ON THE ROAD çddf,faa,afa,aaf,faf,ffa,aff ¢ ON THE ROAD ² ============= ³ Written by d-Orb/tPHa ¹ Well, this thing happened some four years ago. I was taking a summer course in Vancouver, Canada. The aim was learning English. I didn't give a fuck about that, as I went there because I wanted to see how America was like, and, personally, I don't like the States much, I prefer Canada. In Vancouver, I met quite a lot of people, from Hispanic drugdealers, to whores, and some normal people. It was quite a nice month. My family was good: I could do whatever I felt, and they were nice. I had some good times with them, that's what I mean. I also met the neighbours. They were three, Ryan, Ron and Sue. Sue and Ron lived together, and Ryan was Sue's brother. He was 18, and was studying in UBC (University of British Columbia). In fact, he was going to start, but he was living there with his sister. We lived next door each other, and we got to know each other. These things happen: you talk, and you make friends. After all, we've got a mouth to talk. Anyway, the thing is that he told me about the Beat Generation, Jack Kerouac, Dean Moriartry and all the lot. I enjoy travelling quite a lot, and I was willing to discover America, or Europe or Hell if given the ¶opportunity to do so. I specially like wilderness. And the Rockies were just a stone's throw from Vancouver. So, finally, we decided to take a hitch towards them. Money was low, but spirits were high. I didn't feel like making it at first. However, I became enthusiastic by the second day. We knew of a hostel, owned by the University in the ass of the world. It was famous for being a partying place. We were going to go there for a couple of days. Of course, no one should know anything about this. Rules are strict. In fact, I was going with my host family to the US for a while. Cool. And finally, the great day arrived. My backpack had a sleeping bag, some clothes, a towel, some beers, and my walkman. I also had a torch. In my bermudas I had my pocket knife ready. I'm sortta paranoid, but it doesn't harm anyone to look a bit ahead. After all, I was only 15, and though my buddy was 18, I wouldn't trust the first guy I would meet on the road. First thing we did, we took a walk towards one of the roads leading East. It was chilling, even though it was July. We made it there at nine o'clock in the morning. After trying to get a lift for about half an hour, we got it. A woman stopped, and we ran towards her car. My heart was pumping wildly. I was excited like hell. We jumped in, saying 'morning, miss. She was in her late twenties, or perhaps in her early ¶thirties. First thing she asked was where we had planned to go. When told about the hut, she smiled: she wasn't from Vancouver, but from the Toronto area, and she had already "experienced" that kind of hostels before. She told us that it was a great idea: you met people, you had fun, and, it was a good experience. I had some other view: I was going to be raped by a wild, hairy man, that would leave my ass bleeding, and as a result of the rape, I would be shitting in white for a fortnight. She then asked about our age. For all purposes, I was 17. "Hey, you're young to go hitching around!"-she said. If she knew half the story... I told myself. We kept on talking about everything. She was quite shocked to know I was spaniard, and she was asking things about Europe, and things like that. It was a nice ride, at least she must have picked us up because she was bored to death. We finally came to some "crossroad", were we should head towards somewhere different. We said hello, and thanks, and back outside. A nice walk was greeting us. After a couple of hours, we got where we were going to take our second ride. Cars going by were much scarcer than in our previous "car stop". Finally, a van stopped, and we jumped on the back. It was brilliant: it was going towards the hostels nearest town. By nearest, I mean around 10-15 kms. away from it. ¶The road evolved us with huge trees, that grew next to it. It was dark, and the wind blew. The weater was sunny, and thousands of mosquitos had a meeting on that van. We joked about the possibility of a corpse attracting the mosquitos... It was about one when our driver stopped at a restaurant. -HEY! come down for some food!-he said. We jumped down, and entered the restaurant. We took a weird soup and some sort of sausage roll with fries. The man treated us to wine, and I was quite happy with it. Of course, it wasn't some Bordeaux or Rioja, but it was sippable. Ryan was disgusted: he hated wine. After talking for a while, we joined the road again. Ryan decided to take a nap, but I was too excited about everything, that, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to sleep. The wind smelling so fresh, the endless trees..., and, above all, the road, endless. Few cars were passing by. Not on a weekday. Everything seemed to be calm, except for us. By the end of the afternoon, around half six, we got to the village. I can't remember the name right now, but I remember that it was something like a copy of the typical alpine town: really steep houses, and that sort of stuff. A good tourist trap. We said cheerio to the mate, and started to look for information. The last bus had already departed, and we didn't feel like taking a hike that night. We went to a square, and ¶after taking a nice meal consisting of sandwiches, beer and whiskey, we got ready for the night. I made the first turn, 3 hours awake. It was cold. The streets were empty. No one was to be seen. It was impossible to remain quiet, so I got up, and took a walk. We were the only human beings on the village. It was being time for my nap. I was really excited. The booze effects were starting to depart, and I was feeling cold around me. So woke Ryan up. He grumbled, and tried to get on sleeping, but finally made an effort, and got up at last. I told him there was nothing around, that we were the only living entities in many kilometers around. He nodded, and said something like "the other living creatures have money to sleep in hotels". And it was true. I pushed myself into the sleeping bag, and got ready for a nap. As soon as the bag started heating me, a warm glow made me sleep. When I woke up, it was around six o'clock, and the sun was shining on the East. We packed, and went to look for the goddamm bus. The bus was going to depart at ten. It was nine, so we took breakfast again. At the end, we took the bus, and jumped in. Not many people inside. After a good ride, we say a sign indicating the hut. We told the driver to stop, and got off. We then realized that the sign said: "UBC Hostel. 4Kms." Shit!! So we kept on walking. It felt nice, walking. It was around ¶half-ten, and the sun was shining. There was snow on the mountains, and a fresh breeze was blowing. Unfortunately, the road was going uphill all the time, so I was panting, and Ryan said that I was going to explode. We finally came to other sign, that indicated a path that, suppossedely, would lead us to the hut. This was even steeper, but shorter.Around quarter to eleven, we saw the loggers hut. We went in. There was a guy there. We told him to get us room and all that. There weren't many people around, and we got one finally. As everybody was sleeping, and hadn't got up to clear the mess, we took some shit that was on the ping-pong table, and we played for a while. Some time later, people started to come into the kitchen, with eyebags wide as hell. Plenty of women. Good, this is a girl- only institution, we said. Plenty of fun tonight, I guess. Everybody was half asleep, and had problems when articulating any coherent sentence. After breakfast (our third), everyone seemed to be dead. So, I made it to my bed, and jumped into my sleeping bag. I guess I wasn't the only one. When I woke up, it was six, more or less. Everybody was in bed. So I went for a walk on my own. There were some people in the living, having a chat. I chatted for a while with them. They were talking about the party. It was something brutal: no music, ¶just booze, sex and food. How romantic... As I was beginning to become phlebotomized (huh??), I step outside, and went for a trek. After one hour, I was back. There were more people in the living. I went to check Ryan up: he was sleeping. I was thirsty, so I took my beers to the living room. I shared some, and soon afterwards, I was engaged in a conversation on the fine art of boozing. The average age in that pit was of 19. And, finally, Ryan came, looking as if after a sleepless night in hell. He sat down, and took a beer. It was cool. With time a couple of cars arrived, carrying more people, and more boozing. Plenty. I think I've never seen so much together. I was amazed. Dinner was cool, I cooked my world famous Spanish Omelette, and we had a competition with some girls to see who was the most disgusting guy at the table. Ryan was starting to wake up, and woke finally up with the competition, putting his feet on the table. They were BLACK. And putrid. It was disgusting, so he won the competition. And the party started. Plenty of booze and all. I can't remember much of what happened. I know that I was lying in the jacuzzy, with someone taking pictures of me (I know of this because I saw the pictures). I also remember one of my friends puking inside his sleeping bag, but nothing else. ¶Dawn came, and we were still partying. I woke up at two, with a headache, in the middle of the living. A girl was sleeping over me. I tried to move, but, exhausted by the effort, I let go, and sunk in my universe. I was woken up by the girl, Tracy, who told me that I had been seriously drunk, and many other things, that I didn't believe. I stood up, and suddenly, made my way to the toilet, where I puked my guts out. It was liquid. It smelt whiskey, beer and wine altogether. Disgusting. It was all black, and rotten. When I came back to Tracy, I was feeling much better. After taking an Alka Seltzer, my headache died. By the time I was again aware of what was happening around, everybody was busy, cleaning up all the shit. I learned that someone had pulled the fire alarm, and that the firemen had come. Cool, I wasn't in... After all the cleaning, we made ourselves something to eat. We had some party that night, but not much, we were very tired. It was mainly a talk-party, where you are talking all the time. Next morning we were ready to flee back to Vancouver. We took a hitch from Tracy and Jane. It was a cool thing to do: no need to walk around, or to wait. At midday, we were back home. Tracy and Jane came to my house for a meal, and after all that, they went home. That night I should have slept around ¶eight million hours. I don't know how much I slept, but it was a lot. A real good lot. I woke up, feeling disoriented, and finding a note on my bedside table: "Tomorrow, Seattle. Get ready, or I'll come to kick you ass!!! Signed: Ryan" And we made it to Seattle, more relaxed this time, taking the boat. It was much calmer. This is the end of my story. It happened some time ago, but it meant a lot to me. I think this events made me think a lot about life, and people. It was a experience that, after having had it, made me think "Jesus, I'm nuts!", but that made me lern a lot about everything. In fact, I'm proud of it. I know that it was a bit like a trip to the unknown, but it came up good. I don't know if today I would make it again.