144 ... Gabriel MorrisFifteen minutes wasn’t much time to think it over, not to mention
take down my tent and pack up. But to have a ride to my poten-
tial destination offered just when I was talking about it was a sign I
couldn’t easily deny—and hopefully a sign that I was headed back in
the right direction.
I decided to go for it. I wouldn’t be leaving all that much behind. I
hugged the folks I’d been talking to, wished them well on their own
journeys, and then followed the other friend to the van that was
headed for Arizona. He’d just happened to overhear the two driv-
ers talking about leaving soon for Sedona, asked if they had room
for someone else, and then immediately came and found me in the
meadow. It was an unlikely series of events, but one that my sum-
mer, and to some degree my life (or at least that phase of it) would
hinge upon.
The ride was with two mellow, friendly guys my age named
Natty and Apollo. I had seen them around the gathering, but we
hadn’t met. After confirming that they were headed towards Sedona
that evening and indeed had room in their van, I ran to my tent and
packed up my things with lightning speed. It was just getting dark as
I hauled myself into the van. We set off into the night.
Natty and Apollo were two musicians from British Columbia, in a
large, free-form band known as Down to Earth—a close-knit group
of young musicians from the Slocan Valley of southern B.C., Canada,
that included an assortment of drummers, didgeridoo-players, danc-
ers, and singers. The band wasn’t currently touring, so they were
on their own until they met up with everyone else for some gigs
later in the summer. Natty was a stocky, dark-haired, dreadlocked
didgeridoo-player. Apollo was taller, short-haired and cherub-faced,
and a drummer and flutist. They were headed to Sedona for a week-
end healing festival to do some didgeridoo sound healings, which
was one way they made traveling money when they weren’t playing
shows.
We drove all night across central California, sharing the driving
so we could make it to Sedona by the next evening, in time for