G
Guest
From Blaine to Virginia in two weeks, two arrest and a the lose of some great weed
Chaman
I am sorry I have not been able to write in awhile. I have been on an amazing journey since the end of March and I have decided to write some of it down. Things are sort of settling down now.
In earlier post here and there I mentioned that I had a crazy relationship with my lady, trouble with my kids, the law and a divorce. Things are getting better now!
My fiancé and I left Washington State (it was snowing) March 27th to start a new life somewhere else. I had two contracts in my pocket. One contract for the place in New Orleans, and the other for Hampton Virginia. The job in New Orleans paid $65 per hour and the one in Hampton paid $45. So naturally I was heading for New Orleans and was going to find a way out of the contract in Virginia. I had been staying off of the drugs for awhile, so I took a piss test without a worry in the world.
My license was suspended in Washington State, so driving out with a trailer attached to my rig (in a snow storm) was a little bet stressed out. We drove all the way from the top of the state, right on the Canadian Border, South on Interstate 5. Before we left the state we wanted to stop off and say goodbye to a few family members in the state, because we didn’t know when we would see them again. We drove about 150 miles south, and visited her son, my son etc. While I was at my ex-wife’s house visiting my son, I bought a quarter ounce of bud from a kid that was visiting my son. I had already taken my pre-employment drug screening, so I felt it was okay to get high. I started to get high as soon as I could. I would hit the bud a couple times in bathrooms, at rest areas, and so on. On top of that, my wife has a prescription drug called Clonazepam that really knocks me on my ass. My fiance would say after I took half of one that I had slurring speech and she could tell. I was taking one of those every couple hours or so. So lets say that I as starting off getting pretty high on this 3000 mile plus road trip.
Once we got out of Washington on Interstate 5 and into Oregon, the climate was starting to change. It was getting warmer and sunnier. It was starting to get fun. I love to see the climate change when I am driving, it shows that you are making progress. We passed Portland, and then get into Salem. My fiancé told me that she wanted to call it a day and stay the night in Salem. I argued that we had only travelled 330 miles, and that if we tried to get to New Orleans only putting in 330 miles a day it would take us 10 days. She told me that she was really stressed out, it was not just a driving day, but a packing day and saying goodbye to family day. I knew that when she started to act like this there was no winning. She wanted to get Married in Las Vegas on the way, and I had just finalized my divorce from my first wife about a month ago. I was feeling all kinds of strange feelings (code for fear) about getting married again and the fact that my fiancé didn’t approve of my counter culture attitude. She has been after me to quit smoking pot, quit abusing prescription drugs, quit growing pot, quit reading IC Mag, you name it. She wanted me to be the guy I was before I started the divorce process with my first wife. Ward Cleaver is the term we used to describe who I should become. I had been getting in trouble with the law in Washington State including a couple DUI’s, an assault charge, a marijuana procession charge etc. I was starting to get a mountain of charges against me in the state, and we felt the best thing to do was run away from the state and start over. All I had were misdemeanor charges, so we felt that there is no way the law would cross state lines to mess with a small potato like me.
We pulled off of the freeway in Salem Oregon. I went in and booked us a room at the Best Western and mentioned that we were on our honeymoon. I unloaded my fiancés suitcase and told her I was going to try to get some gas and try to park my truck and trailer. I would be back in a half hour or so.
I went into my truck, drove across the street to get gas, some beer, and I went from there to South Interstate 5, towards California. I had been reading that Arcata California was like the pot capital of the USA, and I wanted to score some good bud for my new location in the south. From what I had been reading, and somewhat know from personal experience, in the South weed is available, but not as available as Northern California. I started pouring down Heniken beer, taking those Clonazapan pills, and smoking that pot that I got from my son’s friend. Before I knew it, I was fucked up. I drove as far as I could into California and spent the night in Cresent City California. Along the way my cell phone was going crazy with my fiancé trying to call me and figure out what had happened to me. I eventually answered and told her that I was on my own now, I could not marry someone that was so different than me, and I could not take the constant pressure of her trying to change me. She has family in Oregon and they were calling me too. They were threatening me with violence and so on. I just told them to bring it on, I am not afraid of any man. Just flesh and bones to me, it all breaks and bleeds.
I woke up in Cresent City and started looking for Pot right away in all the obvious spots. A coffee shop turned out to be the ticket. A nice fellow sold me his stash, some okay stuff at a reasonable price, about another quarter ounce or so, but of course I still needed more. His advice to me was to go to Arcata. It would be easy for a stranger in town to get some weed. Go to the plaza he told me, whatever the fuck that is.
I checked out of my hotel in Cresent City California and headed South in highway 101, the beach highway. I made it to Arcata and to another coffee shop. The coffee shop was cool and I met another nice fellow there. He told me to go to the plaza also, so I was beginning to believe this was the place to go.
I drove around Arcata, and asked around, and finally found the plaza. Kind of business square kind of place with hip as well as un-hip looking places. I walked around the place, and seen a Mexican kid that was looking like he was looking for someone that was looking for something. How does one describe that look any better than that? I asked him if he knew where I could score some good bud. Of course he knew, and he introduced me to this very pretty young lady, just old enough to go into the nearby tavern. We bargained a little, I bought her a beer, and walked out of there with 2 ounces in a freezer bag of some weed she called Train Wreck. What was I to know, I have never seen Train Wreck before, and it was some awesome smelling pot. A tiny bit skunky, but also something else I never put my finger on. I am a lover of fine wine and fine weed, and I do know the better stuff from the not, but I never smell chocolate or saddles and anything like that. I am not one to describe a smell too well. It seemed like some of the best pot I have ever had and the two ounces only cost me $400. I was happy and so I was ready to head out on my trip.
I got gas and a six pack of Heniken at a local gas station and headed west, back to Interstate 5 in Redding California. The highway I was on headed up into the most beautiful green mountains. As the city of Arcata disappeared in my rear view mirror I reached for my pipe in the usual spot to fire up some of that awesome smelling weed, but I couldn’t find it. Where was that damn thing. I was swerving in and out of traffic looking all over my truck cab for my pipe to no avail. It was gone. I was not going to go back to Arcata to look for a pipe, so I just figured I would light up a bud with my lighter and just burn off the trichomes to get high. Hell, I have two ounces of the stuff, why not waste a little of it.
I pulled grabbed the big bag and took a nice hard sniff. Awesome, this is going to be a great trip. I pulled out a nice bud and lit it with my lighting and then blew it out. I sniffed it until it quit smoking and then lit it again. I felt this great high almost immediately but it did creep a little too. The scenery got nicer and nicer as the creep took effect. California is such a beautiful place I thought. I need to settle down here some day.
I drove for hours through some of the nicest country the west coast had to offer. I was pretty high and that made it better. I was completely alone, leaving my family in Washington state and my ex-fiance in Salem Oregon. Her family from Bend Oregon had come and got her and brought her to Bend. They were calling me and telling me to that I needed to get the rest of her personal belongings to her as soon as possible or there would be a hunting party out to get me and teach me a lesson. I laughed at their threats and figured I would get her stuff back to her, but on my time. I had to get to New Orleans and did not have time to go unloading the trailer and sorting out the things that were hers from mine.
Before you all start calling me asshole, you need to remember that this women and I have a history together. We have had horrific fights. She has taken huge amounts of cash of mine that was laying around my house and took it gambling (more than one time). I had a crop of bud growing in my garage that was about 10lbs and just about to grow crystals that she cut down and put in the garbage disposal, this is a girl that had access to my bank accounts and removed large sums of money. This is a girl that got me fired from Boeing for being a drug user.
Chaman
I am sorry I have not been able to write in awhile. I have been on an amazing journey since the end of March and I have decided to write some of it down. Things are sort of settling down now.
In earlier post here and there I mentioned that I had a crazy relationship with my lady, trouble with my kids, the law and a divorce. Things are getting better now!
My fiancé and I left Washington State (it was snowing) March 27th to start a new life somewhere else. I had two contracts in my pocket. One contract for the place in New Orleans, and the other for Hampton Virginia. The job in New Orleans paid $65 per hour and the one in Hampton paid $45. So naturally I was heading for New Orleans and was going to find a way out of the contract in Virginia. I had been staying off of the drugs for awhile, so I took a piss test without a worry in the world.
My license was suspended in Washington State, so driving out with a trailer attached to my rig (in a snow storm) was a little bet stressed out. We drove all the way from the top of the state, right on the Canadian Border, South on Interstate 5. Before we left the state we wanted to stop off and say goodbye to a few family members in the state, because we didn’t know when we would see them again. We drove about 150 miles south, and visited her son, my son etc. While I was at my ex-wife’s house visiting my son, I bought a quarter ounce of bud from a kid that was visiting my son. I had already taken my pre-employment drug screening, so I felt it was okay to get high. I started to get high as soon as I could. I would hit the bud a couple times in bathrooms, at rest areas, and so on. On top of that, my wife has a prescription drug called Clonazepam that really knocks me on my ass. My fiance would say after I took half of one that I had slurring speech and she could tell. I was taking one of those every couple hours or so. So lets say that I as starting off getting pretty high on this 3000 mile plus road trip.
Once we got out of Washington on Interstate 5 and into Oregon, the climate was starting to change. It was getting warmer and sunnier. It was starting to get fun. I love to see the climate change when I am driving, it shows that you are making progress. We passed Portland, and then get into Salem. My fiancé told me that she wanted to call it a day and stay the night in Salem. I argued that we had only travelled 330 miles, and that if we tried to get to New Orleans only putting in 330 miles a day it would take us 10 days. She told me that she was really stressed out, it was not just a driving day, but a packing day and saying goodbye to family day. I knew that when she started to act like this there was no winning. She wanted to get Married in Las Vegas on the way, and I had just finalized my divorce from my first wife about a month ago. I was feeling all kinds of strange feelings (code for fear) about getting married again and the fact that my fiancé didn’t approve of my counter culture attitude. She has been after me to quit smoking pot, quit abusing prescription drugs, quit growing pot, quit reading IC Mag, you name it. She wanted me to be the guy I was before I started the divorce process with my first wife. Ward Cleaver is the term we used to describe who I should become. I had been getting in trouble with the law in Washington State including a couple DUI’s, an assault charge, a marijuana procession charge etc. I was starting to get a mountain of charges against me in the state, and we felt the best thing to do was run away from the state and start over. All I had were misdemeanor charges, so we felt that there is no way the law would cross state lines to mess with a small potato like me.
We pulled off of the freeway in Salem Oregon. I went in and booked us a room at the Best Western and mentioned that we were on our honeymoon. I unloaded my fiancés suitcase and told her I was going to try to get some gas and try to park my truck and trailer. I would be back in a half hour or so.
I went into my truck, drove across the street to get gas, some beer, and I went from there to South Interstate 5, towards California. I had been reading that Arcata California was like the pot capital of the USA, and I wanted to score some good bud for my new location in the south. From what I had been reading, and somewhat know from personal experience, in the South weed is available, but not as available as Northern California. I started pouring down Heniken beer, taking those Clonazapan pills, and smoking that pot that I got from my son’s friend. Before I knew it, I was fucked up. I drove as far as I could into California and spent the night in Cresent City California. Along the way my cell phone was going crazy with my fiancé trying to call me and figure out what had happened to me. I eventually answered and told her that I was on my own now, I could not marry someone that was so different than me, and I could not take the constant pressure of her trying to change me. She has family in Oregon and they were calling me too. They were threatening me with violence and so on. I just told them to bring it on, I am not afraid of any man. Just flesh and bones to me, it all breaks and bleeds.
I woke up in Cresent City and started looking for Pot right away in all the obvious spots. A coffee shop turned out to be the ticket. A nice fellow sold me his stash, some okay stuff at a reasonable price, about another quarter ounce or so, but of course I still needed more. His advice to me was to go to Arcata. It would be easy for a stranger in town to get some weed. Go to the plaza he told me, whatever the fuck that is.
I checked out of my hotel in Cresent City California and headed South in highway 101, the beach highway. I made it to Arcata and to another coffee shop. The coffee shop was cool and I met another nice fellow there. He told me to go to the plaza also, so I was beginning to believe this was the place to go.
I drove around Arcata, and asked around, and finally found the plaza. Kind of business square kind of place with hip as well as un-hip looking places. I walked around the place, and seen a Mexican kid that was looking like he was looking for someone that was looking for something. How does one describe that look any better than that? I asked him if he knew where I could score some good bud. Of course he knew, and he introduced me to this very pretty young lady, just old enough to go into the nearby tavern. We bargained a little, I bought her a beer, and walked out of there with 2 ounces in a freezer bag of some weed she called Train Wreck. What was I to know, I have never seen Train Wreck before, and it was some awesome smelling pot. A tiny bit skunky, but also something else I never put my finger on. I am a lover of fine wine and fine weed, and I do know the better stuff from the not, but I never smell chocolate or saddles and anything like that. I am not one to describe a smell too well. It seemed like some of the best pot I have ever had and the two ounces only cost me $400. I was happy and so I was ready to head out on my trip.
I got gas and a six pack of Heniken at a local gas station and headed west, back to Interstate 5 in Redding California. The highway I was on headed up into the most beautiful green mountains. As the city of Arcata disappeared in my rear view mirror I reached for my pipe in the usual spot to fire up some of that awesome smelling weed, but I couldn’t find it. Where was that damn thing. I was swerving in and out of traffic looking all over my truck cab for my pipe to no avail. It was gone. I was not going to go back to Arcata to look for a pipe, so I just figured I would light up a bud with my lighter and just burn off the trichomes to get high. Hell, I have two ounces of the stuff, why not waste a little of it.
I pulled grabbed the big bag and took a nice hard sniff. Awesome, this is going to be a great trip. I pulled out a nice bud and lit it with my lighting and then blew it out. I sniffed it until it quit smoking and then lit it again. I felt this great high almost immediately but it did creep a little too. The scenery got nicer and nicer as the creep took effect. California is such a beautiful place I thought. I need to settle down here some day.
I drove for hours through some of the nicest country the west coast had to offer. I was pretty high and that made it better. I was completely alone, leaving my family in Washington state and my ex-fiance in Salem Oregon. Her family from Bend Oregon had come and got her and brought her to Bend. They were calling me and telling me to that I needed to get the rest of her personal belongings to her as soon as possible or there would be a hunting party out to get me and teach me a lesson. I laughed at their threats and figured I would get her stuff back to her, but on my time. I had to get to New Orleans and did not have time to go unloading the trailer and sorting out the things that were hers from mine.
Before you all start calling me asshole, you need to remember that this women and I have a history together. We have had horrific fights. She has taken huge amounts of cash of mine that was laying around my house and took it gambling (more than one time). I had a crop of bud growing in my garage that was about 10lbs and just about to grow crystals that she cut down and put in the garbage disposal, this is a girl that had access to my bank accounts and removed large sums of money. This is a girl that got me fired from Boeing for being a drug user.
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