66 Follow that truck

I can tell you where I went next. I can tell you some of the things that happened. But I can't always tell you exactly where I was when something happened. The next leg of the trip is really a blur. Honestly, it's pretty amazing that we survived.

We found trees to sleep behind near the Great Salt Lake. Kind of chilly under that open sky without all that pavement like in the eastern cities. Stars. 

Walked. Long walks. Diner. Plenty of coffee. Milk. Washed up a little. Got plenty of stares.

Thumb out. Truck pulls over. We were heading south. If we had known. If we had a map we would have jumped out at Interstate 70 and just headed west. Maybe. But we didn't care. We were seeing things we had never seen before. We'll get there.

I don't have much of a recollection of where we were let off. I'm thinking it was near Green River. The driver left us at Highway 191. He probably thought we'd get on I-70 and make that turn. But we didn't. We ended up on Highway 191 headed further south. I don't think we got anything to drink. Maybe we used the bathroom at a gas station and drank water out of the sink. Hydration was not a term anyone used back then.

Ok. A trucker pulled over. We were ready to jump in the front. But he told us the back was empty. We could stretch out. It was cool. This was before every deadly homicide show was on TV. Ok. Ok man. Sounds good. Thanks.

Get in there. He closes the doors. Pitch black. Strange. Strange. Ok. We're going. We couldn't see the road. We didn't see that it was a bit of a back track east to keep going south on 191. Maybe then we would have said "Thanks never mind. We'll get out here." But we were in the dark. We were cool with it for a while but then we started thinking and talking. "Hey. Is this weird? Is this guy weird? How much oxygen is in here?" We were really wondering. It's all cute nostalgia now, but there were a lot of people back then that didn't like the hippie type. In the big cities too. Have you seen Joe (1970), Peter Boyle?

The guy near Salt Lake in the 40's car warned us. This is the first time on the trip I really started to get nervous. We started banging on the front. I don't know when he started to hear us. We kept banging louder. Then started yelling "Let us out of here!" He kept driving. You might be thinking, oh they're just freaking out. But I began to sense real danger. And stuff happened. I couldn't do it now, but I used to practice blood curdling screams at the top of my lungs. For fun. Scare people in cemeteries and such. I let loose with some of the bloodiest screams you've ever heard. We didn't stop banging. He finally pulled over.

"Let us out of here." He did. There we were. Walking along 191 South in Utah. We were ok.

 Heat. Dry. Walking. Just keep walking.

Thinking it was past Blanding that we got out because we never did get to see any mountains around there. Oh boy, not many cars driving these roads in 1972. Looks like some kind of stop up ahead. 

I remember the red dirt. Red dirt? Dry. Red rocks around. A little restaurant. White against the red dirt. Plenty of people parked. There was probably a gas station too, but since we weren't going to use one, I don't remember. Sign on the front door. "No hippies. No back packs. No bare feet." Oh. What are we going to do? LBJ said, like usual "Fuck it." We left our little bags and sleeping bags behind some kind of bush or tree. In we go.

Regular old diner. Pretty full. I remember imprints on my brain of patrons. Not the same kind of truckers we were getting rides from. Harsher. Little did they know... we weren't weakling hippies. We were New York hippies. Not that we could do anything, but we sure as hell knew when to run.

I'll never forget this. The waitress took our little order. I always got a big glass of milk. Bone power. She had that Flo from Mel's Diner hairdo. I loved Flo from Mel's Diner but I didn't know that then because that was later on. She would have been nice. But this waitress was a mean one. Bad. She put that milk down in front of me. Looked me right in the eyes and knocked that big glass of milk all over me. Every damn drop. And then she kept looking at me.

I'm not completely crazy but I stood right up and yelled something at her. The whole god damn place stopped and looked. LBJ couldn't believe it either. He said "Cool it. Let's just go." That red plastic cup made it onto the floor too.

Oh. They hate us. We better go. It's not like we have a car to make an escape in. I didn't put my head down when I walked out and I sure as hell didn't pay for the milk either. Now I was going out into the hot sun with wet milk all over me. Oh my God. I was salty from the lake and sour from the milk.

64 The wind blows free

Those truckers were mighty fine folks. Got another ride out of Ogallala from a kindly trucker. I guess it gets lonely on the road. I was sitting squished up in the front seat for a while by the window. It seemed like we were riding a slight hill and I noticed the landscape was more arid. Yeah, it was browner that time of year. "Where are we?" "Wyoming." "Are we going to go through Colorado?" I knew that Colorado was south of Wyoming, the nuns made sure of that. I just wasn't sure where the road was headed. "No. We're going to miss it completely." 

Oh well. We're going to California anyway. We'll see mountains. Yeah, there's some pretty nice mountains in upstate NY and New England, but just not as big and grand.

I suppose the truckers take the easiest route. The least mountain passes. Less climbing means less gas, less wear and tear. So we were headed through high prairie country.

I'm sure we pulled in somewhere to use the bathroom, but it wasn't memorable and it was quick. This guy planned to get us through Wyoming and he wasn't taking his time. I felt like spreading out a little and went in the back. My usual daydreaming and staring at the ceiling, I fell asleep.

We started making more turns like we were pulling in somewhere and it woke me up. "Where are we?" "Utah. I've got to let you out here." I'm guessing we were somewhere near Coalville. Thanked him and jumped out. What a different looking landscape than the east. The sky really did look bigger. The clouds sat differently in the sky. No gray haze. Big blue. Deep blue. Wow.

Multiple tracks

Cool. There were a bunch of trains sitting there. Freight trains not passenger trains. Not the Long Island Railroad. God damn. I loved tales of depression era hobos hopping trains. Woody Guthrie traveling the country and singing songs of the common people. Excuse me for saying this, but we are just weak imitations.

There were multiple tracks and plenty of trains parked. It was a dream of mine to jump one of them. "Let's jump one!" Then we were walking up and down trying to figure which ones were headed west. It was a great time. Found what we thought looked good. Nice sliding door. Just as we were grabbing it we heard a deep mean voice. "Hey, you!" He came walking up fast. Pretty damn mean. "You get out of here now and don't come back. If I even see you again the sheriff will have you." He didn't smack us with a club like they did during the 30's, but we sure got the message.

Boxcar Bertha

Well, that dream was shattered and I thought "why?" But I guess who knows... maybe something crappy might have happened. We got the hell out of there. Pretty sure he meant business. Practically ran out to the road and stuck our thumbs out. Kept walking fast cause not much was driving by. Some kind of luck was with us and a fairly young guy with short blond hair stopped. The car was from the 40's and awesome. Just the way it was back then. One heck of a big front end.

We jump in and he said it was lucky he was driving by. "It's all Mormons out here. You might have been in trouble." Huh. This was before South Park and the internet. I was sheltered growing up in New York. There were cultures there, but little did we know just how much else was out there. Later I learned that a lot of Mormons are also really kind and damaged just the way recovering Catholics are.

He was so happy to see us. He was beaming. He wanted to hear about our plans and where we had been. He could only take us so far but he said it would be a better place to catch a ride. We never made it into Salt Lake City that day, but he dropped us right by the Great Salt Lake.

What was this place? Look at it! A lake that lasts forever. Mountains in the distance. Big blue sky. And white stuff all along the shore.

That was another long day. We started in Ogallala early but it was getting on. "I have to go in." "No. I have to go in." It was pretty shallow where I walked in. I don't think there were but a couple other people around. I heard from my dad about the Salton Sea. He traveled to the west and southwest a number of times for business. He really thought it was cool the way you could float so much easier on the salty inland water. I mean I heard about it a lot and he took slides. I had to try it out. I figured it worked the same way here. Walking, walking. Damn it's not like the ocean. Still pretty shallow. Hmmm. Lots of flies liked the water too. Who cares. I'm going in.

Wow. It was great. I was rolling around. But then I did something I didn't normally do. I was a good swimmer. I somehow breathed in water from the Great Salt Lake. I started choking and I mean big time. I got up and went to the shore and laid on the ground. I was gasping but no air was going in. I know there were people around me, but I turned over and just started gagging. I thought for sure I was going to die. If I wasn't such a healthy specimen, I think I would have. All those hold your breath underwater contests paid off.  They tell me I coughed up some water. Let me tell you that was not a pleasant feeling.

Time to find a place to throw our sleeping bags down where no one could see us.