This happened about '73. I was driving to Tahoe (via Reno) from SoCal and picked up this 18-year old backpack hitchiker outside of San Berdoo. We start talking. He's headed back home to Canada. A few weeks earlier he and his friends had been sitting around bemoaning the dearth of weed. So they made a plan, pooled all their $$ (about $50), and drew straws. He won. So get this: he hitchiked from Canada to Guatamala, bought a kilo of weed for $15, and was headed home, with a kilo of weed in his backpack. I asked him "How's the weed?" He says "Let's find out", reaches into his pack, unwraps the kilo slightly (packed in newpaper), breaks off a small bit and rolls one up. 5 hours later we're in Bishop CA. and I realized I had had the same tape on the entire time, so stoned I didn't even notice. We pulled off the 395 onto a side street and crash in the back of my van. In the morning we get ready to leave and I noticed I had parked across the street from the Bishop P.D., and there was a big fat roach sitting on the dash. Anyway I dropped him off in Reno and continued on my way. I hope he made it ok.
after looking into it, I was refering to the mystery of the creaking door....it involved the wind and the branches from the Eucalyptus trees. A simple search straightened me out
