A Long Strange Trip

Prologue

            On June 6th, 1972, two of my friends and I were packed and ready to begin a journey around the United States and Canada. A 1969 Volkswagen pop-top camper bus would be our home for the next three months. 

The previous summer, Joel Hinajosa and I embarked on a month-long road trip to Indian Creek, outside of Fort Jones, California. Our home on that trip was a 1959 Chevy pickup with a camper shell. During that month, we met up with Brad Blevins, who was on his way to Canada in his 1966 Volkswagen van. This was when I first met Brad.

During the winter that followed, Brad bought the '69 VW camper bus. If memory serves me, Brad and Joel cooked up the idea of doing a summer-long tour of the United States and Canada. When we first planned our route, the idea of a straight shot from San Francisco to New York seemed best. The reason for this was that the southern route, as depicted in the movie Easy Rider, might be a health hazard for three free-spirited California boys in a VW bus.

After some deliberation, we changed our minds, deciding that the only way to see the states was to sample from all of them. So, the outline became: San Francisco to Florida, via the southern states, with New Orleans being our first real destination. We would then go up the east coast, west through the midsection and up to Canada. Once in Canada, we would head west to British Columbia, then south, following the west coast back to California. Amazingly, we stayed very close to our original plan!

It was one of those hot summer mornings in Diablo Valley east of San Francisco. I had my best pair of homemade bell-bottoms on, with a loose-fitting paisley shirt. My hair was drying, which could take hours because it was so thick and long. I was sitting on my front porch looking at my old gray suitcase, wondering if I had everything necessary for a three-month trip. I decided that if it wasn't there, I didn't need it. I walked back into the house to make a last phone call to my girlfriend.

After the phone call, I went into the kitchen where my mother was standing, and asked her for the umpteenth time if she was going to be ok with me going?

"Of course, the house has been on the market for two months, and I'm sure it won't sell while you're gone. So just go, and have a great time!" She said, smiling.

My mother was the eternal optimist, and thank God, otherwise I wouldn't have felt I could leave knowing she would have to move to a new place without my help.

"Oh, by the way, did you remember everything?" she said.

"Yes, and what I've forgotten I don't need!" I said, feeling sure of myself.

"What about your money." She said, holding out a wad of twenty-dollar bills.

I looked at her sheepishly, "You are the best, and I would have just taken off without it."

"That's what moms are for." She said, laughing.

I laughed and gave her a big hug and a kiss, "I'll call you tonight."

"Be very careful, I love you." She said, with a tear in her eye.

"Love you, Mom, bye," I said, turning toward the front door.

I went to the porch and lit a cigarette; with it hanging from my lips, my suitcase in one hand and my guitar in the other, I started down the street to Joel's house two blocks away.

When I arrived, Joel was waiting on the porch.

"Hey dude, you ready?" I said as he stood up and walked out to me on the lawn.

"Yep, Brad should be here any time," Joel said.

It was about ten o'clock when we heard the VW come around the corner. The van looked great. It was white with a red stripe around its center.

Brad stopped the engine, got out, smiled, and said, "This is it, guys, we're out of here."

"It's about time," said Joel, grinning from ear to ear.

"Did you guys remember the money?" Brad said, waving his bundle at us. 

We both nodded, handing the cash to Brad, and he added his and stuffed it under the mat in the front of the van. Joel's parents walked out, and Joel said his good bye's, Brad and I shouted the same as we walked to the van. We threw our suitcases and my guitar into the luggage carrier on top of the van, Brad tied them down, and we hopped in and were gone. Before we left town, we stopped and cast our ballots for the primary election. It was our first time voting.

That night, we ended up in Barstow, California. We would cross into Arizona the next morning. 

I called my mom, collect, from a phone booth. With bugs all around me in the booth, my mom answered and accepted the phone charges. I told her where we were and that all was well. She told me reluctantly that the house had sold!

Note: My name is Doug Graham. I was 19 years old when this story took place. This was written in 2003 and edited in 2018 after visiting with Joel and Brad at Joel’s and his brother Dale’s ranch in Brentwood, California. It is now 2021. If there are errors, it's my fault. I am now 67, Joel is 68, and Brad is 70.

Happy Trails!

What a long, strange trip it was...