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.