A veil of enchantment still hangs over these early days of miracle and wonder; a

scorching summer coast to coaster across the southern states of the United and on a
collision course with the inevitable turn of a century. Freedom is in the air, wafting
through your hair with the promise of good fortune; hinting numerous possibilities with
every mile you cover.
Your army buddy and your very own self, a couple of shirtless, fearless vagabonds in
their early twenties, are easy-riding the hapless, breathless Chevy across the great state of
Ariona, covering hundreds of miles of steaming asphalt on countless byroads. !o be
perfectly honest, this "ourney ain#t half as fabulous as it may sounds, but rather lengthy,
dull and sunba$ed stretches of nada connecting a whole bunch of one-horse towns.
%nce in a good while, you#d come across a town big enough to "ustify a lonesome
&urger 'ing, or at least an (n-)-%ut "oint; the budget traveler#s best of friends. %nce in a
blue moon, you#d even splurge on a diner#s special, but more often than not, corned beef
and tur$ey sandwiches are on the menu.
And then there#re these shitty little byroads, all crac$ed and potholed. !hen again, as
lousy as they may be, these byroads do save you guys much on time and fuel e*penses,
yet come with a dire price in wear and tear. At this rate, you seem to be going through
about a tire a day, and are far from eager to pop the hood open and face whatever
catastrophe might be building up inside the belly of your old war-mule of a car.
+uc$ily enough, cheap second hand tires are easy to come by at any of the little
scrappy garages on the outs$irts of these now-you-see-them-now-you-don#t $inda towns;
towns you tend to sooner forget as leave behind in a cloud of dust. And so, in a mad dash
across hellish deserts, you also leave behind piles of burnouts; tires worn to the rim and
torn from limb; a whole lot of used tires that, much li$e the second hand car, are cheap
enough not to become a ma"or obstacle on this improvised campaign to ma$e every last
grain in the barn count.
!his one is a particularly blistering day. All windows are rolled way down. ,ay up,
under the cover of piratical headbands and !erminator sunglasses, lay cigarettes are
burning out at mouth corners while, for once, the radio is actually pic$ing something up,
even though it#s but a local, country music station.
Your buddy is at the wheel, doing about a hundred mph down a narrow two way
byroad, howling along with a particularly yee haw sorta song, while you#re slowly
drifting away on the waves of heat and dreariness. You are hardly even conscious of the
overta$ing of a gigantic truc$, in itself doing about ninety five along this open stretch of
road. -uddenly, from as far as the gates of )od, consciousness springs right bac$ into top
level of alertness, sending all of your mental resources to their prospective battle stations,
as a sudden e*plosion roc$s the very foundations of reality.
%ne of your rear tires has "ust blown up, while the Chevy happened to be fighting for
acceleration along a particular lane belonging primarily to adverse traffic, and all of that
too$ place right in the middle of overta$ing this huge truc$, now completely bloc$ing any
possible form of retreat to your designated lane.
!he hair on the bac$ of your nec$ "umps to a panic$y attention, while your buddy is
struggling with the wheel; fighting to $eep the car merely roc$ing between a hammer and
a very hard place. .eanwhile, your own mental resources, now fully manning battle
stations, are powerless to do much more than to ta$e a very slow motioned stoc$ of the
thin thread this thing called life really hangs on.
Finally, with the slamming of bra$es, the car sharply twirls bac$ to the right, seconds
away from slamming into a doen tons of roaring ferocity, which continues its straight
forward charge, while you end up thrown into a ditch on the side of the road.
For a timeless interval, reality freees and all becomes as silent as Fortune.
For your lives were "ust spared by nothing more than sheer luc$.
,hen reality shall finally $ic$ bac$ in, you will silently step out, change the tire, ta$e
your sha$en and stirred buddy#s place at the wheel, start the Chevy, than$ful there is no
apparent damage, pull out of the ditch and simply drive to live another day
+ive to see another turn of the great wheel.

/ / /
A nostalgic veil hangs over these last few days of freedom, caught in between two
calls of duty as potato 0uality controller up on the &ritish isle and a blin$ of an eye into a
brand new millennium. An idyllic summer in the &al$ans is behind you, and soon you#ll
be e*pected bac$ on the wrong side of country roads. ,hat remains is "ust enough time
for closure and recompression.
!ruth be told, this is an underlying feature in your design. !here has always been a
desire for closure, especially in regards to romantic entanglements, 1cause it "ust doesn#t
ma$e much sense that a person you once loved shall later be hated. !he least two people
who shared such a bond should do is stay friends; wor$ around mista$es that were made;
things that shouldn#t have been said.
,e#re all human, all too human, shit happens and that#s "ust the nature of things.
As a matter of fact, you#re on your way to her home right now, confident that closure
is within reach. 2nough time has passed since that one cruel remar$ slipped out of its
Freudian bas$et and san$ its teeth, and the venom ought to have been diluted enough by
now. You#ve driven down this path hundreds of times, and automatic pilot $ic$s in once
again, freeing your mind for one last admission of guilt and a plead for forgiveness, while
the car flies across a long stretch of farmland going right through the very heart of this
village. You put your faith in the healing powers of time. -heer, clear time; time which so
often washes the memory clean, rinses away the aches of the heart, leaving a pure place
to allow friendship to once again blossom.
%nly half aware of the sharp bend you "ust too$ at close to eighty $m3h, your mind
0uic$ly drifts bac$ into the drafting of a closing argument, to hopefully be given in much
more courteous circumstances this time around, and with a much better chance of
ac0uittal. A whole year has gone by since that hellish fury, and the fair lady must be
about ready to relin0uish her scorn.
+ater that dar$ and windy autumn night, you#re driving bac$ the way you came;
driving bac$ from her house; away from what was, by all appearances, a peaceful tribune.
)evertheless, the peace pipe appeared to have been only half-full at best, and forgiveness
seemed to have been given only half-heartedly. 4eep down inside, you $now you don#t
deserve much more than that, yet there#s no harm in trying. You semi-automatically shift
through the gears, in the very same way you are going through the notions. You were a
bastard and are paying the price. 2ven deeper, downer inside, you also $now that you still
are a bastard, but have at least tried to do right.
!he car cruises down that long stretch of farmland, as guilt is introduced into the
emotional coc$tail. 4etachment follows, forever guarding the fragile ego, leaving an
ominous 0uestion mar$ where certainty once stood. 4etachment, however, is a remedy
best serve cold, for it insolates body and mind from a burning heart, allowing the show to
go on, while the flames subside of their own accord.
Win some lose some, sonny, you rec$on. Thats just life.
)evertheless, detachment, li$e all remedies, can also have serious side effects.
!hus, detached, you find yourself most curious as to how come there#s a sharp bend in
the road coming at you at such high velocity, but $nowing all too well what it did to the
cat, you let curiosity slide and focus on the clearer and more present problem at hand.
+uc$ily enough, you come prepared for "ust this $ind of unluc$y eventuality by a doen
or so years of e*perience in similar situations, involving a rec$less driver, a vehicle flying
at high velocity and a hard place, coming at you at identical, if not even greater, speed.
Unfortunately, all that e*perience has to offer is a short prayer and an invitation to sit
bac$ and en"oy the ride. !he seat is, after all, the best in the house.
A split second#s "udgment sees no way of avoiding a full on collusion with whatever
lur$s ahead in the dar$, beyond the wide ditch now closing in on you at incredible speed.
(f you#d hit the bra$es too hard, the car will be thrown against one of the houses on both
sides of the road; if you#d attempt ta$ing the curve without hitting the bra$es, the car will
be thrown even harder. !he only way is to try and reduce velocity as much as precious
time shall allow, hold on tight and hope for the best.
Cool as a cucumber about to turn into tzatziki, you pump the bra$es and ta$e full
advantage of the second or so remaining before eminent collusion. You 0uic$ly come to
terms with the way things are, ta$e a long loo$ at your "ourney so far, cheer up some and
even manage a grin.
Lifes a laugh and deaths a joke after all, is the final thought going through your
mind. And this last joke sure seems to be on me.
And with that, you fly off the road, no longer aware of how fast you are going, blast
through a most unfortunate bush, soar across the ditch and slam, headlights on, into a tree
thic$ enough to bring the whole thing to an abrupt end.
For a timeless interval, reality freees and all becomes as silent as Fate.
For your life must have been spared by something other than sheer coincidence.
,hat saved your life were seatbelt and airbags, plain and simple.
%nce you#ll e"ect yourself from their grip and stumble out of the totally wrec$ed and
fuming car, with but a couple of burns to s$in surface, you#ll step out of that bush, light a
smo$e with a trembling hand, stare at the void for a while, then call in the cavalry.
(n the end, you get pic$ed up and ta$en to a safe house.
!he car is towed for scraps on the ne*t day.
-he never tal$s to you again.
/ / /
(t#s the earliest days of roaming the southern of the American continents, sliding
anticloc$wise from country to country, until you finally end up in 2cuador. (ndependence
drives you onwards, forever craving the premise of strange new worlds; as ever fearful of
being reined in by anyone or anything.
!ogether with your travel companion, you#ve been riding this piece-of-shit 5eep from
hell for nearly half a year by now; across thousands of $ilometers of the 6an-American
7ighway; through doens of scabby little garages and countless repairs, and enough,
as he himself has put it, is more than enough. 7e wants out, and you can#t blame him.
!hen again, there#s this stubbornness in the core of your being that refuses to admit
defeat, and manages to convince the rest of you that you#re capable of fi*ing this noble
savage of a 5eep once and for all. For that reason, you#ve succumbed to peddling only his
part of the 5eep to other clueless travelers upon arrival in 8uito, yet have chosen to hold
on to your share of the property.
)evertheless, you#ll cross that bridge when you get to it. 9ight now, you prefer to turn
your attention to this fabulous bridge you#re actually crossing at the present moment; a
stone bridge soaring over a seemingly bottomless ravine, which must be a thrilling
platform for bungee "umping if there ever was one.
!his so-called 6an-American 7ighway is nothing but patches of asphalt scattered
between plentiful potholes and crac$s as deep as this here ravine, but it at least gets you
places. !his last stretch from %tovalo; this charming little te*tile mar$et town up north,
has been nothing short of breathta$ingly beautiful, with water gracefully cascading down
dramatic cliffs, covered in an evergreen forest that remains largely untouched.
%nce past the bridge, you begin to climb up a curvy road, going along a steep
mountainside and following a bunch of tired loo$ing camions. !hese frea$ishly
multicolored monstrosities must have seen more layers of paint than .ichel 5ac$son, and
are so overladen that a snail wouldn#t hitch a ride with any of them.
+ife around these parts also seems to move along in a well measured pace. +ocal
fol$s, commonly dressed in traditional, alpaca wool based te*tile, seem largely unspoiled
by the cultural epidemic of modern age $nown as 7aste. !hey seem genuinely sweet, and
you would gladly get yourself a local girlfriend, if not for the fact that they all loo$
e*actly the same. ( mean, "ust imagine losing such a girlfriend in a crowd.
All and all, though, 2cuador is your $ind of country.
-ooner rather than later, you run out of patience and are no longer able to cope with
the traffic crawling up this mountainside the way it does.
:uess you#re as infected with haste as anyone.
You ta$e a snea$ pic$ beyond the caravan of camions weighing you down, see that the
coast is clear all the way to the bend, swerve the steering wheel and hit the gas. !he 5eep
accelerates well at first, but once you#re already cruising past the first of your behemoth
nemeses, it starts throwing tantrums and refuses to embrace the ne*t gear. &y that time,
you#re well into overta$ing the second camion, and would have easily made it past the
third and last one, if not for a forth camion, which unfortunately has "ust appeared from
around the bend, galloping towards you with all the vitality that going downhill gives
even the most outworn of engines.
;.other<<<= you scream at the top of your lungs.
Your heart starts racing, pumping your body full of adrenaline, and you#re ready to
flee or fight. %nly thing is, there#s no one to fight and nowhere to flee. You#ve got a
whole caravan of camions on one side, a solid roc$ wall on the other, a charging bull
coming at you with a vengeance and a companion, froen in mute terror, by your side.
,ithout thin$ing, you pump on the bra$es and buy yourself a few split seconds. From the
corner of your eye, a sharpened sense of sight catches an opening; a semi-safe haven of a
shoulder against the mountainside that#ll barely fit a scooter. )evertheless, with the
charging camion upon you, you violently swerve to the left on sheer instinct.
;<fuc$er>>>= still echoes screamingly somewhere inside the belly of the 5eep, as it
s$ids over the gravel, seconds away from being stampeded by ten tons of roaring ferocity.
!hrowing in the deafening sound of its horn for good measure, it misses the 5eep by a
chic$en#s wingspread, while you wind up slamming into a massive boulder on the side of
the road.
For a timeless interval, reality freees and all becomes as silent as 6rayer.
%nly once the praying ends can the two of you breathe again.
,hen reality shall finally $ic$ bac$ in, you shall silently step out, crac$ the hood open
and ma$e sure ventilator and radiator haven#t bonded again, grateful for having gained
some mechanical s$ill and that a 5eep can ta$e such a blow and still come out smiling.
Your companion shall then ta$e your place at the wheel, pull bac$ onto the road and
commence driving the rest of the way to 8uito in utter silence; in silent eulogy and a
somewhat more cautious manner than he usually drives.
!here#s a lot to be said for staying alive.
/ / /
As the wind of condemnation blows away the last days of freedom, you find yourself
suddenly thrown into the real world, where wor$ is the name of the game and man is
doomed to be responsible for whatever he does. !he freedom to be driving a fast,
epicurean company car, with all the benefits it implies, is having said company $eeping
you occupied the whole wee$ long, with only the wee$ends free for ta$ing full advantage
of said car.
&ut boy, do you ta$e advantage of those wee$ends alright, cruising all over the
)etherlands li$e some flying 4utchman; traveling all across the north-western part of
2urope, from :ermany to France, &elgium or +u*emburg. Come rain much more often
than shine, and for any given prete*t, companionship and sheer longing to feel alive, you
drive as far as precious time permits, fuel e*penses covered and all.
!he frosty hosts of winter are sweeping over the land, rather early for some yet at the
proper time for most, covering the s$ies with their cloudy legions. 9ain soon follows,
0uic$ly submerging the flat-lands, until it becomes such a full-on flood that you#re
considering trading the car in for an arc. ,eather sure is a dish served cold during the
long 4utch winter months. -oon enough, the roads all become glaed in a thic$ layer of
frost; slippery, god damn frost, forever lur$ing about, awaiting the slightest of
mis"udgments.

You happen to be driving bac$ home from wor$ on one hell of a gloomy, glacial day,
perceived as day only by default. !he sun has already set in the early afternoon, so by the
time you hit the Utrecht 9ing road, it is way past twilight.
(t is, moreover, the principle characteristic of any given ring road to be, in addition to
being a road, also ring-li$e in shape and attribute; forever bendy and shifty to the uneasy
rider. 2specially if said rider is only too eager to get bac$ home, light up the nargileh and
shut down the nerve system.
!he rain tap dances on your windshield, as you approach a particularly croo$ed bit of
road. You slow down a bit; stri$ing a compromise between safety and haste, yet begin to
accelerate again halfway through the curve, so as to fight against the centrifugal force.
)e*t thing you $now, the car s$ids sharply, loc$ing into a petrifying carousel motion.
!hough granted a splendid three si*ty degrees view of Utrecht and its surroundings, you
are, however, also on an eminent collision course with the roadside ditch, awash, dingy
and getting more menacing by the second.
!he roulette wheel of life and death is spinning out, and you can "ust tell the odds are
overwhelmingly against you. ,ith all that is so very obscure about the whirling world
around you, you $now that you really should be scared shitless. Yet, everything seems
froen in a state of euphoria that is scaring in its own right. !herefore, you simply elect to
shut the blinds and let the precariousness of obscurity do you in instead.
For a timeless interval, reality freees and all becomes as ladyli$e as +uc$.
Coming to a halt, with one wheel dangling over that ditch, was a gift from the lady.
/ / /
Coming to a halt, with one wheel dangling over the ditch, is a gift from the lady.
For a timeless interval beforehand, reality froe and all became as ladyli$e as +uc$.
!he roulette wheel of life and death was spinning fast, and you could "ust tell that the
odds were not in your favor. Although you#ve beaten similar odds before, that $nowledge
sure did diddlys0uat in altering your sheer state of petrification. -till, you elected to $eep
your eyes wide-open this time around.
You "ust $ept watching, as the car merrily-went-round, s$idding across the frosty road,
giving you a brilliant three si*ty degrees view of prime 2nglish countryside, while
heading in an eminent collision course with the roadside ditch, awash, dingy and getting
more menacing by the second.
%f course, you could have easily avoided all of this bac$ at that sharp curve you met
only seconds ago. You did right by slowing down as you were approaching it, yet should
probably not have accelerated again halfway through, feeding this shifty ice with inertia.
(t is, however, the main tendency of a traveler on these country roads much too
traveled, to get these methodical "ourneys through woods and meadows, marshes and
fields, over and done with faster by handling swerves in the road with proper agility.
You "ust happened to be driving bac$ home from yet another visit to +incolnshire on a
particularly mean and icy day. !he wheels of the company#s Ford seemed to have such a
good grip on the road that you simply mis"udged the lur$ing glacial coating.
,eather sure is a dish served cold during the long 2nglish winter months. As cold as a
couple of humping snowmen; &ritish weather is a bitter, glacial, frigid, bleedin# element,
turning chee$s rosy crimson and forming icicle at the tip of runny noses.
!he bitter, old winter current sure did sweep over the land 0uic$ly this year,
unfortunately for some yet rather fortunate for most, 1cause what on earth would &ritish
fol$s have to tal$ to each other about if not for the wonders of the weather.
You yourself have been ta$ing full advantage of this winter alright, piloting across the
United 'ingdoms li$e the 2nglish sparrow; from &righton to :lasgow, +ondon and
.anchester. )either snow nor rain nor gloom of night stayed you from finding any given
prete*t, business-wise or pleasure-li$e, for spending every spare day traveling the &ritish
(sle, fuel and e*penses covered and all.
Finally, reality $ic$s bac$ in, as your heart stops beating li$e some teen drummer on
crac$. Cautiously, you bac$ away from the ditch, praying that there#s no other car coming
round the bend, then drive off towards yet another day.
+ive to s$id another day.
/ / /
-imilar early days of roaming the -outh American continent, slipping southwards,
from one tourist destination to the ne*t, from one garage to another, until you finally end
up in 8uito, 2cuador#s primary hub. 2ndurance carried you into town with but a single
companion; obstinacy shall drive you outta town with no less than four.
Freedom is not what it used to be, now that responsibility has leeched itself onto an
individualist "ourney turned collective. Your new partners e*pect you to ma$e the
"ourney wor$; ma$e the team wor$. )evertheless, your own conviction that you are
capable of ma$ing it all wor$ also remains as ever strong. !o the clueless girls, who "ust
bought into an e*pensive automobile without $nowing fuc$ all about how an engine
wor$s, you promise feasts and "ubilation; a life of adventure and comfort within the
spacious belly of this noble savage. You promise them all great feats of rustic traveling -
the mounting of enormous ridges, with the motor roaring in their ears; the crossing of
great rivers, splashing mud everywhere; the paving of their very own paths through the
"ungle bush, while the wind is blowing through their hair.
Your other two companions, however; an enormously powerful guy and this girl, who
loo$s li$e she could wrestle an o*, are not so easily fooled. !hey can sense the weary
tone behind these empty promises, yet follow it up with one of their own.
;,e#re a team now,= they declare, ;and we#ll deal with whatever happens as one.=
You are grateful for their genuine support, you really are. 7owever, you alone $now
what a can of worms hides underneath the hood of this 5eep; what torments and hardship
await you on every mountain ridge, river and "ungle you#d be foolish enough to cross.
,ith your previous companion, at least, there were no secrets; no need for lies or
manipulation. You both $new damn well what a mess you got yourselves into, and were
ma$ing an honest effort to ma$e the best out of a miserable situation.
!hen again, maybe things are no longer as bad as you#ve grown to imagine. .aybe all
these repairs, all the time, money and effort that were sun$ into this bottomless pit of 7ell
over the last seven months, shall finally begin to pay off. .aybe your dreams, as well as
the dreams you weave for others, shall finally come true.
&ac$ on the 6an-American highway and bound for :uaya0uil, you#re driving across
yet another cascading river, past a narrow bridge and begin to climb up a curvy road,
going along a steep mountainside and heading west on a dreamy mid-autumn afternoon.
!his time around, you ma$e sure to drive responsibly, $eeping everyone feeling secure
and in good spirits, and certainly do not entertain thoughts of daredevil overta$ing of any
sort, no matter how slow and annoying the traffic might be. A tape of (sraeli music is
playing in the cassette player, promising that itll all be good, while a $ing-sie bag of
amba
!
is passed among a bunch of mo"hileros; a heavenly taste of home away from
home they all got hoo$ed on during childhood.
You focus on the road, as visibility gets somewhat blurry on account of the position of
the sun relative to the angle of the windshield, a $nown problem on this C5-? model type.
#ee$ really should look into that one, you rec$on. %t might be dangerous if&
&ut, at that very moment, a perfect combination of solar and windshield angles ma$es
the whole world magically disappear.
@
A popular (sraeli snac$.
A second earlier, you were going up a mountainside, with a spectacular view of a
drop-dead gorgeous gorge "ust a couple of meters to your right, with nothing but a ditch
standing between you and the plunge of a lifetime, however short that lifetime might
prove to be. 9ight now, all you#ve got to follow is a glaring light. !he windshield is
reflecting the rays of the sun so intensively that everyone inside the car is blinded and
screaming at the top of her lungs. !his high pitched s0uealing becomes even less
tolerable once the car starts roc$ing violently in its invisible course. !hus, and at the ris$
of being rear-ended into the afterlife, you slam on the bra$es and bring the 5eep to a halt.
For a timeless interval, reality comes to a halt and all becomes as light as light.
,hen the light subsides, along with the shrie$ing, you realie you#ve managed to stop
at the very edge of the cliff, with two wheels hanging over the ditch and one already
beyond it. Aery slowly, everyone e*its the 5eep, and only then resume breathing.
A short while later, a pic$up truc$ pulls over and a whole bunch of locals "ump out the
bac$ of it. For a few buc$s, they 0uic$ly grab the 5eep, and together all of you lift the
heavy beast up in the air and carry it bac$ to its rightful side of that ditch.
:uess nothing much is free in life, 1cept for maybe life itself.
/ / /
!his time is summertime, and the livin# sure is easy. (srael has become your home
again for well over a year, pulling a forged worldview bac$ into a provincial prospective,
and what can be easier than receding into the womb of a mother tongue and the
fellowship of those with whom you share a familiar cultural bac$ground.
!he one harsh thing about (sraeli summers, however, is trying to $eep cool.
2ven up here, in the more acclimatied northern part of this tiny country, where a few
still flowing rivers $eep your grass green and the neighbor#s even greener, it#s so fuc$in#
hot all the fuc$in# time that you#re reduced to a delirious puddle of 0uivering sweat from
sunrise to sunset. Air-conditioning is the only way out of this 0uivering mess, which you
certainly cannot afford. ,ell, not a real one anyway. !he best you can do is have an old,
rusty air-conditioner you found in a pile of "un$ and stuffed through a window stir the
oppressive air within the confines of the concrete cellbloc$ you now call home.
For that reason, as well as for the purpose of paying for food, board, cold beer and
ne*t year#s tuition, you 0uic$ly nail a summer "ob at one of the many blue-water rafting
operations in the area. &y pulling rafts into the river and people out of it all day long, you
at least get to spend most of the scorching daytime hours in a submersed state, splashing
around, having fun and bringing home the $osher bacon.
2ver faithfully by your side is a scrawny scooter; a flaming red fifty cc 6iaggio Fo*,
released into the northern wild, where traffic is non-e*istent and nature is in abundance.
Uninsured and unbothered, this light piece of ingenious (talian engineering gets you
anywhere you wanna go. Uninsured indeed, 1cause issuing a mere yearly basic insurance
policy on it is far more e*pensive than the price of the Fo* itself; a scooter so scrawny
that it is practically incapable of doing any harm in the first place.
!he gift this little companion bestows on you is one of sheer, priceless freedom. !he
gift of mobility; the freedom to go anywhere you wanna go, on the road, off the road,
across fields, plantations and par$lands, up mountains and down to the river. &ut, right
now, all it#s gonna do is deliver you bac$ home from the rafting site, bushed and smeared
from head to toe with a day#s worth of sunba$ed mud, clay and filth.
+eaving the tedious tas$ of washing and piling the heavy rubber rafts to the rest of the
guys, you slide your helmet on covertly, $ic$-start your scooter and are burning the
gravel leading away from the river before anyone notices your early retirement scheme.
!hough it#s still the early stage dus$ and visibility is good, you turn your headlight on
anyway, as you round the curve and speed up along the byroad, running through the heart
of a small village and in between corn fields. You#ve been riding this e*act same route
every day for the last couple of months and $now every bit of this road, every crac$ and
every bump, li$e the sole of your foot.
You merge into the main road and speed up to the ma*imum this baby can ta$e, which
amounts to about eighty $mBh. !his road is where you#re most e*posed to law
enforcement, so you want this part of the "ourney to be over and done with as 0uic$ly as
possible. !he headlight goes off. 9otten tangency always plays tric$s on you. You smac$
the headlight, and it comes bac$ on again, "ust as you#re approaching a small intersection
with a service road.
You notice a car coming out of the gas station and stopping to give right of way to
other cars passing on the main road. +i$e it or not, where traffic matters, sie doesn#t,
which means he#s gonna have to wait until your little scooter shall pass him "ust as well.
At least that#s how you see it. !he driver, on the other hand, seems to have a different
view altogether. !hus, imagine the dismay at seeing him suddenly pull into the road right
in front of you.
4riving this fast on what has "ust become a collision course does not, however, leave
much time for dismal, which 0uic$ly clears the way for sheer panic. You pull on the rear
bra$es, for the front ones would send you flipping in the air, vote against shooting into
the ditch on your right, against sliding into adverse traffic by swerving to the left, come to
terms with the way things are, manage a grin and pull on the front bra$es with everything
you#ve got a split second before ramming head on into the side of that car, at a velocity
that has only been reduced to about fifty.
)e*t thing you $now, you#re human cannonballing over the roof of the car.
For a timeless interval, you#re in an utter state of shoc$, but for an annoying little
buing sound inside your head. You don#t even remember how you ended up here,
sprawled across the road in a pool of blood, nor how your poor Fo* managed to
somersault over the hood of your assailant and land, bent beyond repair, by your side.
!he only thing you do remember is the hard, cold truth it all boils down to - you ain#t got
no medical insurance either, hence must avoid a billing enema at all cost>
!hen, people begin to gather. -omeone wraps a bandage around your $nee, someone
else calls an ambulance, and the poor $id, who happened to be driving his daddy#s car for
the very first time after getting his driver#s license the day before, is as pale as a ghost.
,hen the ambulance arrives, you refuse to get on it, rightfully claiming you feel no pain
at all. 7owever, in your disoriented state, you are certainly no match for the stately
medical services. &ehind, you leave your mutilated pat, a pair of flip-flops and an oceanic
bloodstain on the road.
As it turns out, other than plenty of bruises and scrapes, all you#ve really got is a cut
all the way to your $nee bone, caused by hitting the side view mirror. At the hospital,
you#re stitched up by tired loo$ing doctor, before being sent straight to bed.
-till in a state of physical shoc$ and far too sore to move around, you spend the ne*t
day lying in a drab hospital bed, trembling li$e a leaf while calculating the piling medical
bills that shall need to be paid through teeth you#re at least luc$y to still have. 2very little
bit is sore, but most of all the heart. !here#s no two ways about it. You may play the
odds, as you have been for thirty three years, but once they get you, they#ll s0ueee you
for everything you#ve got. 9ightful aspects of dearness aside, it#s an unfortunate fact that
the medical industry charges these inconceivable amounts largely "ust 1cause they can.
!he ne*t morning you as$ your inspecting doctor if you can go home now. 7e says
that you may, but is not at all enthusiastic about the idea and prefers that you shall stay a
few more days for observation.
7alf an hour later, you stumble out of that hospital barefoot, still covered in blood,
mud and filth, and begin hitchhi$ing your way bac$ home across siling asphalt.
7ome, where your body shall mend and your heart shall soon heal.
7ome, where you shall be able to give your Fo*y friend a proper burial.
7ome, that by an unforeseeable turn of the wheel those bills shall never reach.
7ome, where you shall later find out that you were fully covered all that time after all.
/ / /
A veil of disenchantment hangs over these later days of miracle and labor; a
discontented winter of furniture hauling and truc$ driving across the state of California
and on a collision course with the inevitable turn of a century. Freedom is "ust another
word for having neither a wor$ permit nor a truc$ driver#s license, but that won#t hinder
you from riding the gravy train all the way to renewed economical independence and the
continuation of your "ourney.
%nce in a while, there#ll be an opening for a long-distance "ob going from +A all the
way up to -an-Francisco. !hose, you always grab with eal, as there#s e*cellent money to
be made on long-distance trips. &esides, it#s always good to get out of the +os-Angelical
vorte*, even if "ust for a couple of days.
.ore often than not, these "obs begin at the point in time and strain in which a whole
day#s worth of furniture has already been hauled across town. %nly then do you proceed
by driving the loaded truc$ throughout the night, so as to cover the five hundred miles
separating the two renowned cities. (n order to stay awa$e, you smo$e lots of reefers,
which is alright, "ust as long as you ma$e sure to $eep to the golden rule C always be
following the red lights and be avoiding the white lights.
At the early hours of morning, you arrive at your destination. After washing your face
and getting yourself a strong cup of "oe at a gas station, you commence clambering up the
steep hills -an Francisco is so famous for, with what is always an anti0uated truc$ on the
verge of complete and utter cave in. -ometimes it ma$es it, sometimes it don#t. (f you#re
luc$y, you#ll get to see the :olden &ridge from afar, but mostly, you see furniture up and
down endless stairs and into closet spaced apartments. !hree, sometimes four "obs ta$e
up most of the day. !hen, you gotta drive bac$ down to +A.
Your hand for this particular "ob is no longer a roo$ie, but is still a dope, and is
already snoring in the passenger seat even before you get to turn the $ey in the ignition.
&oy, would you love to do the same right about now, but someone#s gotta drive. !hat
someone is the foreman; and that foreman is you.
&y the time you reach the -an-Franciscan outs$irts, his snores have subsided, and now
he mumbles to himself in bro$en, soggy 7ebrew.
'ant wait to get ba"k on the %(), you shift gears, as you prepare to slow down at a
crossroads in the middle of an industrial area, where % "ould light u$ another reefer.
You loo$ left and right, chec$ the side view mirrors, then ma$e a wide and lay right
hand turn onto the main road, surprised to hear an added scraping noise above the usual
rac$et the truc$ ma$es. From the side view mirror you now notice a peculiar growth that
has attached itself to the side of your truc$; a lump in the form of a minute car, now being
dragged alongside, fighting and screaming. -ome hasty fuc$ing idiot has tried overta$ing
you from the right, and during a turn no less, getting himself plowed good and proper.
*ow fu"king stu$id "an you get+ you sigh, before stepping out of the truc$ and
facing yet another on a long list of roadside catastrophes.
,h well, here we go again&