Disclaimer: Memory is a funny thing, and an elusive one. Meaning; I might have some of this wrong, as 1. My memory is not always accurate, like anyone and 2. It is from my perspective only. Any friends who were there, feel free to correct me or add things I have missed. It helps! Also, no gossip on anyone here, it aint about that. Personal details are on a surface level, and friends, girlfriends and others are re-named to respect their privacy. People in bands generally put their names out there on albums and in interviews anyway, and are not in the habit of staying anonymous, and therefore are named here. That said, anyone who is in the blog that wishes me not to use their name has only to ask.
The Cruel Desert That Spawned Us Calls Us Home - SOC's 1987 Tour; a perilous journey, Part IV: Green River Utah Blues
Welcome to Green River, Utah!!!
Where were we? Oh yes, Young Wayne was awakened by a loud THUMP and then, "What the fuck was that??" We found out later it was a rod being blown out of our engine. In the middle of the desert. In the summer. For those who have not been to Utah, the landscape is, like all deserts (or most, anyway) beautiful and brutal at the same time, especially in the summer, when the temperatures soar and water is literally sucked out of the air around you.
This was in the midst of summer, the heat was full on. Ted Martinez (nickname; T) a local Boise friend/musician (Blind Acceptance, The Grind) who was roadying for us, stuck his thumb out at passing cars until finally an elderly couple with a trailer camper pulled over and Erik and Pat headed with them into Green River, the nearest town. The plan was that they were to see if they could rent a truck there. Off they went and there we sat; Scott, T and Young Wayne. For 4 hours! Or as Young Wayne puts it "...4 fucking hours. We slept & listened to music. I took a shit out in the bushes. Ted saw a lizard. Two cops stopped by in that time. One of them came up to the van. He asked for ID and papers and if we had help on the way.
"You in the military?" he asked Scott.
[Scott]"No."
"Why is your hair so short?"
"Cuz I'm the only smart one." Smart ass! Finally Erik and Pat arrived in a tow truck. It was all they could scrounge up [there were no truck rental places in town]. We road [rode] in the van (me & Pat). [I think we actually were in the van as it was being towed, which was illegal even then, I am sure!].
We had a show set up in Salt Lake City that we had planned to play after our leg with Government Issue and we were making sure to secure that gig. Pat and I had decided to call the guy in Salt Lake City who was putting the show on and see if he could come get us in his Oldsmobile and tow us 200 miles (!). That is what my journal says. Sounds pretty harebrained now, but it is 22 years later! But then I write something I now realize that I took with me throughout all my ownership of many used cars after this (though a less naive version of this thinking); ' ...we've decided to put a new engine in this van since it has a brand new tranny & that would be like a new van that we would know every inch of." Then..."We went to a store, ate bologna sandwhiches in this piece of shit RV park. In fact, this whole town is a piece of shit." Oh, how correct was Young Wayne in his assessment!
Green River in Utah (the river, not the town, obviously). This could as easily be a picture from another planet, no? (Photo from Wikimedia Commons)
You ain't from around here, are ya?
Anyone who has spent any time in a small town in this country and dealing with the locals thinks of the above phrase when going through the experience; 'you aint from around here, are ya?' Usually, this phrase is uttered by the law. And the law was hip to us dirtbag punk rockers the minute they saw our broken down, green Chevy van, like some wounded lizard at the side of the road. We were marked men from that moment and it was obvious as we were towed into town. One of the first things we saw was the sheriff's brown SUV zipping by us. A quick glare was passed through the window as he drove by. It said, 'I'm watchin' you boys.' We took note.
'Right now it is raining like hell (of course) complete with thunder & lightening [lightning]. We are sitting in the van outside the joint that towed us. Oh well, just wait til next year....Well, we all slept in the van outside of Napa Auto (uncomfortably, I might add). It rained off and on. By the time we got ready for bed the whole van was swarming with bloodthirsty mosquitos. They had a fucking feast. I woke up about 6:00 [AM] with bites all over. You could see the swelled bitches trying to get out to fertilize their eggs. I was hating life at this point. Finally got back to sleep...'
The only living creatures that were happy to see us in Green River Utah were mosquitoes
Google Map view of Napa Auto Parts shop and junkyard as it looks today. This is where our van was parked. At the time we were there (1986) the junkyard of cars from various eras spread out over at least a mile square.
Pat and Erik left us again to go see what the situation was. We sat again waiting, looking at the dismal landscape. Napa Auto parts was at the base of a rock mound. Between the mound and the garage was a huge field of endless abandoned cars from every era. It was surreal, I really wish I would have taken photos but had no camera. I will never forget that expanse of cars, various colors and models and years and stages of being eaten slowly by the brutal climate. When Erik and Pat returned they told us the plan. The nearest town that had a truck for rent was Price, UT. I note that Pat and Erik left the next morning to hitchhike to Price '...with one sign that says Price & one that says Green River...'
Boredom and Delirium take Hold...
T and Scott and I passed the time as best we could. We had some of those plastic thermal mugs that had just been invented in the 80's and we took them to gas stations to refill with soda. The days were unbearably hot. We took to hanging out in a little park. The beginnings of begging took hold; 'Right now Ted and I are in this little park writing in our journals, surrounded by pic-nicing families. Pastrami, chicken, chips, Bud Light. We're right next to them starving. I've never been so tempted to beg for food.
"Want a piece of chicken?"
"No, I'm fine, you have it."
Later "there's another piece of chicken. We gotta get rid of it." YOU MORMON FUCKS!!
"Want some salami with bread? This is good." GIMMIE IT. I'LL EAT YOU, ASSHOLES. I'LL EAT YOUR FUCKING CHILDREN, I'M SO HUNGRY!!...No, I wouldn't, but...Life on the road. We've had about everything that could go wrong go wrong. Our faith has been tested time and time again. Our faith is still there, but the money isn't. We have to make the best of this or else make it worse...This town's fucking weird. It's a piece of shit and I hate it. We're going to have to stay here for two more days. There's some Hell's Angels staying at a motel down the street. T and I were commenting on how weird we thought it was that they stayed in motels & took showers. It kind of shatters the old tough biker image. They're gettin old, though. Last night Erik went to a tavern and drank with a couple of em. I wonder where the hell Scott went? He doesn't have a key so when he gets back from wherever the hell he is he is going to be pissed. Oh well.'
The heat and boredom caused me to write sort of a fantastical, Hollywood movie script account of our scenario; '...Then me & T are gonna go party with some Hell's Angels. We'll come back and find the family [the family in the park with all the food] with our bikin bros and kill them all & take their sandwhiches.
[Bikers]"All this death just for salami?"
[T & Wayne]"Hey, it's been a long time since we've eaten good. Life on the road is hard. You guys should know."
[Bikers]"We don't usually do this shit. I got kids you know. A business at home. You guys were just so persuasive. Especially the little Mexican dude. He's a funny mother." T gets pissed at this and decides he's sick of takin shit. So he walks over to the furry biker and stabs him with his own knife. Then we take his hog and pillage the town.
What? Godamn, I'm bored.
The Uranium Motel. No shit.
On our way back from the park, Scott yelled at us from a motel pool across the street. '...so that's where the little snake went.' We swam for 3 or 4 hours. It was heaven. On the way back we saw Pat and Erik in the park we had been in previously. They had actually been there a couple hours, it turned out. They had put the money down on the truck and we were to pick it up on Wednesday, I note, but not what day the entry was. I remember us being there another night and day.
We went to the store and got our 'bologna ration' and went to the park and watched 'hard-bodied cheerleaders...do cheerleader routines.' For, young men on the road are not only hungry, but horny as well. 'There was even 5 of them.'
We showed Erik and Pat the pool and they took a swim, then back to the van. '...on way here we saw an abandoned hotel (Uranium Hotel [it was a Motel, actually), no shit.) Erik & T just went to check it out they found one room open & said it was pretty clean with two 2 beds!! Cool. Sure, it's by the sherriff's office but...We are also going to call [a local burger joint] and order a bunch of burgers and wait for them to throw them away. We'll see. Ahhh, youth!
Sign for the Uranium Motel, Green River Utah. When we found it, it had been closed for years but we snuck in and slept there for a night. Well, not slept, exactly. Every noise and flash of car lights was cause for being nervous. Photo by Chris Barrus, used with permission
The dead, the almost dead,'The Dead' and Burgers for the boys
Some more 'victims' joined us at Napa Auto Party Central, two hippy dudes from Connecticut in a towed VW van who were on their way to see the Grateful Dead. They had already gone through one engine, and their replacement engine had seized up on them, almost as if there were some sort of field that Napa Auto blasted into the desert to kill cars so they could clean up on the wayward wanderers who knew not where they drove.
The two dudes were really nice and had a little gas stove and some food that they had to shed because they were going to hitchhike across the desert. Pat came up with a brilliant scheme to get us some more food; 'Pat called Burger Time and said his name was Don Brown, coach of a track & field team and that one of 'his boys' swore that Green River had the best burgers in the world there. He ordered 15 burgers for 'his boys' & all that remained was for us to wait awhile after closing, go over & check out the dumpster. Burger heaven. We all had burgers dancing in our heads. Erik & T went over to check it out & were stopped by the sheriff. He told them not to be walking around...' (??). After that, he drove up and down the strip. We saw another sheriff [the deputy, possibly] so we were going to have to wait a bit.
Pat and I went over to the dumpsters later. We saw two cars there, so we waited. I recognized one of them I saw earlier in the day that was obviously abandoned. So when only that car was left, we walked over. We had brought our cups in case the sheriff stopped us, we would say we were seeing if the store was open. As we approached the dumpster, we saw movement within. I had better vision and saw they were cats but Pat said, "Woa...what the fuck are those things?"
"They're cats, Bro." We found no burgers, and immediately after leaving, the sheriff drove by!
Young Wayne ponders...'I can safely say we've paid our dues. Next time none of this shit is going to happen. We'll be much better prepared. Now all I've been thinking about (besides food & sex) is going home & having to find a job & prepare for school. Harsh realities everywhere ya turn...'
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