vagabond wishes?? start of a story about Humboldt

KerouacDaBuddhist · 02-21-2009, 06:34 PM

I arrived in Humboldt County with Vagabond wishes and afghani dreams. I had landed in Eureka, on the wings of chance, with very little money and my energy stores completely drained from hiking over a 1000 miles of the pacific crest trail. It had been a journey of introspection and of questions that only I could answer. The hike had been in itself a walk of faith or leap even if you dare, for when it started I had no clear cut destination, only questions. But as I walked the streets of Eureka, that cool early July morning, I felt indeed that I may have found it. The quaint Victorian builddings were resplendant in their ornate attires, clashing mightily with the still marine layer blanketing the quiet streets. Their colors seemed to reflect of every surface that was diffused by the calm grey sky. Gently plucked chords wafted from seemingly every window, cracked open just enough to entice the melodies escape. As I wandered the new streets, the delicate smells of the sweetest herbs wafted behind me. As I wandered, with no destination, turning corners only to be blessed with new delightful aromas, the quiet streets began to come too life. The storefronts, just an hour ago, dark and muted; now twinkled with lights and a menagerie of coastal goodies and trinkets. I passed a variety of Music Stores, and a few Smoke Shops. The local coffee spots were brimming with activity. Music seemingly creeping out from under every crevasse. The acrid smell of coffee beans roasting drifted through the back alleyways of this quirky place. Still I wandered on, the gentle breezes caressing me with the tendrils of the woman I had come to love, Mary Jane.

I first heard tales of Humboldt County when I was just a young teenager in Georgia. The stories I heard were fantastical tales of Mountains of marijuana with plants as tall as a house and buds as big as your arm. I would listen to these stories and daydream about California. Was it real? I grew up in a time and place where hippies werent to welcome. I remember thinking that hippie types must be crazy, and certainly smelly and dirty.It seemed a world away at the time,and the dream gently faded, but I never forgot the stories and somehow presciently I knew that I would get there eventually.

It was a long hard struggle from there to here, one that nearly killed me. The hike had been an act , all at once, of contrition and cleansing. A trip were I looked into the deepest depths of my being and found an answer. With a sense of revelation I arrived in the bosom of the Emerald Triangle, penniless, houseless, and a smile on my face. I had found my aspiration along the constant to and fro and the ups and downs of the endless trail. I had arrived with love in my heart and a spirit frothing with life, for I had faced my demons and had come out smiling. The meaning of the word 'Eureka' seemed to ironically ring true.

this is the beginning of a story I am working..still pretty rough..welcome any comments...thanks!!

02-21-2009, 06:34 PM	#1
KerouacDaBuddhist New Member Join Date: Feb 2009 Posts: 11 Grams: 736.80 Thanks: 1 Thanked 2 Times in 2 Posts Stock Portfolio Total Value: 0.000 Gain/Loss: 0.000%	vagabond wishes?? start of a story about Humboldt I arrived in Humboldt County with Vagabond wishes and afghani dreams. I had landed in Eureka, on the wings of chance, with very little money and my energy stores completely drained from hiking over a 1000 miles of the pacific crest trail. It had been a journey of introspection and of questions that only I could answer. The hike had been in itself a walk of faith or leap even if you dare, for when it started I had no clear cut destination, only questions. But as I walked the streets of Eureka, that cool early July morning, I felt indeed that I may have found it. The quaint Victorian builddings were resplendant in their ornate attires, clashing mightily with the still marine layer blanketing the quiet streets. Their colors seemed to reflect of every surface that was diffused by the calm grey sky. Gently plucked chords wafted from seemingly every window, cracked open just enough to entice the melodies escape. As I wandered the new streets, the delicate smells of the sweetest herbs wafted behind me. As I wandered, with no destination, turning corners only to be blessed with new delightful aromas, the quiet streets began to come too life. The storefronts, just an hour ago, dark and muted; now twinkled with lights and a menagerie of coastal goodies and trinkets. I passed a variety of Music Stores, and a few Smoke Shops. The local coffee spots were brimming with activity. Music seemingly creeping out from under every crevasse. The acrid smell of coffee beans roasting drifted through the back alleyways of this quirky place. Still I wandered on, the gentle breezes caressing me with the tendrils of the woman I had come to love, Mary Jane. I first heard tales of Humboldt County when I was just a young teenager in Georgia. The stories I heard were fantastical tales of Mountains of marijuana with plants as tall as a house and buds as big as your arm. I would listen to these stories and daydream about California. Was it real? I grew up in a time and place where hippies werent to welcome. I remember thinking that hippie types must be crazy, and certainly smelly and dirty.It seemed a world away at the time,and the dream gently faded, but I never forgot the stories and somehow presciently I knew that I would get there eventually. It was a long hard struggle from there to here, one that nearly killed me. The hike had been an act , all at once, of contrition and cleansing. A trip were I looked into the deepest depths of my being and found an answer. With a sense of revelation I arrived in the bosom of the Emerald Triangle, penniless, houseless, and a smile on my face. I had found my aspiration along the constant to and fro and the ups and downs of the endless trail. I had arrived with love in my heart and a spirit frothing with life, for I had faced my demons and had come out smiling. The meaning of the word 'Eureka' seemed to ironically ring true. this is the beginning of a story I am working..still pretty rough..welcome any comments...thanks!!

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