Florida marked a complete coast to coast journey for me. In but a year or so I had traveled to the West Coast and then all the way to the East Coast. That is over 2,500 miles traveled by thumb. It marked a graduation for me—I was no longer a Greenhorn kid.

I leveled up.

During this time the only other road people I had met were old tramps and gutter-punks. I met no other kids my age, nor anyone on the road for the same reason as me. Most of the travelers I met were simply in a situation where they needed to get from point A to point B and they had no other options.

They were on the road out of necessity.

I was just exploring.

And for the last year I had traveled all by myself, with no road companions… I was starting to get lonely.

I came to Florida in search of a Rainbow Gathering – a rumored gathering of road people and hippies out in the middle of the woods. After a search covering hundreds of miles of Georgia and Florida I finally had information as to the actual location for the winter Gathering.

It was about 400 miles from Miamai to the Ocala National Forest, where the Gathering was being held. But Japhy and I were making pretty good time up the i-95. We immediately caught a straight shot to Orlando with a trucker.

He was road-wise and went out of his way to drop us off at a truck-stop on the North side of the city.

Japhy really liked him.

He gave Japhy bacon.

I found a shady spot in the grass off of the on-ramp, and ran a sign saying Rainbow Gathering in black marker on cardboard. Japhy was tied to a No Hitchhiking sign, which my ruck-sack was propped against. I laid against the rucksack, propped up on one elbow while I read a tattered copy of Clive Barkers Everville.

I didn’t even bother sticking out my thumb.

After a couple chapters I heard a car honk three times behind me. I twisted my head around and saw that a convertible had stopped a little ways up the on-ramp on the shoulder and someone was waving at me from inside the car.

I hopped up immediately, slung my pack over a shoulder, untied Japhy and walked briskly to the car. Two beautiful girls were sitting in the driver’s and front passenger seat, and two crusty hippies kids were sitting in the back seat.

“Let me guess,” said the driver, “You’re going to the Rainbow Gathering?”. She had really short, dirty-blonde hair and was wearing a very small bikini. She wiggled her freckled nose sarcastically.

“Squeeze in the back,” the other girl called out, “there is room for one more”. The trunk popped open and I laid my pack atop two other packs.

“We picked these guys up earlier,” the driver said, motioning with her head to the two guys in the backseat. “My name is Butterfly,” said the driver, “and this is Starry Night”. She pointed playfully at the olive skinned girl in the passenger seat, also wearing a skimpy bikini.

I held in a snicker when they told me their names.

The guy sitting behind Butterfly was very tall, easily 6’6”, muscular with chiseled features and long black hair. In contrast the guy next to him was short (my size), his hair was cut unevenly, and his face was constantly making little, jerky movements.

“I, am f-f-fish,” said the short guy said, “and this is C-C-Chris” he said, nudging the tall guy with his elbow as he scooted over closer to them. I picked Japhy up and sat down next to Fish with Japhy in my lap.

Japhy started licking Fish’s face and Fish let him.

Butterfly started driving, blasting sublime, and Starry Night was waving her hands around in the air to the beat.

Fish’s was twitching and he was making these little gasp noises every so often. Chris didn’t look concerned.

“Are you alright, man?” I asked with pathos.

“I am just fine!”, he said shortly.

The twitching and the gasps continued.

“Is something wrong with you?” asked again, now more curious than anything else.

“I have T-T-Tourettes, asshole! Is there something wrong with you?” He shook his head like a disappointed teacher.

I looked up at Chris and he smirked slightly.

We drove north for a few hours in relative silence.

Then the girls pulled over into a rest-stop. They went to the restroom and we three waited on a picnic table in the shade a giant Black Gum tree.

Fish broke the silence and asked me where I was coming from. Turns out, they were in Key West at the same time as me…were even on Christmas Tree island.

Though I had somehow not met Fish and Chris while in the Keys, from this point out we traveled together for months and became very close friends.

Fish who was maybe 27 years old, was from somewhere in Pennsylvania, and had been on the road for a good many years. He was wearing layers of clothing, all covered in road grime. He had a metal walking stick that he kept constantly in hand.

Every now and then, when he was in the right mood, Fish would unhouse the flute that slid into the top of the metal staff and play a sad melody or a dance reel.

Fish was a genius.

He could play any instrument you placed in front of him, and if there was no instrument about he would make one. He made the flute, that was housed in the staff which he also made (he met some guy who owned a machine shop in his travels).

He made pan-pipes constantly out of bamboo and palmetto. He would throw out his hat on some nameless street corner or public fountain, place 5-10 panpipes around the hat and then play haunting melodies on one of the pipes. He would sell the pan-pipes for whatever people wanted to pay, he never set a price. When someone asked how much he was selling the pipes for he would just shrug his shoulders and continue to play.

Fish was hyperactive and fast-paced, like myself.

Chris, on the other hand, was slow to action and rarely spoke. He was about my age, that is 17-18 years old. He would often just sit in the same spot for hours staring off at nothing in particular. He always looked thoughtful. Or sad.

Or thoughtfully sad.

He was also an Adonis. He was tall, with dark skin, strong arms and long dark hair. Women just melted in his presence, much to the annoyance of Fish and I. There was many a time through our travels together that Fish and I would be sitting on a rock somewhere twiddling our thumbs as Chris had casual sex with some beautiful lady that pick us up hitchhiking.

Picked us up, I suspect, only because Chris was with us.

I picked up some of his backstory. His father was a preacher…and a very hateful man. He was abusive towards Chris and Chris had runaway from home. Chris lived in Orlando for awhile with a German girlfriend before meeting Fish and traveling down to the Keys.

Sidenote: I met his German girlfriend, and actually traveled with her from Alabama to Louisiana a few months later. But that is another story. I actually ran in to her again years later in Oregon. She was as beautiful as ever.

Anyways…the girls came back from the bathroom and twirled around a little bit under the tree. They spotted a trail and they called out to us to follow them as the skipped down the trail.

We followed them.

The trail lead to a small creek, that had a number of waist high boulders strewn about.

Starry Night brushed off a flat area on the top of closest boulder. She took an orange pill bottle from her purse and tapped two pills out onto her palm.

“Whatcha’ got there?”, I asked innocently.

“Ritalin,” Butterfly said with smiling eyes.

Starry Night began crushing the pills on the boulder with the bottom of the pill bottle. She took her driver’s license out of the billfold and separated the powered Ritalin into 2” lines. Butterfly already had a dollar-bill rolled up into a straw and she dived right in.

“Y’all want some?”, Starry Night asked, and we all shook our heads no. She shrugged her shoulders and the positioned her hands around the lines of Ritalin so help prevent the wind from blowing it.

While they were filling their noses, I pulled my stash out of my sock and rolled a joint, which was passed around between all of us.

The girls finished up and were ready to leave. I rolled the roach into one of my socks and we walked back to the car.

We reached the Ocala National Forest that night, and we camped under some pine trees in the middle of nowhere. The girls had a tent which they set up with skill and ease. Fish started a fire and we all hung out and talked for a few hours. Then Butterfly and Starry Night grabbed Chris by the arms and drug him into their tent. Chris looked at us and said without much enthusiasm, “cool”.

That was the first word I heard him speak.

Fish and I tried to ignore the sounds coming from the tent. It wasn’t easy.