...then picking up and moving without a second thought. Starting over in a new town, surrounded by new people. No one knows who you are...no one really cares. It's oddly comfortable. No bills...no commute...no drama.

I've come to learn quite a bit about myself in the last year or two, and this job has only been a part of it. One of the more confusing, yet important bits that I've been thinking about is moving. I cant stay in one place very long...it took me awhile to realize it, but its the truth. I love every place I go for awhile...some longer than others...but it always ends the same way. Every day I get a little more irritated at the most pointless things...I feel confined...routine. Everything usually goes to complete shit, which I figure is probably due to me being constantly pissed at everthing and everyone...then I pick up and move. I always feel better, but at first I thought it was the thought of a fresh start after all the bullshit's over...now I realize that wasnt it at all. Its just the act of moving. I think that I generally just cant sit still...I dont know how I used to do it, but now I genuinely cant...which is the main appeal of this job, I think. This leads into the confusing part. More than anything, in the last few years I've been yearning for some kind of stability. I've been wanting to save up and buy a house...to have a place that I know is there even if I'm not. Just to know that it's there, with all of my stuff, and that if for some reason I wanted to...I could go there. At first I thought this meant that I really just wanted to settle down and stop moving around/doing stupid shit...then I realized that wasnt the truth at all. I want to move more than ever.

The other day I was talking to my boss while he was eating dinner and we were joking about Deadliest Catch and trying to figure out what the most dangerous jobs in the world would be, cause we work in the oilfield after all and we should definitely be mentioned somewhere. I looked it up...#1 is loggers (the lumber kind), #2 is pilots (this includes cropdusters, so it makes more sense when you dont think of it only as airline pilots), and #3 is crabbers. I was curious how much a crabber got paid...I mean, its ungodly dangerous, you're at sea for months at a time, you work 16 hours a day...it oughta be pretty good. Especially if people can do it for a season and then just sit around in town for a few months til the next boats go out. Turns out as a salmon harvester, you can make around $5k in a 3 month contract. Crab boats wont take you if you're green...but if you worked your way up, it could go up to $10-$15k/contract. Really not that much money. The real jist of this, I guess, is that I spent alot of time reading about industry in the frontier areas of Alaska...and now I kind of want to go. I have no real interest in fishing or processing, but they're drilling out there...maybe I could do that. Theyre also making another natural gas pipeline, and apparently recruiting like mad for people to do manual labor on the pipe. I guess maybe it wont happen now...but for a moment I had that urge to just pick up and move. Drive until I hit snow and start stomping the docks. Find a ship and just...disappear.

Maybe someday.

Freer

2008-03-23T00:59:23Z

Got called back to work last Saturday...sent me to the Las Lomas ranch on the outskirts of the thriving metropolis that is Freer, TX. As far as I can tell, the city's only claim to fame is it's annual rattlesnake roundup, which by sheer stroke of luck is coming up soon. Although I'm actually kinda hoping I can go, I cant help but feel lucky that they sent me into the middle of the desert right around rattlesnake roundup season, when one would assume that rattlesnakes are plentiful enough to be easily rounded up. I fucking hate rattlesnakes.

Its strange to be back in the desert again. Its a different desert, but it feels the same in some ways. We had a dust storm that lasted two days a few days ago...I think thats when the nostalgia hit...right about when I blew the sand out of my nose and started digging it out of my ears. Memories.

After the swamps in Louisiana, its an odd change. The sunrises are different here too...I dont quite know how, but they are. More colorful and less serene.

I've been waiting for cement to dry for nearly a week now. You read that right...I havent actually worked in about a week. Instead we just sit here on our 12 hour shifts...ready for the moment theres actually work again. By that, I mean I've watched 5 seasons of futurama, 2 seasons of The Office, and 3 seasons of Arrested Development. Yeah. I'm kind of horrified too.

I really need a rig-safe hobby, sadly I cant seem to think of one.

kentheslayer @ 2008-03-08T00:10:00

2008-03-08T06:12:54Z

At long last, I finally got my new toy:

Now if it would just warm up a bit and get a little less windy, I could ride for more than an hour or two at a time...

Fire.

2008-03-02T02:58:27Z

Got off work this morning at 5AM and decided to drive around the ranch for awhile and have a few beers. As I hit the main ranch road, I noticed this odd orange glow on the horizon...instead of pulling off into my usual sitting and listening to the radio spot, I decided to drive a little further and take a look.

Turns out the well next door blew out and caught fire.

A six pack, a pack of cigarettes, and a lawn chair later and I had a perfect view of the most beautiful dual sunrise...

I was wondering if anyone could do me a favor. If one was to take a ridiculously stupid trip around the US with no real destination in mind...where do you think it would be important to stop? Doesnt really matter what it is...but just tell me where and why...

kentheslayer @ 2008-02-03T05:54:00

2008-02-03T12:03:32Z

I was sitting around in the mudlogging unit a few nights ago when the stroke counter for one of the mud pumps went offline. After cursing profusely about having to fix yet another sensor in the snow, I snagged my coat and hardhat and went outside to investigate. Turns out one of the roughnecks had shoved it over to the side while they were replacing the liner and forgot to put it back...after climbing up on top of the pump and adjusting it back I hopped back down and started walking back. 10 or so steps away I hear this funny whining sound, which seemed to be getting louder rather quickly. As I turned around to look, I heard this astoundingly loud bang, followed by the sharp sound of alot of shit ricocheting off of the steel sides of the suction pit. I drug myself up out of the mud, where I had dropped and covered after hearing the bang, and walked over to get a closer look...the mud pump was screaming and twisting and slowly grinding to a halt, a huge hole opened in the 1" thick side of the housing. The hole happened to be located right about stomach level where I had been standing. My boss took this picture a few hours later when the sun came up:

I believe this reinforces the fact that I am an incredible badass. More than that, it got me an entire days worth of downtime while they trucked out the old pump to be rebuilt and brought in another one. Im kinda starting to love following this rig around...I dont think Ive worked more than half a tower per day since we've rigged up.

For a quick comment on the creepy, I walked into the company man's house a few days ago to drop off a report and found this staring at me from the wall:

Turns out he's trying to lose weight and get in shape, so he took a bunch of pictures from random bodybuilding magazines and the like and pasted his head over all of the model's heads. I understand the whole getting motivated thing, and in a strange way this all actually makes sense...but you have to admit thats one of the most fucked up creepy things you've seen in awhile. Really.

kentheslayer @ 2008-01-20T18:34:00

2008-01-21T00:38:47Z

"This job can get lonely," Frank said, washing a tray of drill cuttings in the sink.
"You see, Red, over time, you gotta learn little ways to entertain yourself."

He smiled, letting the silt run out of the tray as he turned it upside down on a neatly folded paper towel behind the sink.

"In fact, I was on some job five or six years ago...flies fuckin everywhere. I just let 'em be for the first few days, but after four or so I made up my mind to massacre the whole godddamn lot of 'em."

He grinned wider, hefting a nearby flyswatter and smacking the steel counter once for emphasis.

"Started in the bunkroom...they were thick in there. Just walked through. Whack! Whack! Got about 20 of 'em 'fore I shut the door and sealed 'em out. They were thick as shit in there...got the feelin' I was herdin' 'em more than I was killin 'em."

I smiled and laid my cheap paperback down on the table.

"Finally, I got the most of 'em, kinda shooed a few out of the door. But there was this one smug little bastard...just sittin' on the counter. I figured I'd play with him a bit. Smacked the counter around him every time he'd set down for a rest. Figured I'd see how long it'd take to wear the little bugger out.
After a little while, he was tuckered out...I mean pooped. Couldn't get him to fly for the life of me. Reached down, got 'im by the wings and just sorta set him there on my palm...couldn't even fly away, so I just sorta pet his wings for a second. Right as I'm doin' that, this roughneck comes bangin' on the door and walks in...
just sorta looks at me for a second, standin there with a fly in my palm, right next to my face as I'm pettin' 'im, and I just say 'It was good a ya to drop by, Gus, you just can't keep doin' this shit without tellin' me. Say hello to Irene and the kids for me.' So right there I just sorta toss him up in the air, and right on cue
he takes off and buzzes right on out through the window."

"Damn roughneck looked at me like I'd shat a fuckin kitten, takes two steps back and shuts the door...not even a word. Heard he went straight over to the company man tellin everybody 'Ole Frank's finally done it...the motherfucker's cracked. I walked up in the mudloggers shack and there he was, talkin to the goddamn flies. Confusin' part of it all is
the damn thing listened...'"

I leaned back in my chair, laughter coming in spasms, as he held his hand, palm up, right in front of his mouth and softly whispered to it, stroking a stubby finger gently across his palm. His weather-beaten face wore an oddly loving expression, broken only by one eye squinted nearly shut while the other flitted randomly about the room under a crooked baseball cap.

"Heard about that shit for weeks...company man come by right after, liked to a pissed himself. As I said, boy, gotta make your own fun out here sometimes. Shit...feel like a beer?"

"Words out of my mouth," I replied as I drug my dusty boots out from under the table and pulled them on.

I had spent the last evening scouting the various small towns surrounding the site for bars, so far without any luck...living in the middle of nowhere in a 30' shack with two strangers made you value personal time quickly, and I had hoped to find a place to sit and relax...a place with people and music, far removed from the constant, droning vibration of the drill.

Frank apparently didn't bother putting in quite as much effort as I had, a fact I learned as he hefted a case of beer into the cab of his truck and we drifted out onto yet another dark highway. A beer in my lap, I relaxed and watched the utterly meaningless darkless slip by in a flowing mosaic of barbed-wire fences and scrub trees. A lit cigarette dangling from my hand out an open window. We drove for hours. I didn't know where really...the time punctuated only by the sound of soft jazz humming from his radio. I could still feel it though...the soft, endless vibration of the drill grinding earth. We were separated by miles, but I still felt it resonating deep in my bones. Our path simply an elliptical orbit around the machinery that had ruled his life for thirty years, moving him state to state to rip through the earth
in search of oil...the machinery that had called me from the warmth of home into the middle of a cold field in Corsicana. I realized that every turn was a right, and there was no escaping its terrible gravity.

I felt the same thing the first time I went off-shore. The crane operator dropped our basket onto the roof of the platform and my boots had just thudded down onto the grey steel of the deck. Two floorhands rushed up and held their hands out as I fumbled the clasps on my workvest open and handed it off to the next hand to be transferred...the floorhands impatiently ushering us along into the radio room, anxious to begin transferring cargo.
As I signed my name and got my lifeboat assignment, the adrenaline from my first basket ride began to drop out, leaving me drained instead. Staring out through the windows as the medic updated the crew rosters, I saw only ocean. The press of the crowd around me waiting to be processed faded away and I finally understood what it was truly like to be alone. Alone past a car-ride to safety...past picking up my things and walking away. Alone to burn alive on this lone scaffold of steel, rising starkly against the
featureless blue expanse of the gulf like some grotesque spider. The feeling only lasted a moment as I donned my hardhat and was led out across the floor to the mudlogging unit.

Twelve hours later I lay in the dark of the bunkroom...the steel walls thrumming gently in time with the whirring of the generators. I turned over, closing my eyes...my hand picking up the vibration even in the steel of my bunk frame. It was then that a strange realization hit me.

I couldn't remember being so content.

Well Blowout

2008-01-13T01:40:19Z

On Monday, I met a unicorn.

On the first day of orientation, when I first started with the company, they explained to us the danger of a well blowout and our role in detecting such impending disasters. One of the owners reassured us by saying that in his 30 years on the job, he had never seen a blowout...but oddly, there was a guy in the company who had seen one his first four hours on the job. He didn't say anything else about him.

Every job I went to, someone referred to "that guy" anecdotally...no one knew his name and no one knew if he still even worked for TMC.

First day of class, one of the owners turns from the markerboard and makes a joke about how we should do our job and make sure to not burn the rig down, like Sedric over there. I looked at the logger sitting next to me, nearly agape. I asked if he was the one...he was. I told him I thought he was a unicorn, to which he responded with a blank look. You know...something/someone you hear about but will never see...like a legend. He laughed. Apparently he showed up to his first job at 12:00 noon...the rig went down at 4:30.

I found the pictures. Apparently it shut down I-10 for 12 days until the pressure burned itself out.

These pictures were taken on day 5 of the fire.

There was a trailer in the middle of the foreground...white, but now mostly black and charred. To the very left of it is the remains of a little white car...the only one facing the wrong way (parked front in, instead of backed in). That is/was Sedric's car.

All the way to the left, underneath that fallen catwalk...that is our mudlogging shack. It burned flat to the frame of the building. You can see our half-melted septic tank sitting next to it, as well as our water heater towards the back against the wall.

I also found this video on youtube...I think part of it was cut from news footage.