After some distance a patrol car pulled up behind me and began flashing its lights and sounding its alarm. Damn!
The patrolman was courteous, but still he ordered me out and searched my van. I asked him what he was looking for, and he only mentioned that he had a call about Hippies that had done some shoplifting near Phoenix two nights ago. He let me go after I showed him my drivers license and vehicle registration.
I recalled that the Hippies had new clothes in bags––some with tags still attached. Phaedra even offered me a new pair of flared Levis. I thought about telling the patrolman they had also stolen my tires, but realized I might get involved in something I would later regret.
I made it to Wickenburg without incident. I ate a decent meal in a nice restaurant while waiting for my wheels to be re-rubberized.
When I mentioned a discount because of the tires I traded in, the dealer shook his head without emotion and handed me the bill, which included a five dollar disposal fee!
I was getting an education on the road courtesy of the hard knocks of experience.
I wanted my van painted, but aside from the cost, it would require sanding, and I would have to lay over a couple of days. I decided to save time and money and suffer the consequences. Kingman was my destination, and that was still a long way from Borax.
I stopped at a small village called Wikieup, for gas. The attendant was a friendly sort, and when I told him I was heading for California by way of Kingman, he suggested a shortcut on a secondary road called Chicken Springs Road, and that it would save me close to a hundred miles.
Chicken Springs Road was a two lane well maintained hard top road. My van handled it very well, being a natural creeper. I was occasio...
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...West of Rockridge. “Look closely at your map and you will see a small dot and crossed picks, near my mark,” he said. “That’s Borax.”
“I see,” I said, and laid the map aside. The town was on the map! But how was I to know that a dot and crossed picks was Borax?
“Is there a town around here somewhere?” I asked. I was exhausted. The recent activity in two states had drained mind and body. All I could think of was something to eat, and a soft bed and sleep.
“Parasite, about twenty five miles ahead has a motel, gas and food,” the trooper said. He turned and walked toward his car. “Have a safe trip, Miss Fisher. And––welcome to California!"
I looked in my mirror and breathed a sigh of relief: the patrol car turned and crossed the median strip and proceeded in the opposite direction, lights flashing. I put my van in gear and slowly continued on my way.
“This Hippy pai
Another ghostly story of the town is one that dates back quite a while. There is a road in Canton known as the Magic Bus Road (actually named Sunflower RD) where many peculiar things have happened. Apparently there used to be a school bus on the right side of the gravel road before a bridge. On this road, many people have seen strange figures, bizarre lights, and even a phantom gate. Laurie Ericson, a long-time resident and college freshman at Culver, said, "It used to be a real party spot.
Ofc. Lazic noticed a clear plastic baggie in the plain view sitting in the cup holder. This officer asked Smith to exit the vehicle and she grabbed the baggie and placed it in her pocket. Officers escorted Smith from the vehicle and located the baggie in her right hand. The baggie contained marijuana shake. Officers placed Smith in handcuffs and advised her she was being detained.
a fight a few blocks away. When I ran to the scene, the fight was over. However,
Many State Troopers were being investigated for a variety of discriminatory stops. An attorney, William Merton, has been a part of the investigation of the troopers and found some very interesting information. A man named John Mean was pulled over by the troopers, where he was driving the same speed as the cars around him and he was pulled over. He then was threatened, with the probability of a search warrant, to give up his privacy rights and be searched. His car was then searched and he was release with a warning, twenty-five minutes later. This incident, like many others, was not reported, which shows a suspicion in the data collected from the department (Bouie 2014).
sat down to rest and then heard sirens in the distance. We saw a blue and white
paid for the items, collected the bags and was about to leave the store when the blaring siren went off.
...make that phone call—all that stuff. I also gave him my address, which I couldn’t remember right now, but I did back then. The officer then said that some firemen with axes would be coming. I waited and waited and waited and blew 10% of the battery on playing “Tetris” on my brother’s phone In about an hour or so, I heard some banging on the door and then a large hose completely obliterated the pile of rocks that originally seemed so large and unbreakable. And yes, the hose felt like an earthquake, which unhappily reminded me of my experiences in a trapped apartment The firemen sent me back outside, where I used the almost dead cellphone to call my brother. He was so scared that somebody found his cell phone that he thought it had been a prank call. He was very relieved when he found out that it was just me. In fact, both of us were happy just to see each other again.
And there they were, driving to British Columbia in a pick-up truck with a broken $50 cap tied around with a metal chain and a pad locked looped around the door and over the bumper. “We looked like total hillbillies”, says Jackie as she laughed and reminisced. They had nothing but this broken pick-up truck cap with an Eastham Rod&Gun club sticker with an NRA member sticker, all of their clothes, and each other.
“I’d prove it”, I argued.So, he took me to an abandoned airport. I put the tires on my car on the way there.It was hard,it was so wabbly,I also charged the batteries.
several careers. The turning point came my junior year at KSU when I took a seat next to a stranger, who
"It was like a little village. It wasn't so bad. Now all that's at risk."
A precautious individual, I began to pedal at a slightly increased rate. Still I didn't feel as though I was in any real danger, until the car flew past me, grazing my arm. An excessant shriek erupted from the car as it grinded to a halt at the coming stop sign. Then, to my greatest horror the white lights on the rear of the car ignited......the car was going in reverse.
I was always uncomfortable driving such a large vehicle, and was eager to reach my destination to unpack. I started the tank, kissed the hubs, and backed out of the driveway one last time. The trip was like any other that I 'd made the past 365 days; nothing out of the ordinary, and typical perfect Colorado weather. The conditions were absolutely perfect. Unfortunately, weather and light traffic don 't always equate to "safe."
I was too scared. I never wanted to drive again. Just the thought of being behind the wheel made me nauseous. But as time went on, I began to realize that I had to get back out there. If I kept putting it off, I would have never driven again and my family felt the same way. So I started back slowly. I would drive to the store or to my friend’s house and then gradually, I began to start driving normally again. That experience has definitely changed my life forever. It has made me a safer driver who always looks twice and pays attention. I never want to experience anything like that again and I will do everything in my power to make sure I do not. I also do not take my days for granted anymore because, I never know when one will be my last. That afternoon still haunts me to this day. It has now been almost two years since then and I still have yet to drive under that same underpass. It still terrifies me to think about it. But, no matter how awful that day was, I know it had to happen. It changed me, not only as a driver, but also as a
with the horse manure. When the scientists asked the boy why he played with the