reminder

sometimes you may feel different from everything around you, but at the end of the day, we're all the same, but unique. it doesn't matter if you're black or white, old or young, barely 12 inches off the ground, or 10 feet tall. we all came onto this earth for a reason, and we all have to go off. so, don't be so sad.

by winona holmes, age 9.

there was nothing. i fell and stood still at the same time; the visceral darkness rushed past like i was being swallowed into the blackness of eternity. pulled apart in every direction at once, i felt i would dissolve if i resisted. i started to cry out but the sound was drawn back down my throat like a bubble of air and lodged in my stomach.

everything began to spin around me, slow and sickening like a nightmarish carnival ride. the darkness began to orbit around me, or i around it, i couldn't tell. a single point of red light flashed, out of place yet strangely familiar. it hung stationary in the mad swirling night, my only beacon. with an enormous effort i reached out with my left hand. i seemed to be clutching something already, poised to stab, to plunge into the only light in the world.

everything stopped. streaks of white light raced through the darkness, wriggling past, swimming at great speed as i watched. i was afraid. the red dot seemed friendly, safe to look at so i focused on it to the exclusion of everything else.

"i know this thing" i thought. it made no sense that i should have any reference point here, but i continued to reach for it as the last of the white lights flew by. i now saw a black rectangular shape around the red speck, blacker than the surrounding night, like some kind of portal. the red light grew in intensity and began to illuminate the darkness.

the world began to take shape around me. i was in my studio at home. i looked at the black rectangle and the red light. it was my bass rig; i was reaching out to plug my instrument cable into the amplifier. unreal but wholly natural at the same time. i knew what i had to do. i turned the volume knob on my white p-bass and struck an open d with my thumb.

beautiful sound. living sound. sound with blood coursing through it's veins. sound in the air. sound flowing like every river on earth. sound reaching up to the heavens and back.

i played. wave after wave flowed over me and past me. the vibrations came right into my soul and back out again. the open a string made the tides flow and the water crash on earth; e made the ground shake and volcanoes erupt. the world smashed apart and reassembled in an instant. twelfth fret harmonic on the g string sang with the voices of a thousand angels.

"now, michael, now!" the voices came from everywhere and nowhere. tears of electricity flowed out of my eyes and merged with the stars which now shined brightly around me. the blackness had returned and was threatening to engulf me again.

"now!" loving yet insistent.

i wound it wide open, every setting on 10. i closed my eyes. an instant of terror mixed with resolve. i knew i had to let go. i struck all four strings at once. the red light exploded in a cataclysm, a supernova of sound blew past me and i was drawn headlong through the speaker of my amp into a tunnel, an artery of vibration. time blurred, stopped and started. i felt something rushing over me, like water. i began to gasp and choke. i was drowning and i couldn't move. i heard splashing. someone grabbed me by the right hand and pulled me out of the water.

"it's ok, mako, it's ok."

i knew the voice. i stood up and wiped my eyes.

"hi, dad."

...or the ever popular refrain:

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM

SA TA NA MA

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM SA TA NA MA

WHA HEY GURU GURU

SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA

WHA HEY WHA HEY

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM SA TA NA MA

GURU GURU WHA HEY

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM

SA TA NA MA

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM SA TA NA MA

WHA HEY GURU GURU

SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA

WHA HEY WHA HEY

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM SA TA NA MA 

GURU GURU WHA HEY

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM

 SA TA NA MA

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM SA TA NA MA 

WHA HEY WHA HEY

SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA

 WHA HEY WHA HEY

SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA 

WHA HEY GURU GURU

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM

 SA TA NA MA

OM MANI PADME HUM OM MANI PADME HUM SA TA NA MA

 WHA HEY WHA HEY

SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA

 WHA HEY WHA HEY

SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA SA TA NA MA

 WHA HEY GURU GURU

i get tired now. i didn't use to get tired.

"belief is an intellectual process. faith involves action."- prophet omega

a steel monster with shimano gearing

the year is 1974 summer, i believe. this would be the summer before i met d. although i have no time-line connection between those events in my mind. i had to talk dad into it and most likely the 'i'm sixteen now' arguement came into play. he finally agreed but he still felt compelled to tell me all the horrible things people could do to you by the side of the road.  

the plan was to ride through southern and eastern oregon, to boise idaho and back, possibly looping through bend on the way home. why boise was my my target then, i'm not sure. never was except that it was a place far away that i had never been to. also, i had expectations about the snake river gorge, which turned out to be a routine river crossing. 

my bike was a steel monster from penny's with shimano gearing. your typical '70's ten-speed. i loaded it with a rack, and also carried a pack on my back with way too much stuff in it. the hatchet? come on. 

 

so there i was...early summer, my bike and my stuff. that's all you need, right? i was off. i headed east on highway 140 out the olene gap, which i remember passing still being a little cold in the morning. over the tracks, past the little park on lost river, and on. 

let me look at the map...yes, past dairy, a store and gas station town. i don't remember much of that stretch until i got to beatty, where i stopped for a soda. it had warmed up and i was ready for a drink. beatty had this reputation for being a tough little town. full of indians. and cowboys. sure enough as i came out of the store i met this indian with tattoos on his forehead, or maybe tears from his eyes. we talked for a minute, probably about my trip. i remember being a little scared, but it was perfectly fine; i rode on. 

bly mountain was the first big hill- between beatty and bly i think although i don't see it on the map. i guess i made it over the hill with relative ease; i would remember if it was a killer. i cruised through bly past the lumber mill; i don't remember stopping. the map shows quartz mtn. and drew's gap summits but all i clearly recall is cruising a long straight road into lakeview at the end of the day. 

i remember eating at a dairy queen type of place and getting a hotel room for the night. the people working there thought it was wierd for someone to ride up on a bike and ask for a room.  i had to give them the serial nummer on my bike in lieu of a license plate number. i got the room . i was tired, but not dead tired; i had gotten a lot of sun. i called home and checked in with the folks. day one was over. 

the next day i cruised away north on 395 out of town. it was cold again. at valley falls i stayed right at the junction. the alkali flats and abert rim came into view ahead, with the rim a striking feature on the right, thrust up next to the lake. i remember feeling good in the cool morning air. getting past the rim, the scenery changed. desert. lots of desert. an undulating road with almost no traffic. i rode for miles with no hands, singing david bowie songs. lots and lots of sand, sage and juniper. 

the next thing i recall is the town of wagontire which i remember only as a store/ garage. i got a soda, rested a while, then rode on. i felt pretty good. to finish the day, i cruised into the town of riley at the junction with hwy. 20.

riley was, and probably still is a store and an rv park at the junction. no motel, and a chance to use all that camping gear i'd been hauling around. i bought food at the store and asked about camping; the people said it was ok, but i don't think i had to pay for a spot. i set up my camp; my pup tent and sleeping bag and crawled in for the night.

it was windy and quite cold that night and i remember hearing lots of coyotes howling loudly. i felt like i was a long way from home right then. 

the next morning i felt stiff and sore from sleeping on the ground, something i wasn't used to at the time. i was off again. all i remember of that morning is cruising into the town- city by eastern oregon standards- of burns. i'd get to know burns much better... anyway, i stopped in town for breakfast at a cafe. the town seemed busy; maybe because the day before was so quiet and still. i headed off again after eating. i clearly recall that dead-straight highway lined with power poles. it went on forever, vanishing into the desert. there was a headwind and i was feeling tired already. the straight stuff ended only to take me over two consecutive passes; stinkingwater pass then drinkwater pass. oddly named, there's no water in sight. 

it was getting hot. this would be the hardest day of the trip by far. it was really a struggle getting up over the hills; i may have pushed my bike up over one section. i remember being really, really tired. it was  probably the most strenuous day of my life by the time it was over. i remember cruising downhill after drinkwater pass. it felt great. i passed the sign marking the time zone change, then cruised into juntura a few miles later.

the town had a small motel, gas and store; the usual. i think it was getting late by the time i got there-i remember the sun going down. i talked to dad in the phone booth for a bit, then pulled my bike into the room and went to bed.

day four. the map shows the road following the malheur river although i don't remember any of it. in fact i have little memory of this day until  reaching the idaho border. i was excited about reaching my goal. i crossed the snake on a small bridge- it's not a canyon at that point-and smiled. i felt free. 

shortly i came to the freeway; i-80 and no bikes allowed. i had to go around. checked the map and found a way not to boise, but to the suburb of caldwell. close enough. i got a motel room and then some food. i felt excited and a bit confused. it seemed like just a city; only special because it marked the far point in the journey. a bit of an anti-climax maybe, but there was plenty of road ahead of me.  

i hung out the next day mostly at the motel. i wanted to stay off the bike if possible. i went swimming at the pool later on. there was a group of young adults there, who chatted with me a bit. i wound up feeling self-conscious about being alone and left for my room shortly. i gathered my things for the return trip, to begin the next day.

now, my bike had been holding up well on the trip so far. the tires were beginning to show some wear, no doubt because of all the extra weight. anyway, i left the motel in caldwell retracing my steps-pedals?- for the first time. i had sent a letter to my friend dave; sort of to prove that i had made it, and i was wondering if i would get home before it arrived. how was i to know...

i crossed back into oregon, making good time with a tailwind, when my rear tire blew out. shit! i stopped to make repairs. it was still early and i was in a hurry to get on. i remember getting frustrated with the amount of stuff i'd brought as i unpacked it to fix the tire. my mind was racing... i got the new tube set up on the rim, then grabbed my pump. i began pumping furiously when the plunger stuck and the pump folded in half. i stared in disbelief at the broken pump in my hands. i was too far away from any town to walk. it was like a dream. all i could think to do was stand by the road with my thumb out and hitch. cars passed me by. i wasn't panicked but very concerned. 

shortly, a vw van pulled over. a woman in her twenties got out and i explained my situation. she was very friendly and offered me a ride. before i knew it, i was loading my crippled bike into the van and off we went. her name i don't remember but she was young and i thought she was pretty. all i remember anout her was that she was a school teacher. she was headed back down 395, the way i'd just come, then south from lakeview. i figured i'd get out there and try to get back to klamath.

it was an interesting ride. for the first time on the trip, i had someone to talk to; company. i don't remember what we said. pretty soon, we pulled over for a break. she had some food and we ate. i remember standing behind her watching her lean forward into the van while she fixed my sandwich. i looked at her body, but then felt a little guilty; i was so shy...we cruised the rest of the way into lakeview. 

she dropped me in a park in the middle of town. i was unsure what to do. she said she was sorry that she couldn't take me any farther toward home, but she had to go. i said thanks and we parted ways. a ride from a woman, wow. 

i remember feeling confused, then calling home. i can't recall if they offered or i asked, but a ride was arranged. i killed time by hanging out in the park with my flat tire bike and pile of stuff. finally the folks arrived. mom and dad to the rescue. they seemed to be in pretty good spirits, considering. so, the bike went in the trunk and off we went home. 

so the trip didn't go according to plan, but i considered it a success and still do. i gained a strength and confidence in myself that wasn't all there before. i had covered a lot of ground. i was young and strong. 

 

yes, it's working out well; giselle was kind enough to take us in. it's an ideal situation, i must admit. normandy is so beautiful... when the fog is lingering in the mornings we walk the beaches and pray for the lost souls. afternoons we bicycle or walk in the meadows above the bluffs. the wildflowers are incredible. if we have a concert in the evening we walk to the cathedral to play; a night off we spend on the veranda watching the sea. the days here have a special quality; though they are few indeed there is a sense of timelessness so pervasive you could lose yourself easily and completely. one day following another so logically and perfectly...maybe it's always that way, and we just don't notice it. but i would have to say that if god has created a heaven on earth, then we have somehow found it.

happy birthday winona j. my beautiful daughter and soon-to-be world famous artist. nine in '09. love you so much sweetie. 

ascension

rising star

   full of life. you are

   born of light. you are

   full of life, you are.

  split the night you rising star

rising star

  leave this night. you are

  to make this flight. you are

  born of light, you are.

  split the night you rising star

rising star

  ending life. you are

  born of light. you are

  full of life, you are. 

  split the night you rising star

for f.e. holmes

"you are what you believe you are"- prophet omega

the guitar had a multitude of strings stretching out infinitely in each direction. some were as fine as human hairs, others as thick as tree trunks. i reached out to grab at them as i fell past but the vibrations threw me back spinning. from one to the next i bounced creating a loud  crisp note painfully high to impossibly low in a jangled discord of sound my rubbery body the plectrum sounding out a mad symphony. i fell past the strings still ringing out. there was nothing. i heard the sounds and the space between the notes leap out. the music receded. only punctuations in the silence. 

early 1976, recalled 25 nov. '99 journal entry excerpted and/ or modified.

...i'm pretty sure that i made it all the way to san francisco. now, this was epic; alone, eighteen years old, dropped off in the middle of the city, totally clueless.

i realised that i was never going to get out of town before dark. luckily, i got dropped off by golden gate park and i found a large clump of bushes that could afford some cover for the night. it was dark at this point, so i could slip under the bushes, get out my sleeping bag, and crash unseen. i was gripped; not knowing if i'd get arrested, assaulted, or what. but i'd chosen a good spot and slept undisturbed all night. i woke up early and got my stuff together before anybody saw me. 

the weather was clearing up. it was sunny and i felt good, but i was anxious to find my way out to the coast and the highway south. it was quite a ways to the highway, and i remember getting on a city bus to expedite the process. i think i got off the bus when the ocean came into view. i simply turned left and started walking south. i remember passing some basketball courts. nobody was playing; it was early and i seemed to have the place to myself. i felt alone but confident and happy. i was learning to calmly navigate the unfamiliar; to let the world go by for a few moments while you do what needs to be done- a skill i would later hone to perfection in australia. it was still the middle of town and i must have stuck out my thumb, lacking any other options, and got out of town with relative ease. 

the weather was fine. at last, the rainy weather was behind me for a while. i don't recall specific rides, but i remember standing by the side of the road in watsonville ( castroville? )- artichoke capitol of the world, and then cruising through the town of carmel.

 my destination was drawing near. i got picked up by two pretty girls in a mustang convertible.i could not believe my luck.  they were mid-20's and very friendly. my hair was getting blown around wildly so they gave me a rubber band to tie it back with. they were rock climbers and they described their hobby to me. we smoked one as we cruised south on the highway, and they dropped me off right at the trail head. it was one of my best rides of the entire trip.

so there i was. i got my things in order and headed up the trail, stopping to smell some wildflowers on the way. it was about mid-day and i was feeling great. i wound my way up the canyon of the big sur river...  

these are journal entries unedited from the hand-written. often, these were scribbled out during the last few minutes of daylight; carefully budgeted moments  that capture the stop-and-go pace of hitching. smoother reading might be recollections of past adventures, as also exist in later pages. south island of new zealand is a treasured memory.  

A Day in the Life

4 Feb. inangahua junction. 8:30 pm. long day. i'm camped on the river just down from the junction. much relieved, i might add. the water is on for dinner-oats and honey with coffee. meagre, but adequate fare for kiwi hitchers. 

got up at 6:30- woke before the alarm. packed quickly and a bit before 7:00 i was walking down from beautiful franz josef glacier. feeling very good. nice view of the mountains just as the sun was coming over the ridge and striking the glacier and snowy peaks of mount tasman. gorgeous. 

made fast time on the hike out. took fifteen minutes to get to the sign that said 'view point-1 hr.' booked down the road. got a good snap of the valley on the way out. reached the road in no time; six km. went very quickly and i was nearly to town by 8:00. a group of hostelers, many of whom i'd seen on the glacier yesterday, were inside waiting in the front of the store for the bus to queenstown. 

went in for a coffee. bought my ticket and a couple post cards and sat down to wait for the bus north; due in at nine. wrote tracey baby and saved the other card for joe or maybe d&k. the bus arrived shortly and i was off to greymouth ( again ). 

got some great views of the mountains- tasman and cook- majestic as could be. they were in the clouds on the way down so it was quite a treat. good reflections in lake manapouriki...the ride zoomed right by and soon we arrived in hokatiki to switch buses and have a 30 minute layover. no worries, though; i mailed the card had a look at the hotel across the street and browsed quickly for books. nothing interesting, especially for the price. 

water's hot. time out. 

off for greymouth at 1:00. after a quick stop or two on the outskirts, we pulled into the station. got my pack, looked at the map and off i went. stopped at cobb's tavern and got a schedule for the delta bus run for tomorrow. quite helpful. walked out to the highway to reefton and took my usual stance by the side of the road. aahh, traffic. a nice change.

presently, a little old lady in a yellow car stopped. she was only going to the nelson creek turnoff, but that was fine with me. she  was quite friendly; told me about the gold and coal mining in the area. we arrived at the road shortly.

" thanks."

was stuck there for two hours; looking at a lumber mill but not getting frustrated. the weather was fine and hot; almost uncomfortable in my jeans. got tired of the place. checked the map and found the town of ahaura not far up the road from ngahere. i'll walk. got on the pack & only took a few steps when a bloke in a toyota flat bed picked me up. 

typical kiwi. jolly red face. thick accent-very thick. nice guy. took me 10 miles down the road to ahaura. pointed out a campground in case i got stuck.

"thanks."

was only there briefly.. was thinking there was a nice spot to camp by the creek when another car stopped. local guy. hardly remember his face even now. took me up the road to ikamatua, a little nothing town.. we chatted about deer farms and such on the way.. he said there was a river i could camp at not far up the road.

"thanks."

walked past the last house. should i stop & stand? nah, kept packing. in about a minute, a new looking car with three blokes stopped. alright. 

oh, you should see the full moon that just rose over the hill... spectacular! sky is all purple. how wonderful. 

-threw my pack in the trunk & got in. nice car. john in the back seat next to me; mark in the front passenger seat-somewhat polynesian looking , and denver, the driver. nice blokes, the lot. very chatty, interested in oregon. helpful with information on deer farms, etc. talked about pine plantations, also. some 20-foot pines were only 7 years old, they reckon. amazing. he has a diamond, club, heart and spade tattooed on the fingers of his right hand. tattoos seem popular over here.

they were going to reefton. alright. they drove quickly, so we got there fast. dropped mark off in town, and then took me up to a motor camp in case i needed it, then showed me where the bus stopped. very helpful. took me just out of town and dropped me. 

"have a safe trip."

"thanks."

was there almost an hour, i reckon. was going to give it till the sun went over the hill, then was going to go down to the river & camp. just then another car stopped. yeah. 

"going to inangahua?"

"yeah-i can drop you there."

alright. off we sped. he was going to westport from christchurch where he'd been for a couple of days to sell his bike. nice guy. a quick ride; he drove fast. 

so, here i am on the riverbank in a nice grassy spot beside a small paddock. feel very good. dinner was almost tasty with the added honey tonight. the sand flys are out and i just used the rest of my repellent, but it's not doing much good. beautiful moon. 

well the bus gets here at 8:30 am. so i did good today. saved nine bucks on the fare to picton and found a nice camp, too. tomorrow: picton-wellington and north. righty-o. more later. out. 

it's 2009 on the computer. in the journal, it's 2 Feb. 1985 ...it was a decent ride; St. Arnoud was nice, Nelson Lakes N.P. would have been a nice walk, but for the rain. picked up a german chap just out of town and an aussie from melbourne around the corner. full car. we only chatted a bit then they both fell asleep. the country got very mountainous and nice. the buller gorge was nice. narrow winding road and one-lane bridges. let the aussie out at murchison where he was meeting a mate. it started to rain harder. i considered my luck. off we went.  soon enough we came to inangahua junction where he was heading off for westport. it was raining lightly. hmm...to continue to the coast or get out here? i got out. no worries. positive mental outlook. the driver-never caught his name- said there would be a bus  through from picton if i couldn't catch a ride. said it left picton at 3:00. i thanked him for the ride and the tip and got out. off he went. 

the last entry is dated 12.22.04

the entry before that is dated 11.28.99

don't leave yourself standing in the rain that long. 

my buddha sits in repose

in the herb garden

bad thoughts i pull out like weeds

hello i'm michael. let's get blogging. it will be lots of music, poetry and a bit of editorializing as well about life, politics (egad! ) and whatever pops into my ancient yet fertile brain. writing for me has always been cathartic, therapeutic and relaxing. a few quiet moments to clear the cobwebs and allow the ink to hit the page. posting to the web is a new tack for me; usually it's an old notebook which is fairly well hidden and often forgotten even by me. so, to grease the skids and keep  the old cogs turning, i'm writing for all the world to see. please do not hold it against me.