Back in the Hunter S. Thompson days of Aspen Colorado our Southern California Beach Bum Hippie Groups of Rock ‘n’ Roll Dope Fiends would journey to Aspen to visit friends, ski, party and have a good time. Aspen was the hip place to be for movie stars, athletes, skiers, rock stars, gonzo journalists and us Hippies.
We eventually made so many trips that we began to race; for shortest time from L.A. to Aspen. Someone made it in 24 hours, then 20, then 18 hours. I was involved in a real race between two cars coming back to L.A. only we took a wrong turn at Arizona and ended-up at the Grand Canyon – good times – we just stopped, looked out at the canyon, stared up at the stars, smoked a joint and got back on the road – waaay before “National Lampoon’s Vacation” Chevy Chase classic scene.
On a particular trip back to L.A. from Aspen, my road trip buddy (from Mind-Blower #1) and I met two girls who asked if they could hitch a ride back to L.A. They were cool and we were all itchin’ to get back to L.A. so we left right then at dusk, on Hallowe’en.
Once on the road we all four decided to celebrate the best we could and decided to take some psychedelics, probably mescaline or acid, to make the long night drive a little more fun.
After a while on the road at night when you’re out in the middle of nowhere with the blackness of eternity spread out in front of you it can cause you to lose your bearings and that’s without the hallucinogens. Toss in the spirit of Hallowe’en and you have a spooky brew; especially when you’re coming on real good to the psychedelics and reality starts to change as space and time seem to mesh and the only thing that is keeping you from spinning off into oblivion are the center-divider reflectors. Those continuous bright flecks of metal repeating so fast that they almost form a line, really helps, otherwise you’d have no bearings at all except that stars equal up and everywhere else other than your “star track” is deep space. Scary fun!
Touching back down long enough to remember that since I was driving I controlled the airwaves, I turned the radio dial but it stuck on a rock station – and the beginning of the rest of the trip began, … again, … for the first time.
“Bloodrock 2” the newest album by the Texas hard rock band Bloodrock was released earlier this month and I had heard the infamous long album version of D.O.A. – and that’s the song that played on the radio, crystal clear from out in the void; the ominous goth tonnage of heavy metal Rock ‘n” Roll in the throes of dismemberment and death. The lyrics, “I remember we were flying low and hit something in the air” – that’s just what we were doing! We were definitely flying, high actually, but low enough relatively speaking – so the song’s message had a creepy reality check.
Now this is probably the last song that you’d want to hear on Hallowe’en in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night in the middle of a psychedelic trip – but since that was the hand we were dealt, I let it ride – the whole grueling but extremely cool eight minutes of blood, guts and death and raucous Rock ‘n’ Roll and guitar solos – creepy cool shit.
Oddly enough no one freaked and we actually all had some fun getting a little scared and giddy from hearing it – again “synchronicity of strangeness” at work – like attracts like – when you’re strange and weird you attract the strange and weird. Incidences like this hold truths to sacred rituals and the power they possess.
Several hours before daylight we finally pulled over, so as not to fall asleep at the wheel, and I had amazing psychedelic Hallowe’en sex with my Female Shotgun Rider once we cuddled-down in the front seat.
Soon we were all asleep and off into psychedelic-tinged Spooky Hallowe’en Dreamland.