Usually we post the roadtrip story along with the festival story but in this case two different people wrote each part of the feature. Also, the roadtrip was so fun, and we got so many beautiful photos that we wanted to share, that a seperate feature really seemed necessary this time. So here`s the story of our roadtrip from Portland, OR to Phoenix, AZ for SHoD IV and back to Portland. A big, big thanks to Hellmistress for writing the feature! All photos are by El Danno except the ones with the wide panoramic thumbnails, which are by Hellmistress.

The Players:

• Hellmistress = Melanie
• El Danno = Dan
• Randolfio = Mark
• Gash = Garry
• And Clare...

Nov. 4

Arrive in my new hometown, Portland, OR after moving from Jersey. Do an extensive review of the apartment with the landlord. Standard damage: holes, stains, and dirt. Treated Mark to Mikey D�s for picking me up and driving me around. During this, I decided to rejoin the stonerrock crew for the 9 day excursion to SHOD. I had no clue what I was in store for.

Nov. 5 6:20 AM

Phone rings.

�Hey, Mel, we�ll be at your place in 20 minutes.�

Tick �tock Tick-tock 8:45 AM

There�s Mark with my bag I left in October. Behind him is the van. The van that unbeknownst to me would take me many miles across the land and into my very being. Hop in.

�Hi, I�m Gash; Garry. This is Clare (face peaking out from a mushy pile of sleeping bags),� who came all the way from England.

�Mel, this is Dan. You met him��

�Hi, nice to meet you,�

�I know you, punk ass,� as I grab him around the neck and hug him. �How�s it going, Dan? Thanks for letting me come along.�

Let�s roll.

Quick stop at Spacecakes for, what else, spacecakes. Nice pad he�s got, no couch though. Mark and I split a cake. If this keeps up, this is gonna be one hell of a trip.

Figured out Dan can�t pass up a restroom. My kind of guy. Sign in ladies room: No pets allowed except for seeing eye dogs. A blind person can�t see that. Welcome to the West Coast.

Welcome indeed! Mountains upon mountains. Firs upon pines upon maples � blobs of yellow, orange, and red splattered throughout my peripheral vision. Nothing quite like gorgeous scenery and getting to know you chit-chat except for a greasy breakfast.

Never ate at a Denny�s before, not when you�re raised in the land of the diners. Basically it is a diner, but its called Denny�s with some fancy named breakfasts. Ah, our first meal together � how cozy. Clare is flabbergasted at what bang you can get for the American buck. While Dan is a lil rambunctious that the waitress hasn�t taken even our drink order. Finally�

�What can I get you to drink?� she asks.

Coffee. �Yeah, coffee.� �Me, too.� �Orange juice�water.�

�Make that 5 waters, 5 orange juice, 5 cof�3 coffees and 2 teas.�

�yeah and hold the sass.�

�and hold the sass.�

�The sass is extra.� Fucking wise-ass waitress.

Arrive in Reno at nightfall. Cruise down the strip in a matter of a minute.

�Well, that�s Reno, everyone. Wanna see it again?� Dan quips.

I�m sure Reno has a cute little nickname for itself, but all that comes to mind is a wannabe Las Vegas. End up staying at Circus Circus where else?

Hit the casino floor and head right to the bar. Clare buys the first round. What a gal! We all warm up by dropping a few bucks in the slots. We all suck or more pointedly, the slot machines suck.

Mark declares, �I�m going to play some Blackjack.�

After watching for a few rounds, Garry joins and then Clare. Dan and I decide we�ll be better at the Roullette table. Dan was half right. He walked away down $10 after plunking down $80 to start with. He did have a massive pile of chips in front of him at one point though. Who remembers if it ain�t your money.

Dan and I decide to check out the other casinoes or better yet a bar. Walk into one that had CAUTION tape around the casino floor sans a few slot machine. As we�re commenting on this, a security guard bum rushes a patron out the door.

�Scram!� �Beat it!�

Alright, forget this casino, onto the next one.

This casino�s hopping. It�s actually a little overwhelming. I ask a blackjack dealer where the nearest outside bar is. She informs us that its only a few blocks down and its� Karokee night. Oh joy! Thankfully Dan suggests we get a drink here. Was it because it was cold out or the karokee?

Spot a waitress in the band area. The band consisted of members from the Commodores, Prince, Earth, Wind, and Fire and Slick Rick. That�s what it looked like from their outfits. A minute into �Lil Red Corvette� and the wrinkled hoochi mammas getting down, and still no service. Fuck this. Where�s the bar?!?

Ask a floor man and lo behold its to our right. Many shots and Super Dueces Poker bets and it�s back to Circus Circus. They�re still at Blackjack.

Head back to the room and continue drinking. Clare recaps the zany adventure of Garry and Mark on the dancing video machine. Oh to have seen that.

Nov. 6

�Up and at them!� Dan announces as he bastardly opens the curtains. Grrr

Nice breakfast buffet and then out to Vegas. Miles upon miles of brown dirt. Who knew dirt could be so beautiful?

Mid-day the first sight of water appears on the left horizion. What is that? A lake? What the fuck? Must stop to investigate.

Spectacular! A huge salt lake with a mountain range behind it � in the middle of the desert! Enjoyed a warm beer taking it all in, but Vegas awaits.

The last stretch from Reno to Vegas at night is a long, dark desolate one. Once past Area 51, the only lights that twinkle are miles away or up in the sky. So let�s check out the sky. Wow! Never seen the stars shine as bright as they do in the desert. Why is the sky over there grayish, pinkish and glowing? Is that Vegas? Fuck that�s some city glow.

Cruising along at 75 mph rocking to Zep.

�What the fuck was that?!� we scream.

�Holy shit! Did you see that?!�

�What was that?!�

�What?!�

�Some fucking guy wearing a trenchcoat carrying a samurai sword!�

�What?!�

�It�s the fucking Grim Reaper, man!�

Shut up. Some guy walking in the middle of nowhere carrying a sword? No fucking way!�

Yeah, man! What the fuck!�

Was there a car or something?�

I didn�t see one. Did you see one?�

�Nope.�

�What the fuck?!�

Shudder. Ten minutes later stopping to stargaze and we woulda been chop suey. Chills.

Only Dan would miss the main exit for the strip and get off in the ghetto. So we come in through old Vegas, a place I know all too well. Garry and Clare are awestruck. Clare didn�t know what to make of the Ford Explorer limosine. Jokes aplenty with prime rib, Wayne Newton and Circus Circus. Tried getting some rooms at the pyramid casino (name escapes me), but it turns out that there�s an auto-parts convention in town. How many people work in auto-parts? A lot.

So we end up trudging to the outskirts of town. �Man, you guys are way out there!� Yeah, thanks, guy. Turns out we�re not too far as we thought. Lady luck is on our side.

Our cab driver recommends the Surfside Buffet. Sure. Wasn�t bad and every other song was The Beach Boys. Hell, we were the only ones who sat under a beach umbrella. High class.

We decided to eat dessert, chocolate shrooms, before dinner. With that kicking in, we hit the strip. Checking out the helicopter rides and high end cars to rent. Work our way to the Bellegio right when the fountain show ends. Timing�s everything, my friend.

Got stuck behind an old couple shuffling along.

�Sidewalk�s for regular walking, not fancy walking,� to paraphrase Jasper from the Simpsons.

�What?�

�Who shot who in the what now?�

Jasper�s the man.

Enter the Mirage to see the white tigers and aquarium. Mark almost had�something with a couple walking towards him.

�They were coming right at me. I didn�t know what to do so I just froze. Walk towards a man on drugs, the man on drugs is always gonna win.�

Words to live by.

No white tigers and the aquarium�s closed. Where�s the bar? Eagle-eye Clare spots one. 5 shots of Jager.

�Uh, all I have is about one, one and a half shots left,� states the bartender.

Oh.

�If you go around to the other side of the bar, they�ll have more Jager.�

Uh, okay. Couldn�t he just pass you the bottle?

Turns out there�s another bar on the side. Ah-ha. That�s loaded with

�Hookers!� exclaims Garry.

5 shots down, now we�re good and ready for the Hard Rock.

Jump into the mini-van cab. As we�re pulling out, I remark to the driver that I like his disregard for the bullshit stop signs in the casino entrance.

�Yeah, she�s from Jersey,� quips Mark.

Jersey, huh. So you know how the New York cabbies do it. You like that? Check this shit out!� says the cabbie.

Steps on the gas, whips out to the strip on two wheels, horn blaring. People minding their own business, casually crossing the strip with the Walk sign in their favor. The look of horror as our cab is barreling down on them. Survival kicks in real quick. They dive, yes dive like extras do in the movie, to the curb or grass median. Holy shit!

Now the cabbie�s getting into it.

�Shoot, see those people hanging right there? (Yeah) Shit, one time they were pissing me off so I drove by them and slapped em upside the head.�

What?!?

�Yeah, ya know like a drive-by only it was a slap-by.�

�Shit, I�ll give you five bucks if you do that right now,� I challenged.

�You gotta offer more than that. We�ll get pulled over and them my ass will be on COPS while you guys are stuck with the meter going. Ba-daa ba-daa. Whatcha gonna do?� He�s singing and demostrating how they�ll cuff him from behind. Oh yeah, no hands on the steering whell. Blarrrrrrrrrrrr

�Stupid muthafuckers! I wouldn�t be taking on no car. Hell no! You guys ever see that movie with the car killing people? Not Christine. This one had metal teeth, knives, flames. All that shit. I wouldn�t fuck with a car like that.�

Ah, Dwight the cab driver, car #629.

More shots at the Hard Rock Caf� Casino. Garry�s itching to play Blackjack, but all the tables are $10 or up per hand. Screw that. Glug our drinks and walk to the Double Down. Oh yeah.

What luck it�s blues nite. Man, guitar smurf can play. This cat was all decked out in blue: hat, shirt, and pants. Guitar Smurf. Many more shots and some empty pockets, we head back to our hotel.

Indulge in some cannabis and decide to go bowling. Why not, its right here in our hotel.

Some disgruntled, bitter going nowhere in his life that�s why he works the graveyard shift at this forsaken middle level bowling alley guy decides to give us a hard time, but tries to make it look like we�re giving him the hard time. This doesn�t go over well at 3am to a bunch of drunk stoners.

�So you want 5 separate lanes?�

�What?� What are you talking about? WE want 2 lanes for 3 games. Oh, and we need shoes.�

Heavy sigh, �I already rang up the games. You didn�t say you needed shoes, too.�

What a jackass. Five people walk in together with no bowling accessories whatsoever. Yeah, we need 5 individual lanes and the shoes we�ll pull outta our ass. At the end of our games, we said fuck him and left our shoes in the lanes. Take that!

Nov. 7

Day three and the Grand Canyon is our destination. Excited that we have to go over the Hoover Dam. Wow! The drive to it is all curvy with amazing views of the lake.

Of course, there�s a checkpoint at the dam. Dan reassures us that there�ll be no problem since the guard and him have the same taste in eyewear.

There was really no place to stop and park, if there wzs we drove by them before realizing it. The electricity towers were on a slant, almost horiziontal. Ooh, and the restrooms are in the towers of the dam. Neat.

More miles of brown. Drove through a few ghosttowns. Pretty spooky.

Now it�s a mission to get to the Grand Canyon before dark. The sun�s setting quickly into the gray puffs. Pull in the first parking lot.

�No fucking way.�

�I don�t believe it.�

We park right next to Nolan and Nicster. How cool is that.

How does one describe the enormity of the Grand Canyon? Its impossible. We saw only one small fragment of it and its absolutely mindboggling. It was a high all unto itself.

One must be careful walking around the Grand Canyon as only certain spots have railings. One wrong step and according to the sign, or more accurately the sign according to Mark, you�ll shit your pants if you fall into the Grand Canyon. Or your pants will fall off then you shit as you fall. Something like that.

After throwing rocks, coins, and a small debate on the benches off the side, we venture back into town. Well, try to. Turns out, literally, that we end up in circles in the park. Brilliantly observed by Garry after remarking how many schools are in the park. Thrice around the village, we stop to look at some deer. Mark ponders if he can ride them. Dan just wants him to pay attention to the signs.

�What does that sign say?�

�Oh. I don�t know, but it doesn�t say anything about not riding them, �Mark responds.

Met up with Nolan and Nicster and head out to dinner. End up closing the restaurant with many rounds of Fat Tire and Jager. Hi-jinx galore: arm wrestling, slaps to the forehead, stacking shot glasses, massages, and hair as napkins. Oh, but it didn�t stop there my friends. Back in the room, the beer spilled, feet were compared and challenged, and fools fell. They had the bruises to show for it.

Nixed the idea of sunrise at the Canyon. It was cloudy, cold, and slightly snowing. Let�s just get breakfast(at noon) and make our way to SHOD.

We find a place that serves oily omelettes 24 hours. Nic couldn�t even look at it. Apparently red wine, beer, and Jager is not a wise indulgence. Or maybe it was Clare�s vegetarian omelette with bacon. That sassy waiter would not let up about that.

Don�t remember much about the drive to Mesa, AZ. Let me be so bold to assume that it was brown with cacti and mountains with the occassional trailor parked somewhere. Hell, I believe there was some yellow tones dotted throughout the landscape.

Nov. 8 Stoner Hands of Doom

Arrive into town at sunset, par for the course. Met up with Nolan, Nicster, MadJohnShaft, and Blandoon to have a Mexican dinner. Sat outside so the smokers are less antsy.

�I wanna cat. I wanna cat. I wanna cat, � repeats a little girl. Over and over.

�Please, make her a cat,� I plead.

�Oh, and what do you want?� asks balloon animal man.

�I want a chicken.�

No one understood my request until I told them I just wanted a cock for the night. Ba-da-dum. Thank you, I�ll be here all night. MJS gets conned into having a Pamela Anderson balloon doll � Baywatch style. So with Pam riding the cock, we embark to the Hollywood Alley for SHOD.

Spacecakes set up shop in the best booth of the house. To toast his coup, Garry, Mark, Dan and I eat some more chocolate shrooms. Turns out we missed 3 or 4 bands. Oh, well. There�s still 35 to see. Don�t ask me who they all were for I only rember the really good ones and the really bad ones. Mediocre, average, run of the mill doesn�t deserve a brain cell.

The womb is now home to many a stonerrock members: Swurve, tits, stoned D, emibebe, robwrong, elia, captain codpiece, and many others dropping by. Don�t get huffy if you weren�t mentioned. More Jager shots, Rolling Rock, pitchers of Bud, double bourbons with Coke, whatever you fancy can be had at the Hollywood Alley. And it was.

Nov. 9

Dan�s feeling tired, so Mark and I with the rest of the gang head to the club. We arrive mid-set of the first band. Only 13 more to see before Unida! It was definitely a Bloody Mary ($1.50) afternoon. That changed when the first shitty band came on. Hmmm, apparently they weren�t worth a brain cell either. Time for a nap.

An impossible feat when there�s liquor aplenty. Shot and a beer I�m starting to feel normal. Oh to backtrack, MJS and I reclaimed the womb after it was infiltrated by some burly sketchy guys. Didn�t they see the cock standing guard?

One chocolate, many shots and ridiculous laughs later, the moment has arrived�Unida!! Something so unbelievably incredible ( I wouldn�t have believed it if I wasn�t there) cannot be brought to justice by mere words. The crowd, the sound, the band members were right-fucking-on! And, holy shit, One Inch Man. Brilliant! Absolutely fucking brillant!!! Night 2 at SHOD is gonna be impossible to beat: Smoke in Sunshine, Witch Mountain, Slow Horse, Eternal Elysium, and Unida. Jesus Christ!

In the afterglow, I realize I don�t have a key to the room. Fuck! Oh wait, the door might be open between our rooms. Fingers crossed. Yes, it�s open. What the fuck?

�Uh, there�s two bald guys in my room.�

Swurve and tits set up camp in the corner of the room. Seems Mark gave them a key. I haven�t had a key yet to any of the rooms. Hmmm. Hey, anyone can crash in my room when they bring tequila and vodka. Oh and a bullet. After some cocktails and tokes, Garry resigns for the night. Swurve and tits pass out. In stumble Dan and Mark after hanging out with John Garcia. Bastards! Talk about jealousy. And he had pictures to boot! Argh! Nah, that�s cool as hell they got to experience that.

Nov. 11

The final day of SHOD. Man, that went quick. Yes, we have the womb. A hat trick for the stonerrock mafia. Or was it mob? Mafia sounds more regal. I can�t remember any of the bands, but I know there were plenty that rocked my ass. Another easy night of hard drinking, no chocolates. Decide to sell them for $20 a piece. A lovely customer base that shall remain nameless. But I must comment that someone in a band still owes me $10. Fucker!

Seems Swurve and tits are crashing in our rooms again. That�s cool. Spacecakes decides to hang out for awhile. Showed him the package the chocolates came in. Couldn�t resist so I took I thought, a half. When I questioned the next morning where I lost the other half, Mark replies, �You lost it in your stomache.� Hardy-har-har. Everyone�s slowing drifting to sleep, but I�m up. Channel-surfing, I luck out and find Good Times. Hell yeah!

Nov. 12

Next morning, debating on whether to head to LA and visit Scott Reeder�s ranch. Garry got a personal invite from his wife. I make a request to stop at a Toys R� Us. Garry asks Dan what�s stuck to the windshiled wiper.

�A fucking spacecake!� Dan exclaims.

Oh shit, that�s funny. Thank god its sunny out. It was a fucking big one, too.

Garry tries Scott�s number and gets voice mail. We said to hell with it and opt for Joshua Tree State park. Go there and watch the sunset. Come on, you had to known that our goal is always the sunset.

We had a blast in the desert. With the exception of drivers stopping in the middle of the road. To hell with them. Garry and Clare wanted to see Joshua trees and cacti. I wanted rocks � big rocks! Everyone was happy. Stopped and checked out some desert vegetation. Then rolled up to some rocks or more precise boulders.

Jumped out of the van and ran to them. I love rocks! Had to climb over those bad boys. Hell we all did. Near the other end of the park, we stop for the sunset. More rocks to climb. Paths to explore. Sky was awashed in hues of pink, purple and blue. Amazing!

Everyone�s thought turned to chicken fried steak. Almost, Clare wanted prime rib. Now you�re talking. Enter the restaurant to be greeted by the hostess staring at us like we�re circus freaks. Freaks � yeah. Circus � no. Balls out ordering. Now to find a hotel.

This place was a gem. They had theme rooms, e.g. jungle room and the cave room. Clare couldn�t resist. She had to have the cave room, unbeknowest to Garry. Check this room out: it was an actual replica of a cave. It had bats, spiders, and a turtle? A round bed with a leopard blanket. A hot tub that fits four. It was incredible.

Nov. 12

Our last day driving through the desert. In an odd way, I�m gonna miss looking at the vast vacant landscape. But now we�re heading to the lush areas where the Redwoods live. Ah, color.

We see mountains that have those huge wind generators. Clare observes that they seem to be out of a Pink Floyd video. All expecting to start walking. Mark tells us a fascinating story about this 10 mile stretch of a slaughterhouse farm. Yes, cow shit smell for 10 miles. Lovely.

The smell wasn�t too bad. Freaky seeing that many cows in one area. Thanks to them we enjoyed prime rib and chicken fried steaks. Yet, seafood was on our minds since we were heading to San Francisco.

Driving over the Golden Gate Bridge at, yup, sunset. Got to see Alcatraz from the bridge. How can you not think about the movie, Escape from Alcatraz? Park at Fisherman�s Wharf. Not many tourists around. Mark�s trying to remember how to get to the sea lions. This after he got done telling us how he spent 2 weeks getting high and watching them.

Found them! They�re hysterical. There�s anywhere from 7-14 on each dock. Walk over, push each other off. Fascinating. They�re like little kids or siblings. Easy to see why Mark spent so much time here.

Met up with Moss and Clem for dinner. Moss applies thick peer pressure for us to stay and have a few cocktails. Nah for we must be on our merry way.

Long drive to the Redwoods without booze. Must stop. Forty of O.E. (Olde English) for the Brit. Some wine and some malt liquor and all is right in the world.

Stop 8 miles deep into the Redwoods forest. Have to see these giants in the daytime.

Nov. 13

My word are they massive! Another phenonom that�s undescribable. The house made out of one was a chimney was closed. Darn. The one that was a chimney was opened. Lots of stops to check out these behemoths. Clare climbed into a fallen redwood. The pit that it left from the trunk was enormous. Imagine seeing one falling towards you while driving. What do you do?

Most of the stores were closed so finding breakfast was a mission. Pulled into one area where we had the luck of spotting elks. For big animals, they sure know how to camofluge.

Finally, a restaurant that�s open. And was serving breakfast! Glancing through the paper, notice that a two-mile landslide took place on the road we�re gonna take. Hmmm. Driving along the coastline. Stop to check the ocean out. It was in a full rage. Waves at minimal 10 ft. tall foaming at the lips. Mark and I muse about the wonders of the world�s oceans. Meanwhile, Clare�s collecting driftwood and her significant other has discovered whale sperm (kelp). Bizarre.

Working our way back to Portland, a sense of the end is drawing its gloomy head in the van. We fight it down to the end is the end.

Making our way through the landslide took about an hour. Talk about crazy. A part of the mountain was missing its trees. They were to be found in the river below. What�s even crazier were these men climbing along the mountainside removing the landslide debri. Fuckin insane.

After passsing through some hippie towns and stopping numerous times for espressoes and to piss, we�re back in Oregon. Our last meal together captured the whole essence of the trip: laughter and smiles accompanied with food, beverages, and music.

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