CROSS COUNTRY

 CROSS COUNTRY


  Well I hooked back up with Morgan and we hit the road. I don’t remember much of this trip which is surprising since it was my first time going across Canada. I got in a fight in Regina with a couple of morons in the park downtown but other than that it’s a blank.

  I think it took us a week or so to make it to Vancouver. We stopped in every major city on the Trans Canada but only for the night and moved on. Our goal was to make it to Vancouver, meet up with Lance and Syd, and hop a freight train down to the states and head to San Francisco. I will always remember we had a cigar that we were going to save till we got to SF and light it up as soon as we were there.

  All I really remember when I first got into Vancouver was that it was a really nice day and I thought to myself, “Wow, this palace is really something else,” Looking at the Skyscrapers with the Rocky Mountains in the background. I was super happy to be there.

  When I was 12 years old I was in jail for three months for a break and enter, but I was going to school while I was there. One day I found a book on “the shelf” and it had a picture of downtown Vancouver on it. I said to myself that day in class that I was going to go there one day and here I was looking at what I was pretty much looking at four years ago in that book! It was awesome.

  We were downtown when we got dropped off but Lance told me they would be on Broadway and Commercial streets. So we headed that way and found them sitting by Safeway making money. 

  What I didn’t know about this city at the time was that drugs were everywhere, and cheap! So in no time at all I was strung out on coke. I had tried heroin in Montreal a couple times, but I didn’t like it.

  Morgan ended up going back to Ottawa a couple weeks after we got there. I don’t blame her though. I was always ditching her and treating her like shit. The fuckin’ cunt stole my super punk rock leather jacket. I wanted to kill her.

  I shot speed for the first time under the Broadway Street Bridge. Lance said I would probably like it since I was a coke head, but truth be told, I fuckin’ hate speed. Speed makes me physically sick and super paranoid for hours on end. Not fun! I was shooting a lot of coke and staying up for days on end while I was squeegeeing on Main St and Terminal and from there it was a five minute walk to that god forsaken street East Hastings. On a bad day when my feet were full of blisters it would take me 25 minutes to walk there. It was my first time on E. Hastings and I felt like I was in another world. E. Hastings is nothing but 20 blocks of people asking you if you need up, down, rock (referring to coke,) heroin, crack and prostitutes, and people shooting up in their necks - right across from the cop shop. It’s fucked. People getting shot and stabbed - you name it, it happens down on that street.

  When I was over by Broadway I would sleep under the Clark St. bridge by the C.N. train yard. I remember getting off the SkyTrain and Lance would have to push me back to the bridge in a shopping cart because I could barely walk. I was a mess.


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