CHAPTER 31 The Grand Escape

During the month or two that I rented a room from my old friend Dan, I overhauled one old Rambler that Bonnie had bought for me. Not happy with the sound of the engine and with admonishment about its reliability, I gave it to a couple who were obviously on the run. How they crossed paths with my life, I don't recall. I helped one of my roomies rebuild his VW and in the process, made a new friend. For some reason, I had lost interest in the old Blue Bus and sold it for a whopping $326.00. During my stay I carefully avoided any involvement with the gay residents, a fact they seemed to appreciate.

As a matter of fact, I was harkening back to my auto accident at KCAC and found myself wandering "what if" I had made the few extra blocks to Peggy's house that day. "What if" she and I had connected? There was a challenge
there that I still did not understand. It is quite possible she didn't understand it either. About a year earlier, we had had a circumstantial reunion at Starbright Ranch which was now occupied with a cowboy-type hippie friend. He had a horse that was anything but tame. Peggy challenged me to ride the horse and even as spirited as it was, I decided to give it a try. Our friend the owner, cautioned me about his love of running and advised me to be extra careful. I was no equestrian, but I have ridden a few mounts in my day. I heaved myself up in the saddle.

The stallion took off at a dead run. I had managed to get my feet in the stirrups first thing. It saved my butt. This horse was dead set on some serious play, heading for a couple of barbed-wire fences framing the dirt road into the ranch. I found his rhythm and dug in. Just before the fences, I gave him a kick he could feel. We flew over first the one fence and landed in the road for just a bound, then over the second fence. I was thrilled to pieces. I had never jumped a horse before. Just before he almost scraped me off on the branches of a mesquite tree, I hauled him about and kicked him again. This time he vaulted the fences with a certain respect that it had been my idea instead of his.

Back at what had been my house in earlier years, the gang was still hanging out on the front porch. They hadn't seen the ride. Peggy was determined to ride as well. With two of us begging her not to do it, she sniffed her condescension and let the horse have his way.

This was a prideful, stubborn lady that one does not argue with. We found her at the bottom row of barbed wire on the first fence row. That pretty well describes the relationship between Peggy and I. In spite of these lessons learned, we decided to stop being pen pals, and try to get together. That was my motivation to hitch hike from Arizona to Florida in December of 1972.

Thumbing a ride to anywhere is a mixture of boredom and adventure. I caught a ride with a trucker in an 18-wheeler, that danced gracefully on the ice for almost 100 miles near Amarillo. Just outside of Dallas I hooked up with a traveling salesman in a small sedan that got me past Arkansas. From there I caught a ride that carried me into Nashville and from there, things became surreal and entertaining. I was picked up by a carload of teen-age boys who were on an adventure of their own. I have no idea whose car it was, but their furtive glances and encrypted conversation made it clear that they thought I was a Very Important Person on a Very Important Mission - perhaps an undercover agent or spy, on a mission having to do with National Security. Good grief - what mad imaginations. Might be acid heads but definitely actors in a play of their own. It was like attending a performance by The Firesign Theatre.

I tried to straighten the kids out but they would hear nothing other than what their imaginations told them. They asked me where I was going and I told them. Florida. The phrase "without delay" was bndied about several times as they discussed it with each other. It wuld have been hilarious, were it not so strange. We arrived in Fort Perce early in the evening and I made it a point to walk the last mile or so to Peggy's apartment.

For the next two months we shared a life that was pleasant, occasionally fun and outstandingly unremarkable. There were occasional trips to the beach and other fun things to do, but other than a visit from some runaway kids, the whole experience was markedly mundane and workaday. I found a job within sight of the house at a small engine repair shop. She continued her clerical career at a nearby college. Finally, the whole thing just blew up in one of those spats that people sometimes have just to blow off steam. At the words "I would just as soon kill you as look at you", I left. I spent the night with a friend I had made at a local radio station, then went back the next day to visit with her just once more. I found myself temporarily at least, welcome and made the short trip to pick up some Kentucky Fried Chicken. When I got back, she had tea made.

I had an aunt once that displayed that kind of rage I had seen on the previous day. While her back was turned, I switched tea glasses - just in case. We enjoyed lunch and I kissed her goodbye.

The trip up the coast highway to Daytona Beach was made in two jumps, with one of my rides being a pair of young mothers with kids. Daytona itself was something of a haze. I remember a sleazy hotel and a lot of stares from people. When you are really unattached and traveling, you become much more interesting I guess. I made a phone call to Bonnie for bus fare to Phoenix. I should have thumbed it. For whatever reason, it became the Bus Ride From Hell. Rather than use all the Western Union money for a bus ticket to Phoenix, I purchased one as far as Dallas. That left me with a few bucks for meals and smokes.