About a year ago, money was a commodity fading fast in my life. Even without rent, utilities, and enjoying free WiFi, life on 4 wheels was barely enough to get by. My job had slowed down, leaving nothing for savings, and I needed money badly.
A friend was expanding his Carnival business, and wanted a second crew. Based on past years performance, he estimtated I'd make $45k - $60k in a 6 month season. Even on the lower end, $45k would be enough for 1-2 acres of rough land, where I could live sustainably. It appeared my ticket out had arrived.
Others would go of course, a 19 year old girl, Victoria. Teenager opinionated, does her makeup constantly, pretty, tall, blonde, and the perfect dream of a body. My buddy joked I'd be pining over her, while gay 27 year old Steve the 'Pirate', with his long red hair, earings, biker boots, and a black bandana, pined over me. She'd face paint, he'd do airbrush tatoos, and I'd run a photo booth.
So without any towing experience, anxiety mixed excitement, and the sexual tension of a High School dance, I hitched our trailer, and headed after a chance at freedom. On our way to our first show, we made pit stops at various mountain towns, and the awkwardest thing happened at a Tim Horton's. I told Victoria I liked her pink highlights, and Steve said, “It begins” and started singing “Tale as old as time” from beauty and the beast. It was like we were on a 2/10 IMDB rated movie, and any chances were headed straight to DVD.
After a long ascent over mountain passes, we started downhill. I put the vehicle in 3rd gear, never exceeding 80km/hr, or else the front end vibrated horribly, if I braked. With each semi-truck runaway lane passing by, I gripped the wheel tighter and tighter, until I became the van. At one point in the night, we did no more than 60km/hr, for most of a never ending downward hellish spiral.
After a 2 day stretch, we made it to the Vancouver area, and camped beside Walmart a short walk from Hastings Street. The whole area was covered with homeless people, living in run down motorhomes, vans and tents. Tarps covered every RV roof, cardboard in all the windows, empty propane tanks littered the street, and there was garbage everywhere. It looked like they've been there for years!
After we settled in, I took a trip to the MacMillan Science Centre. What a absolute dissappointment. All the displays we're 20+ years old, and some didn't work. Even the astronaught 'Mark Hamil' doppleganger floating from the ceiling wasn't enough to save it. The best part... a goose, hanging out on a huge window ledge pecking the glass.
Hoplessly confused and angered by the invisible barrier to it's goal. It continued pecking at people, hissing and beating it's beak against the glass. Not unlike a mirror image of myself trying to get off-grid, hissing angrily at banks and government, while failing to realize my plans were also not practical.
Some children stopped by and banged on the glass, sticking their butts in the birds face. The bird lost it's mind, puffed up and wildly attacked the glass! It looked like Ottawa hard at 'work', childishly running our lives, wasting resources and expecting us to pay for it.
Back at the trailer, our 'neighbors' made an appearance. A couple, living in what appeared to be a hoarders dream house on wheels. Packed with everything and anything, right to the windows, I didn't even think it was possible to be a hoarder living in a trailer...
Through his toothless smile, he said, 'Anybody could park here on the street for months, without issue. Nobody cares.' There are people camped on every corner here. Unwashed. Unkempt, missing teeth and wearing wife beaters. We think our neighbours, if not many of the 'locals', are Meth heads.
Life 'off-grid' on East Hastings is rough. Drug dealers are prevalent and would shoot you without a care. People steal to feed their drug habits, and Pan handlers are at every major intersection. And in the spaces between mainstream society, tents, and tarped off voids. Nothing but hobo nest after hobo nest under overpasses, down by the train tracks, in wooded areas, and even right against sidewalks.
The compulsory rat race way of life many of us struggle with, is exactly why there is homeless, violent crime, theft and drug addictions. We are forced labourers in a wealth accumulating machine, and we are not the recipients. Naturally people go crazy and act out, when the stress induced from the daily grind becomes unbearable.
Not long after we'd witnessed how urban people live 'off-grid', Victoria and Steve were walking down a nearby quiet street to a coffee shop. I felt my roommies could use a ride on the white trash rollercoaster, to get a real kickstart to their day, better than any cup of coffee.
Quietly, from behind, then suddenly I burst out in a shrilling unsteady voice, “Got any spare change?” The terror was overpowering. Steve jumped, twisted in the air, yelped unintelligebly and ran away. Victoria almost fell over herself running, and likely peed a little. I laughed for days and days!
At our first show together, we pulled into a Coquilam mall parking lot, where the show was to begin the next day. Security booted us out within 2 hrs. The entire Carnival had to pack up and sleep elsewhere! Overnight parking is strickly enforced against city wide, and it's not the first time we've been 'asked' to leave. No wonder Vandwellers are so secretive. The whole area has been brainwashed against alternate forms of living.
We eventually did find a spot, a dead end road, in residential to spend the night. It was a quiet little street facing a large fenced off empty lot. We stayed there for a few days, before bylaw came around. Someone had complained. Bylaw lady was nice about it, and realized we we're workers just passing through and let us off.
Lately Steve has taken a real liking to afternoon long walks, which he claims are just to get out. My buddy and I think he's out on 'dates'. Victoria and I are pretty close, and Steve and Victoria are close sometimes too, depending on how annoyed she is with his gayness. I guess she gets irritated with overdone feminine side. Anyway, she says he's hooking up in McDonalds bathrooms! Gross I know. Wash your hands, and don't touch the handles on the way out!
All throughout our trip we've been washing up at local Aquatics centres. At one pool, the hot tub was tiny, like 6ft wide tiny. Across from me, near Victoria sat a skinny guy in his early 50s, with long hair and tight spandex. Some asian Yakuzza crime boss, sat next to me, kept splashing water on himself, and my face. I looked at him several times with the hatred of a thousand suns, but sushi chef had water to chop. So I wiggled into a tiny space next to Victoria.
“Ah, not any further. You see what you're pushing me towards!” She squirmed in disgust. Arched on the ledge over her, one leg up, one in the water, the old man displayed his wares, alternating his legs frequently. Anyone at eye level, Victoria... got a close up of his bulging crotch, a mere arms length away.
When we weren't surrounded by creepy old dudes at public pools, or hooking up with old dudes in bathroom stalls, we worked. A typical weekend show for us involved driving a relaxing few days to our destination, setup our booths, and work our own pace from Noon til 10pm.
I had plenty of time for dates and outings, but sometimes we did a week long show, leaving no time for fun, just dealing with lower forms of life, and listening to annoying carnival ride rules looping over a loudspeaker all day. And splashed over that, John Williams greatest hits; Star Wars, Indiana Jones and Neverland over and over played from the “Raiders” kid obstacle course. "Experience the Raiders... Be cautious... Walk! Don't run!" All. Day. Long.
April 1
Compared to our routine, the Carnival ride crews are worked like slaves. Once a show is over, they tear down immediately and drive to the next city and setup. This typically means rides are packed from 11 pm til 2 am, and transported for several hours. An hour rest is then taken, before resuming the drive. Once they arrive, trailers are unpacked, and rides assembled. When that's done, then they have an actual sleep.
Sometimes I'm setup next to thee loudest ride on the grounds. The Hurricane. It has 8 cars fixed to a central mast. Pneumatic, and hydraulicly driven, it spins accelerating to several Gs. Riding is a mixture of excitement with the fear of death.
As it comes to full speed, centrifugal force slides you outwards, and then each car surges up and down. The forces are overwhelming, to the point you can't raise your arms. While in this state of immobilization, there is a speed burst, releasing a loud hiss of air, stabbing into your ear drums like nails.
An operator of the Hurricane told me, once a guy puked. So what? We'll, the ride goes so fast, every person behind him caught some, and a bunch more people barfed it along. Of course it all has to come down... puke sprayed the operator and everyone below watching. Another time some shmuck took his camera on the ride, against warning. He got his tooth knocked out by his own camera.
Back at our trailer, bylaw lady came by again. Some grump had complained about us, again. She was understanding, and tried to get us permission to use the empty lot beside us. She wasn't able to, so on Monday night we moved to Home Depot.
A shame large unused empty lots like that go to waste, much like how a company like Marks Warehouse will cut up perfectly good shoes, that a customer wore for one day and returned, yet charges you $500 to keep it. We live in a system of waste, and refuse equality for all, with the aim of class separation. I know this to be true. I've dumpster dived. The amount of product and food waste is beyond comprehension.
Home Depots back lot looked largely unused, potholes everywhere, and customers never park there. We thought we'd be okay for the week. It's been difficult finding a parking spot for more than one night, so this is a real morale booster. It's nice and quiet, trees nearby, and a view of the pine covered mountains. Frogs and coyotes put me to sleep every night.
I guess our secluded camping spot was too perfectly quiet. Cut chain links lay on the ground where our generator used to be. Someone used a grinder, plugged right into our generator to cut it loose. It was on a hardened steel chain! You could even see marks from chain cutters, where multiple robbers had failed. We just never expected anyone to pull up in broad day light with a power tool!
That's the trouble with off-grid living, even if you aren't a property owner and live out of your trailer, RV lots will deplete your funds with over priced stalls, and no one is keen to let you stay near their home, or use an unused vacant lot! If by some miracle you're not run out by the cops, you will face territorial locals, who might do something to your trailer. I once had a gallon of water dumped through my minivan window, while boondocking. People are miserable empty selfish bottom feeders, and anyone living outside of the daily grind is an enemy.
April 6
We've been rained out for several days now. If we get called into the Fair, I doubt it will be longer than 3 hrs. I'm never doing this again! I think lottery tickets, or Kickstarter campaigns would have been better. I'm beyond upset, and I haven't been on a date in a month. I'm going out to multiple movies, and eating my feelings; oatmeal chocolate chip cookies, or anything else sweet to numb the reality of making little money. My soul is decaying in tandem with my teeth.
April 7
It was so windy at the Carnival, a vendors tent lifted up and blew away, spilling his wares everywhere. None of the rides dare to start up. The Carnival owners are deciding if they should risk opening. Some of their boothes, like the mini donuts make $5000 per day. So greed over safety could possibly win.
My companions tent was jumping in the air, up to 6 inches and violently slamming back down. The lot owners hadn't allowed us to stake down and the tent water weights weren't adequate. Compounding the jumping of their tents, they were attached to each other, acting like a mega sail. In the midst of this emergency, Steve wanted to open all the walls, and let the air pass through, to see if that would help.
Have you ever opened an umbrella on a windy day? 45 km/hr winds and gusts up to 70 km/hr, and we're standing inside a giant wind sock. Ya, just like that the tents would hurl off into an oblivion of twisted metal. Anyone caught in it's path could be killed.
Steve went for the walls. I stepped in front of him, but he persisted. My survival instincts kicked in, and I became, how shall I put this, threatening? Getting seriously hurt or killing someone with a missile tent was not happening. I was perfectly willing to knock him out.
On my command, we lowered the tents halfway, before slowly opening a tiny airway to see what that did. He actually complained about getting the walls dirty! Death or crippling injury was on our door step, and he's worried about getting things dirty!? That's how people get killed. They're situational awareness is just that low, or simply put, stupid.
We took our tents down and packed up, even before the Carnival owners made the call to stay closed. It just wasn't safe, and I didn't need someone else to tell me that. Good thing too, the wind only got worse, and it rained monsoon style.
About a week later, after making a little money, we caught a ferry to Nanaimo. It was an intense experience. Everything on the ship was huge. Deck crew wearing protective masks, directed me into our parking lane, which was over 15 semi's long, right along with all the Carnival rides. A deep bassy rumbling hummed all around, and you could feel it vibrating through every deck.
We were located at deck 2, just below the water line, and completely enclosed behind the metal bulkhead. No doors, no windows, just a heavy sliding metal door to the surface, with a big green button to activate it. The door automatically slide open, Star Trek style, and regardless of any obstacle would shut a moment later. A sign next to it simply said “Warning. Pinch point”. I envisioned the ship sinking, and some poor devil caught in the door, unable to escape as water poured all around, just like on that movie 'the Abyss'.
It was a great trip, kinda like taking a cruise, except only 10% full! For 2 hours we passed by several islands and navigated through a few channels. On either side you could see beautiful vacation homes all alone, in the vast wilderness. Part of me was envious of the homes of the super rich, but I finally felt a bit of fun since we'd been out.
One of the first things we saw, off of the ship, no hitch hiking signs. Signs were posted everywhere against it, threatening, umm warning, yes warning drivers not to pick up someone that might legitimately need a ride, or you'd get fined. No surprises with blocking people movements in this day. BC used to be a big hippie province and people hitched all throughout the 60s right up to the 80's. Then bam! Some rich folk, as usual, put a stop to the way of the free spirit.
If you hold all the land, control the food production, and the utilities, you can make people do whatever you wish, including restrict their movement. It's much like a dog, begging it's master for table scraps. You only get what is given or falls to the floor.