The 3 Favors

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I jumped out of the truck, thanking the local with the friendly hills accent for the ride to Brascomb. Grabbing my stuff from the back I wave goodbye as he prepares to pull away. Before he hits the road he glances at me strangely then says, "3 favors," his 3 longest fingers waving at me, "you must do 3 favors." I was weird out for a moment, but the guy sitting behind me with his dog pronounced amicably, "3 random acts of kindness!". Then it made sense.

I sat outside the Brascomb gas station and market for a while listening to the ramblings of the three drinkers sitting on the patio and eventually struck up conversation with the young fellow, Hans, and his dog, Cosmos who was a curious puppy. He eventually invited me to check out a redwood stand next to a stream nearby so we took Cosmos over who splashed around madly as we just relaxed and enjoyed the mountain air and blue sky. Hans was complaining that he had to return to his RV and clean up, as it was a 'mess'. He did say he cleaned his couch recently if I need a place to stay the night and as always I quickly grabbed the opportunity. I also pitched in that I enjoy cleaning and would be glad to order the place with him, though he seemed kind of afraid by this task himself, "stuff's everywhere"...

We got to his RV, which was in a trailer park that basically comprised the whole population of Brascomb which is a failed lumber town. Entering the RV, I knew I had some work to do. Hans smoked a lot, everytime any event happened he had to have a cigarette, though he was respectful about it and did it aside. Unfortunately me wanting to make him clean was a time when he would smoke slowly and consider what the was to do. I got him to kill the cigarette and I began with a pair of work gloves pulling out the pile of rubble in his sinks: emergency gas coins, mayo and dijon, crusty crusted crust balls, and endless amounts of dirt. Dog hair kept the atmosphere sufficiently damp and I knew he needed a lot more motivation if he ever planned to make this reasonably clean. Immaculate was out of the question. For the next hour I searched his kitchen ridding him of the obvious, seperating piles of misc. things, art supplies, and dvds tapes or music. A little before sunset we had got rid of the botulism infesting his storage boxes, found rotten spinach, and cosmos was still bouncing around like an angry baboon. The couch seemed usable if you don't mind dog hair, which I pretended wasn't there, and we called it a night having made the kitchen area a place one could walk through without compulsive gagging. 1 Favor done.

I slept well, as it's a quiet little village, though I didn't wake up to any funny sounds that Hans often said plagued the trailer park("My wife is pregnant, and she's on drugs!"). I took Cosmos for a walk down to the stream which was an ephemeral blue that morning, and on the way back we stopped at a playground, where I spun Cosmos and myself on the merry-go-round to a point that either made Cosmos really dizzy or really happy; getting off the disc, he jumped up plopped his arms as high as he could almost reaching my shoulders and practically hugged me. It was warm, sweet, and a great way to start a morning; a nice dog hug. Or he was just trying to keep his balance.

I left within an hour and was walking towards the coast; the weather had been all sun since May Day and was relentless. A little hot carrying the bag but nothing a redwood couldn't solve. With the help of a couple from Seattle (one who had lived on Orcas Island in fact), I made it to the coast, to HWY 1. Reaching the next town Westport, I check in at the gas station/usual market. Before walking in, I noticed two emaciated dirty looking folk down the road a ways holding a sign in the other direction. I giggled at how many of me there were around.

Entering the gas station I was quickly astounded by the fact that this place had some cool lunches being served for the middle of no where, the busy girl behind the counter, was baking pizzas, fresh ones, and making paninis which seemed odd for a place that sold Hoho's and Chocolate milk normally. My stomach wasn't pushy, so I just got some limeade, and 3 bananas. Walking back out into the sun, I mozied towards the two on the road. They were tan, and looked well fitted for each other. I handed them both bananas, and read their sign "HUNGRY need rides". Corey and Misty were their names, really open couple who had just hitched from Austin, Texas and were about 60 miles from their destination Arcata. I wish them all the best after asking the usual impromptu questions, and was happy those bananas didn't get squashed in my full rucksack. 2 down.

I stuck my thumb out again and next thing you know I was riding with Dan, a local headed to Cleone; a small town before Fort Bragg, a larger one I was familiar with. I jumped out in Cleone, and walked down the hill to a nicer spot reaching the entrance to a State Park touting a grey whale skull. I walked in and before I could even examine the monstrosity on my right, the park ranger waved me down asking if I was "bike and hike spot?". I didn't know what she meant but I assumed she was asking for money so I just kept looking at the skull, which she later told me was an immature whale that washed up, then buried under the beach for 3 years, and dug up for its current purpose. I finally made contact with the ranger and she informed me that the usual camping price here is $25. Which is a lot. Luckily I didn't come by car so I got it for $3. Which is nothing.

I had a semi-private spot right next to an elderly couple who were the campground hosts, Marion and Bones, and who also provided me with instructions on where to get good butchered meat in Fort Bragg, a nice 3 mile hike away. The hike wasn't just nice actually. It was shockingly beautiful, with a high tide raging the rocks, and the cleansing sound of waves inhaling and exhaling. Furthermore, I wasn't carrying my rucksack and that made for my a happy back, which is now aching. I saw a woman with her dog sort of meandering a small patch of rocks picking up several and keeping them. I asked her some questions, mainly about food and Fort Bragg, and she reccomended "Piachi's" which has "an amazing Roma pizza topped with FRESH mozzarella". She also added that a local beer there call Lagunita's was delicious and I snickered realizing I was 21, though had no thrist for alcohol. She also explained to me I was at glass beach, once a place where locals dumped their trash, and now a treasure spot for iodized glass fragments the sea had left. I found little bowl shaped green chunk probably once aiding some fellow to drive badly when it was a bottle.

I reached Fort Bragg which outskirts were unpleasantly dotted with subdivisions and lumberyards. Before I had even got into town, I crossed the main thoroughfare (HWY 1 again) in order to reach a quieter destination, though was quickly intersected by two dirty young fellows, who asked if I had any money. I said I usually do, but was not really willing to give up my smallest bill: a 20. So I invited them to help me find Piacchi's which was on the opposite side of town. They ran into an old buddy of theirs, Blackbird, on the way: a nice fellow from Atlanta who told me about a sweet urban cooperative there, and the trees inside it that have unofficially been climbed more than any other trees in the country. He was also hungry.

My gang soon found Piacchi's and I told them to wait on the tables outside while I figured a feast inside. Walking inside to the little crowded bar/pizzeria I noticed it was late afternoon but the slate was full of men just drinking and being warm. I also noticed a serious amount of beer I've never heard of. I ordered my Roma and got some bigger pizza for the other guys, and talked with some of the funny guys seated along the bar who were bothering the batenderesses(does someone have a better word for that?). They tickled me into considering a beer, but knowing it was no good for a small guy like me, I skipped, though one of them was brewed across the street sounded tempting: Old Rasputin, a stout one alright.

I went outside to check on the guys but I didn't last very long with Old Rasputin in my head, and went back inside and got what's considering a small glass (12 oz.) of it. I guess I didn't realize what I was getting, but I got it. For instance, Old Rasputin isn't sold in 6 packs normally, only 4 packs. It's 9% alcohol and basiclally is like barley syrup. Really good and 3/4 of the cup I drank, was enough the I split my glass, which was lucky. My beer finished(ish), a smile on my face, I got our pizzas and went back out to see the joyful looks of the fellows I was accompanied by. Our conversations weren't very enriching I admit but I felt they were a good bunch on a wrong road, and some good food helps you sight these things better. We split ways, though not before some really incredibly rude thugs tried to assault us because one of the fellows had made an incomprehensible comment about their dog earlier on. It made me wish I knew some self-defense in the least, which I'll look into now, but the more irritating part about it was how I pitied these fellows who could not open themselves up to communicate but instead to curse, shout, and use their bodies as a form of fear. We slipped away as some girl who'd obviously knew them well enough began shouting at them from her car, and the sad sad men began a cursing match in the middle of the intersection with her. Funny world.


I'm back in Mendocino where the trip started actually. Did a fantastic bicycle ride up 10-mile river today and am too sore to be doing any more traveling or work I'd say; though I will. Time for some hot springs.....

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Comments

[Debs]

are you going to visit Andrew?
you're becoming a really good writer Davey, with some editing and additional stories you might have a good couch surfing book........

[doyle]

davey's got it right this time
Yup, Piaci's is the bomb, the beer is strong, the hippies and beggars and street hoodlums here are legendary, and as you so eloquently put it, so are the hikes and the forests and the empty beaches. Hope you go to the sand-dunes, hot springs, and horseback riding on the beach next time you come through.