9

c h aP t e r 12

I

shaved my head shortly before my twenty-third birthday, to sig-
nify the transition I would soon be going through—either that of
miraculous healing in life, or else the awesome passage of death.
Which path I might follow was still unknown to me. I knew only
that it would be a profound challenge either way.
I finished up my library job and math class at the community col-
lege at the end of May. A few days later, with loaded pack on my
back, I said goodbye to my mom and step-dad and left Ukiah for a
summer that I knew would be filled with adventure as well, hope-
fully, with peace and healing. I did in fact seem to be doing a little
better than a few months earlier; my back was slowly mending, and
the intensity of my symptoms had lessened slightly.
I hitchhiked twenty miles north from Ukiah up to Willits to visit
Abram for a night before continuing northward. I intended to make my
way up to Eugene to visit my friend Matt and my old yoga class and
then head out to a small Oregon regional Rainbow Gathering in early
June before going to the larger national gathering in New Mexico.
I ended up staying awake all night with Abram in his cabin, bullshit-
ting, listening to music and playing basketball by the light of the half
moon. The next morning, exhausted, I said goodbye, left Willits, and
continued hitching north. Later that afternoon, I was somewhere
north of Arcata, when I found myself too tired to continue on, due
to lack of sleep the previous night. I was literally falling in and out of
sleep as I sat on the side of the road with my thumb out. I decided
to call it quits for the day, since I was in no big hurry. I hiked into a
nearby field, lay my sleeping bag out in the tall grass, crawled in, and
fell into a long, deep sleep.