Nobel Poor No More The Gladiator cruises down US 395 into Alturus, California for fuel and much needed ice in the coolers. Brook has things under control, my presence will only muddy the decision making process. Fine by me, dire situations are a foot… Little Debbie coffers are empty and the convenience store is not an approved…

Oregon Route 31 Napping at 60 mph in a 75 mph zone I am a passenger, and I ride and I ride… Iggy Pop is the bare chested preacher to a congregation of neurotic suburbanites cruising over the open road. Oh the passenger/He rides and he rides/He looks through his window/What does he see? He…

Oregon Trail When mother calls, you should go. When the open road calls, you gotta go. The 1995 Chevy Gladiator is loaded with urbanite creature comforts needed to camp across the descending desert ecosystems. I am a 250 pound fly on the wall witnessing Brook and Teresa’s execution of well-organized vanning. Coolers of Tupperware, Rubbermaid…

The lizard runs amuck no more  Tase that scaly bug eating nuisance! Sic the professionals on him. Three days in the rear captain seat of Brook Brayman’s 1995 Chevy Gladiator luxury van to enjoy great company, America’s western countryside, and to battle an anxiety that has had liberty for far to many years. My long time…

The distant landscape gazes the same vistas the nomadic tribes navigated for thousands of years. Following the herds and seasons with no ownership to the lands or the times. Chinook, Paiute, Ute, and Navajo were earth’s stewards. John C. Fremont sketched the land’s curves… Manifest Destiny abhorred the unknown. Mountain ranges with jagged ridges line the…

This is northern Nevada country. The gubment dollar and vice have full control; bomb lockers and procurable women. Rebel pride is not appreciated in these here parts; This be the wolf land>>>> Filthy pack animals. Hawthorne, Nevada… The U.S. Marines are the tip of the spear, and Hawthorne is where they go to get the boom, boom….

The greatest American novel won’t come from an aisle seat on the cattle cars of the sky >>>>>> I gotta have windshield time. Fear of pedophiles in America’s restrooms, consumer debt on the rise thanks to Ikea, and the real prospect of Bill Clinton untethered in the White House has pushed me to the open…

Give him freedom, give me a keyboard, and we’ll poke the bear!  Let the fun begin! As promised in the finale to No Fat Jokes Please we are coming back strong with an untether rag. If Western civilization is on the verge of moral collapse,  the Mormon and the Madman preordered front row tickets to the show. Achieving ODJ is the lifelong marination in fermented tidal pools left…