30 Years in a Housetruck

Page Eleven: Settling In

After getting the quick tour of the town, the next order of business was to get our trucks unloaded. Both Woodley and I had packed them nearly full of household belongings, building materials for the conversion to housetrucks and a lot of tools and equipment for Kim 's "machine shop", which he was planning on putting together in the incomplete shed building. I hauled a large and heavy arc welder, and Woodley had moved acetylene and oxygen tanks for the gas welder Kim had purchased in L.A. In addition to some of the furniture I brought along, I had a gas stove, RV refrigerator and water heater, windows and doors and other materials. Most of this went into the shop building next to the truck, which needed only a door and some plywood to be enclosed and secure.

Jeep had wired the shop for power, but it didn't work correctly, so I figured out his wiring mistakes and ran an extension cord to my truck to run some lights and the electric blanket on my bed, as I had no other source for heat in the truck yet. Woodley was parked across the gravel road next to the pump shed that served Kim's rental trailer, so he was able to get power there for the same purposes.

We spent a few days exploring the properties, and getting to know the neighborhood. Kim's rental property was quite interesting, the owner had begun building an A-frame house on the lot, but it had burned down during the construction, so the yard was strewn with assorted building materials, car parts, appliances, fasteners, and a lot of miscellaneous junk. Of course, we were "forbidden" by Kim to touch any of it, which made it all that much more attractive. There were several derelict cars and trucks on the property, mostly so overgrown with berry vines that they were unapproachable.

There was a low platform in a tree up the lot from the trailer, a perfect place for us to retreat to for safety breaks when we didn't want anyone to know where we were or what we were doing. There was also a rope swing on the lower part of the property, tied way off the ground on the limb of an ancient tree.

As the days went by, we began clearing a circular area of berry vines and rocks, put up some fencing and began turning the soil to create a large garden area. Old stable stalls on Jeep's property were mucked out for composted straw and manure.

Saturday nights, the three of us would pile into the front of Kim's 1954 Chevy pickup truck and go into town to Max's Tavern on 13th street to drink some beers and listen to live music (frequently folk or bluegrass).

When we weren't being kept busy by Kim or Jeep doing some chores around the properties, Woodley and I would work on our trucks. He was painting the interior of his step van, and I installed an operable vent in the roof above the sleeping loft and began installing some wiring to run proper lighting.

I transfered the open claim for unemployment that I had from California, and the checks started coming in, and we both registered for food stamps, so there was income and groceries. The arrangement for parking our trucks on the properties was barter for our labor, so the rent was covered.

About all that was missing was having my own car, as Kim's truck was fairly unreliable and wasn't always available for us to use when we needed to go somewhere. Mostly, I ended up riding along with whoever was going into town. Woodley would frequently use his step van as basic transportation. Getting my car up to Oregon was going to involve a trip back to LA, one that I wasn't sure how to arrange. At least for a while.

One day in May, Woodley and I returned from a trip to the grocery store and found a familiar Buick with California license plates in Kim's driveway. It was TMAX's parents, Chick and Connie, who were on their way to Reno, and for whatever reason, had made a detour to Eugene. They offered to give me a ride back to LA to pick up my car, but I had to leave with them that afternoon, as soon as possible in fact.

I stuffed some clothes, my car keys and a small bit of money into my Boy Scout backpack, bundled up my sleeping bag, gave Woodley instructions on how to feed my Guinea Pig, and set off for my trip southward.

Our first overnight was in Bend, where the motel owner asked Chick where he had picked up the hitchhiker (me).

Then we were in Reno. I don't gamble, and so I was standing around, being bored and feeling alienated in some casino while Connie fed the slots when some elderly woman I never saw before ran up, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me over to one of the machines. "Here, Honey" she said- thrusting a handful of nickels at me, "This machine is paying, but I have to leave", which she did.

“WTF?” was my first reaction, but I decided to play out the nickels she had left me and then get back to the important business of being bored that she had interrupted. It didn't take very long to figure out that the machine I had inherited was defective. If you didn't pull the handle very hard, only two of the disks would spin. After getting the sticky disk set on a paying number, it was fairly easy to keep the machine paying out almost every play. Soon I had nickels spilling off the counter and all over the floor. The drinks waitress would walk by every couple of minutes, muttering "Still winning?", and the pit boss (shift floor manager) made a couple of fly-bys, eyeing me suspiciously.

Eventually, I hit a jackpot, but despite the ringing bells and flashing lights, no nickels came out of the chute. I called the waitress over to collect my jackpot. The pit boss came by and told me that the machine was out of money. "Well, fill it up again, I'm on a roll" I told him. Nope, this machine is broken, we're taking it out of service, and they slapped a canvas bag over it, and invited me to play another machine.

I had so many nickels that the waitress had to go to the bar and get me a bunch of paper cups so I could collect them all and take them to be exchanged for paper money. I ended up making $40 (that's 800 nickels, BTW).

I don't remember if we stayed in Reno or moved on, but Connie was not very happy that I had cashed in so well at the casino. I think she might have lost a little while we were there…

Next overnight I recall was Bishop, California. It was a pretty warm night, and I had little interest in the TV in the motel room, so I sat on the hood of the Buick in the motel parking lot, sipping a soda and watching the night life on Main street.