Seriously, there were times my death appeared to me, I had very little control. The situations spiraled and my end time was near. There was the time I climbed the sand faced Rouge River valley escarpment, a ton of dirt collapsed on top of me from two hundred feet up. I was saved by grabbing onto a tree root that sprung up like the hand of God.

My best friend and I took five hits of acid. Drove to the Scarborough Bluffs and jumped straight down. We used our bodies like human sledges, using our feet and hands to control our speed and direction. Many people died before and after our adventures there. It was an experience that is difficult to explain, but somehow skidding down an escarpment three hundred feet onto a rocky shoal, while under the influence of five hits of windowpane acid  took place without injury.

Then there was the summer I spent with the Hell's Angels. I know they are involved in criminal activities and what not. I was maybe eighteen at the time and my girlfriend who grew up with some of them, wanted  me to meet them.  The guys and gals I met were good to me, I actually remember some of the toughest dudes were the people I could trust the most. I did, and was never disappointed.

My initiation composed of jumping off the Halliburton bridge into a fast flowing river. I saw the people who went before me, jump in and surface a quarter mile upriver. They would then quickly swim to shore and walk a long way back to the bridge.

I jumped feet first, counted, one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand four and somewhere within one thousand five I hit the water.  My tail bone stung, i was quickly descending into darkened water. I lost my sense of direction. My rapid decent, water in my ears, and inexperience, terrified me.

I tried desperately to find some sense of direction in the murky waters. I felt the river bottom hit my feet. Nearly out of breath, I pushed off the bottom as hard as I could. A half mile down the river I emerged and made my way back. All my personal items were still there. My wallet with over two hundred dollars, all my ID, and a couple of  joints. No one touched it.

Well, that's shit that happened to me.

Here's the bridge

 We climbed underneath, until we were at the top of the arch. This is a winter picture, but it gives you some idea.

This is the actual bluffs me and my friend skidded down while on five hits of acid.




This is a pic of the Rouge river valley.