My girlfriend Kelly had decided to spend the summer on Maui so I thought that I would bicycle the west coast. I took the Dog up to Seattle then the ferry to Kingston. I biked around the Olympic Peninsula then down the coast all the way to San Francisco and for the most part, it sucked! It was July, the hottest month of the year and the weather was cold, wet, cloudy and foggy every single day. When I biked Europe I did about 50 or 60 miles a day and loved every minute of it. Coming down the coast I was doing 100 to 120 miles a day and would have quit after the first week, but since I said I would do it, I toughed it out and did it. Well, that took two weeks so now what? I thought that I would visit some friends of mine in the mountains who lived on a large river in their vans and campers who I had known for years and like to party with every now and then. I strapped my bike to my VW van and took off for the Sierras.
As soon as I got away from the coast the weather turned hot and sunny and beautiful. I must have been nuts to suffer with the cold and rain. I got up to the river and there they were. Most of them had been camped there for years but of course, that wouldn't last. In a few years the Forest Circus Nazis would turn the whole area into a two-week stay limit, proclaiming it a "recreational area" and kick out everyone was camped there. Once more the dark forces of evil fascism triumph over the Free. Thank god we're nomads and the world is a big place.
Anyway, I pulled into Rotten Robby’s camp and said, "Hi, what's happening?" to the folks. There was Rotten Robby himself, his woman Sandy, both were in their 40's but looked 65 due to their massive daily consumption of alcohol and their crew for this summer. Big Man and his son Little Man, who was taller but weighted half as much as his father. Johnny the Christian and his wife Lady Di, who were newborn Christians but old time drunks. Boring Bill, his name fit perfectly. Rusty and his girlfriend Suzy Q, a couple in their 20's, who were nice enough even while drunk. And Jake the Snake, who only loved two things in life, booze and diamond back rattlers. He kept six of them in a big terrarium in the back of his station wagon that he lived out of.
His favorite snake was a female named Sara that was de-venonized but the other five were plain old poisonous pit vipers that ranged in length from 2 feet to over 5 feet. Jake handled all of them all the time and said "Yeah, I've been bit a couple of times, but not too bad. Just enough to make me real sick for a few days."
Everyone asked him why he kept rattlers?
He'd say, "I don't know, just crazy I guess."
No one would argue with that.
Even though Robby was the leader of this motley crew it was Jake who kept everything together. Every morning everyone would wake up and come over to Robby’s camp where Sandy made everybody coffee which everyone would spike with whiskey then light up an unfiltered Camel to start the day. After breakfast Jake would go around and collect money and orders for the town run that he made ever day for the rest of us. The orders would be for beer, whiskey, vodkie cigarettes, ice and food, in that order. Jake would then hop in his car, drive the 20 miles to town, pick up the supplies then drive back and be back by noon with the goods.
Everybody would be buzzed by then and drunk by supper which Sandy made then handed out "Bring your own bowls and spoons, cuz I don't mind cookin’, but I sure as hell ain't washin’ yer dishes." she'd tell us.
We would have a roaring fire each night, drinking and bullshitting with one another then go to bed or sleep where ever we fell then get up the next morning and do it again. It was a simple life and Robby and Sandy had been doing it forever. They worked three months in the spring and three months in the fall in the fruit orchards then collected unemployment and food stamps the rest of the time. Most of the crew would only last a year or three before they couldn't take the daily boozing any longer and had to move along, but Robby and Sandy were hard core, they were in for the whole deal and would keep it up until it killed them
This was Jake’s first year on the river, he had lost his job in the city and was now on unemployment and food stamps and thought that he would party before going back to the daily grind. When Jake started drinking he would drop his car keys and wallet into the snake pit, then say, "Anyone that wants to use my car or needs money all you gotta do is reach in there and get it."
No one ever did.
Jake was always play playing with his snakes, letting them crawl all over him, which gave all the rest of us the willey's. Everybody told Jake to stay away when he had his snakes out except for Sara, who was okay since she didn't have poison fangs. He'd just laugh and call us a bunch of sissies and we'd agree with him. So we spent those summer days drinking, smoking, eating, talking and swimming in the river in the afternoon when it got hot. If you got too tired or drunk in the afternoon and a plunge into that cold water wouldn't wake you up then you could either nap or eat an inch of datura root that grew all over the place. And let me tell you folks, that will really wake you right up.
People came and went. Sometimes folks we knew, sometimes tourist but whenever anyone new showed up especially tourist, Jake, who always wore bib overalls, would grab Sara, unbutton his fly then stick Sara tail first down his pants about halfway. Then he'd walk over to the people with over a foot of rattler sticking out of his crotch saying, "Howdy folks, like to see (pet, handle, touch, hold) my snake?"
Almost everyone would freak right out. Men would jump. Women and children would scream, "Snake! Snake!" Jake and the rest of us would laugh like the drunken idiots we were. Jake would then take Sara out of his pants and put her head first into his mouth then grin like a maniac with 2 feet of rattler dangling down his chin. We always laughed our asses off at that stunt. Most of the people thought it was sick, some even threatened to call the cops but if anyone ever did the cops never came round to check it out.
One day three girls about 20 years old from town pulled in and Jake stuck Sara down his pants then walked over to them. Two of the girls screamed and ran for their car but the other one came right up to Jake and said, "What a lovely diamondback. Has it been de-venomized?"
Jake said, "Yes.”
The girl then pulled Sara out of his pants and started playing with Sara.
Jake was instantly In Love.
They talked about what a sweet snake Sara was then Jake ask her if she would like to see the rest of his rattlers. She said, "Yes."
They went over to his car where she even handled some of the poisonous ones. They spent the rest of the afternoon together. Her two friends hung out with us saying they couldn't believe their friend touching those slimy snakes. When they left the girl promised to come back, but much to Jake’s sorrow, never did.
I spent 7 days and 7 nights with Robby and the crew, drunk as a skunk the whole time. At first it was a lot of fun too. There is something about drinking that makes the world a lot more interesting place and much more fun to be in, but after a week it just gets old. As I was crawling on all fours through the grass, leaves and dirt one day on my way back to my camp to sleep, I realized that it just wasn't fun anymore. For the millionth time in my life vowed, "I will never drink again" knowing that I didn’t mean it. I suffered with a vicious hangover for a couple of days with everyone coming by offering me a little hair of the dog that would've made me feel better but I refused, I had been drinking long enough this time. They called me a wimp, a light weight, a pussy. They said I just couldn't take it anymore, and they were right. It was the last time I have ever gotten blind stinking drunk and that’s been over ten years ago. But don't get the wrong idea, I still love to drink and to even get a good buzz going, I just don't get really drunk anymore.
I still drink wine with dinner whenever I can, a beer or two or some single malt in the evenings and a touch of cognac, rum or brandy in my coffee on a cold morning, but that's about it. There's just something about the taste and the feeling that alcohol give me that I still love. It’s Great! So let's lift our glasses in the company or our friends, take a long swallow and say a hearty “CHEERS!"