Once on the island, Knudsen ambled over to a nearby hillside, next to a stand of eucalyptus trees, and pressed his hand lens to a rock. He had found Aspicilia pacifica, a brain-white species common to Santa Cruz Island. While Knudsen observed the lichen, a park ranger welcomed the ferry passengers to the island with a few words about its history.

“Today we have with us world-renowned lichenologist Kerry Knudsen,” the ranger said. “I’m very happy to see him again. He’s written a lot about the lichen on Channel Islands National Park.”

Knudsen waved and then returned his attention to the rock. Normally, he carries a three-pound hammer and a two-inch wide chisel to collect lichens, but because this trip was a tour, not a collection expedition, he carried only his hand lens. He also normally carries a notebook with him and, right after the park ranger finished his speech, he told a story about one of the foxes on Santa Cruz Island running off with his notebook.

“So don’t lay your stuff down,” he warned the group. “These island foxes will steal it.”

* * *

Kerry Knudsen was born in 1950, in Whittier, California, the hometown of Richard Nixon. His father was an engineer, and his grandfather worked for Al Capone, distributing whisky. At age sixteen, Knudsen went to hear a talk by an anarchist at the local Unitarian Church.

“The guy started talking about what things would be like after capitalism …” Knudsen said. “And I liked the idea right away.”

The speaker was from Chicago and he told Knudsen that, if he wanted, he could run away from home and join their collective. Shortly thereafter Knudsen sold his record collection and bought a bus ticket to Chicago. He moved between several anarchist communes and worked at a surrealist art gallery. At first his parents tried to get him to return home but then they decided to make him an emancipated minor.

He spent three years in Chicago and then moved to New York, to the Lower East Side, with several other anarchists. For the next year he lived in New York, writing poetry and taking acid over 200 times. At a certain point he became involved in magic.

“Crowley-type things,” he explained. “You know, crazy stuff on acid.”

After New York he moved out to a commune in Placitas, New Mexico. In Placitas, Knudsen lived in a kiva, a small hole dug into the ground and covered with a wood frame. His perspective on this period of his life is surprisingly unsentimental.

“A lot of the stuff going on was just partying,” he said.

By 1970, with his hopes of full-scale political revolution dwindling, Knudsen moved back to Southern California to take a job in construction. He thought about trying to become a professor of poetry, but postmodernism was coming in and he “just didn’t like it.” Working construction seemed like a good option because he thought it would allow him to make money and keep his mind free. When he arrived for his first day on the job, the foreman asked him if he wanted to work inside for four dollars or outside for five dollars. He said he wanted to work outside.