Last Sunday, I woke from the treehouse I'd slept in and made my way to the world's largest BDSM/Leather Festival, the Folsom Street Fair in San Francisco. The streets crawled with deviants and perverts; it was a wondrous sight.
There were all sorts of displays of debauchery: public floggings and bondage suspensions. Straight, queer, couples and groups... nothing was taboo. Sadists, Masochists, Exhibitionists, Slaves and Masters... Freak Pride!
Naked Twister, ButtPlugZilla and the Kink.com booth were highlights.
I made a new friend too, under the best circumstances:
From SF, I went north and camped on the beach beneath the stars for a night. Owls flew by and the hills were teeming with deer. Waves crashed on the shore as I feel asleep. In the morning, I took some friends to the airport, then headed north for Humboldt County, The Marijuana capital of the world to camp out and hangout with friends for the week.
I came back to SF for the weekend to Check out the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival, a three day seven stage free music festival in Golden Gate Park. While in the city I caught a bit of Love Parade, a huge rave that overtakes downtown SF for one day a year. I partied hard with friends in the Sac and the Bay... tearing up long nights with serious inebriation.
It was truly a week of hedonism; just how I like it.
Worked for the week in Pinnacles National Monument in the middle of California. It was a hilarious trip with incompetent kids and fun coworkers. A true shit-show that we could do nothing other than laugh about.
The wide open night time skies were magical, pitch black- no light pollution. The milky way streaked across the centre surrounded by hordes of stars. The days were hot; averaging around 105 and the dry climate seemed to pull moisture right out of our bodies. The focus of the trip was rock climbing, and I didn't envy the guys who'd be in the direct sun on rock all day.
Wild turkeys and deer came through camp daily, I'm pretty sure I saw feral pigs on the road at night time and a few rattlesnakes and bobcats were spotted. A few California Condor, among the last 300 currently living, circled above us in the daytime awing us with with their impressive 9 foot wing span.
Woke up on Friday around 5:30 in the AM, got to making coffee and breakfast for the camp. Within a few hours, the work week was winding down, the kids packed up and left the site and we went about cleaning up our gear and getting our final bits of paperwork filed.
As the gig was over, our crew packed the work stuff into a Cube Truck to be driven back to headquarters, had a beer to commemorate the week's end and split ways. I headed for San Francisco to meet up with friends I haven't seen in some time.
The afternoon drive put me in San Jose in the middle of rush hour. My favourite. I sat in bumper to bumper traffic, sweltering in the sun and listening to cranked up punk rock.
Finally I made it to the Bay Area, and more traffic. I had some friends in town for the weekend from Eugene as well as friends from previous lives, a slew of coworkers, and a couple of other nomads who were congregating in the area for the weekend. As soon as I sent out a message declaring I'd made it to SF, my phone started ringing off the hook.
I took some of time to myself in the East Bay, just a few minutes, smattered with calls and offers of things to do for the weekend. I made my way across the Bay Bridge to SF and dropped in on a friend who I used to work with. We caught up for a while, he showed me his place and offered it to me for the night, then he vanished, off with a girl he had plans with. His house mates came home and we spent a bit of time getting to know each other, then I went to meet up with the Eugene Crew.
The Oregonians were confused by the big city and we had a hard time actually finding a meeting spot. After cruising to every corner of the peninsula, we finally found a parking lot that we could all identify and were quickly reunited.
One of the travellers jumped in my car, the others headed to the East Bay for sleep. It was my plan as well, but after crossing the bridge, I realized: I'll get plenty of sleep when I'm dead, now is the time to party!!
So Abbey the Oregonian and I made our way to a house party I'd been invited to. The central theme of the night was "Simpler Times", both the idea, and the beer (6.2% $2.99/sixpack).
We drank and met the friends of my old comrade Jake. Drank free booze and listened to a few live bands before finding a place on the floor to crash out... it was after 3am, I'd been up for close to 23 hours.
Around 7 the next morning I came too, trained to wakeup with the sun after the prior two weeks of camping out. I dug out some coffee that I travel with and found a coffee machine in the kitchen of the strange house I'd passed out in. Only one problem... no coffee pot.
I brewed the lifeblood directly into mugs for Abbey and myself. Microwaved some stale croissants, which didn't help at all, cleaned up our gear and left to find fresh fruit for breakfast.
A quick stop by a Berkeley Hippie Commune to pick up another Eugenian, and a run to Whole Foods, Then we metup with an old comrade who took us to explore the East Bay.
First Stop: Trash Island.
A post apocalyptic wonderland. A dump site for industrial building materials that people had reclaimed and been building into an art community and squatted living space. Laws dont apply and the creative folks of the area had turned slabs of concrete and bent arms of rebar into castles, fortresses and sculptures, turning waste into beauty, giving a new life to the discarded remains of a disposable culture.
Next Stop: Sake Factory.
California's premier Sake company, we toured the Museum and watched a quick video about the production of the booze then drank samples and bought a bottle for the road.
Third Up: Rope Swing Mountain.
A huge park in Albany, A hilltop covered in Eucalyptus with a few solid rope swings. We had a picnic and setup a hammock, enjoying the shade. From the swing, you could see out into the SF Bay, all the way across to Golden Gate Bridge. Flying free amongst the tall trees, the distinctive smell invaded our nostrils. Truly absorbed in the moment.
From here: Bay overlook.
Up to the Berkley hills to a spot overlooking the whole bay, quite a sight. Not too long to stop, though, we just caught a glimpse then went to drop of one of the nomads.
A drive to Redwood City turned out to be pointless and we came back to East Bay, dropped off another companion, and Abbey and I went into San Francisco to check out a party. It was a fundraiser for a local human circus trying to go to Peru to perform. DJ's and a bar, a few Burlesque troupes: SF's anarchist, punk, and free living party scene packed a small warehouse space and got the nighttime roaring. A few Aussies that I had loose connections with showed up and we got a bit of dancing in, as much as the hot, cramped space allowed.
Made it back to Berkeley around 3:30 and climbed into a 15'x15' tree house that sits a few floors up in a Redwood, rolled out my sleeping gear and was caught some Zs.
A blink and the week was gone. 6 nights camped under the stars on the coast of Marin County in Northern California.
I spent my days cooking for 55 people in our make-shift kitchen. Two picnic tables and the propane burners along with the BBQ pit would be the tools of the trade. Three heavy plastic tubs carried pots and pans, A tackle box had been reapropriated as a 'Utensil Kit', full of knives and large metal spoons, spreaders and tongs. A menagerie of tubs and coolers locked away in the back of our large white Cube Truck would be the pantry and fridge. The blue rain fly tied the whole scene together.
Each night was a battle against the swarm of ravenous racoons that would descend upon us under cover of night looking for any unguarded scraps. We could be sure that at 9:30 sharp, the bandits would suddenly appear, creeping towards anything that might smell of a hint of food. I slept each night under our kitchen rainfly; stars in view, but protected from the weather. Unprotected however, from the racoons.
All through the night, I could hear them, surrounding me; sniffing, barking, and chirping to one another. Surely planning a coordinated attack on my face. Every few minutes, in a torpor between sleep and wake, I would jerk upright and swing around with my flashlight, only to see dozens of pairs of glowing yellow eyes staring at me from the shadows. I would reach to grab the nearest object lighter than the cast iron dutch oven and hurl whatever I could land my hands on towards the night time marauders, pushing it along its path by whatever vulgarity I could muster. They would dodge, hiss at me, and scatter off, only to restratagize and regroup, starting the cycle over again.
I was glad to get to hangout with some old friends and make a few new ones. My coworkers are generally interesting people who have amazing adventures and its fun to swap stories. Some had just returned from overseas while others had worked in similar jobs during this company's off season. No one had a boring tale to tell.
In the middle of the week, a quick trip to the beach during a short block of free time turned into more of a journey than had been expected. My friend Josie and I got lost a few times and eventually tried using my GPS for directions. It lead us to a twisted, steep uphill road, amongst fancy houses. When we finally got to the turn that put us on the main route, there was a gate with a sign which read “This is not the way to the beach, even if your GPS tells you it is...” it proceded to give us the directions we needed. We could see the road, the gate didn't protect any property other than 5 feet of hard packed dirt between this littly residental road and the main road. I swore out the window at the top of my lungs, got out to check that the gate was really locked and the quality of the chain. It all turned out to be horribly true, and we didn't have any way to nueteralize the problem, so we had to flip around and go back out the way we came. We finally made it to the beach, where had about 15 minutes to dip in the ocean and take a few pictures before returning to work. But those 15 minutes were spectacular.
Friday came and the work week was at an end. All of my coworkers decided to go to the Lagunitas Brewery in Petaluma to unwind and have some adult-oriented fun. We made our way through the windy roads to the picturesque town and found with brewery with minimal issue. Turns out, our luck was high, because we caught the tail end of the tour, just in time for the free beer tasting. We had a few complimentary pints then made our way to the 'Tap Room and Beer Sanctuary' where we paid for a few more. I befriended a tattooed punk couple from Santa Cruz who had been in town to see a lecture about sustainable living. A live band provided a soundtrack to the afternoon, providing some danceable toons for our crew. A variety of delicious beer was ordered for our table and we shared tastes. I thuroughly enjoyed the “Ruben and the Jets” and the Red.
Finally, I left the crew, they were headed to San Francisco to meet up with other friends and continue the party. I had business to attend to and we said our good byes in the parking lot, a good end for a good week.
