I ran away and joined the Circus... PART II

April 14

We entered the islands interior, travelling through a never ending corridor of trees and thick brush. As darkness fell, wolves and mountain lions appeared like ghosts, eyes red and wild, challenging our headlights.

Aside from the threat of being eaten, it's beautiful here at the northern edge of Vancouver Island. Nothing but scenic coastal areas, mountainous island landscapes, swimming areas, and plenty of interesting hikes here at Port Hardy. Just beneath it's beauty though, is a dark side.

Last night a group of local girls came around our campsite, offering sexual favors in return for some cash, so they could go buy hard drugs to party with the carnies. Drug addiction is of major concern here, and it's common for users to use a public bathroom, and emerge strung out.

I'm beginning to see exactly what sort of lifestyle a carnie leads. A magical one covered in Angel dust, where Meth puts everything on fast forward, and moods are dulled with Percocet. Getting drunk is not only a weekend thing, it's daily and brings violence with it. I've seen carnies drink booze from water bottles during ride setup. My companions tell me of line snorting cocaine parties. Some workers even pay for a hotel room complete with escort, while others get cheap favors from locals seeking a high.

In spite of this... casual spirit, management told my companions and I not to tell anyone Steve was gay. The majority of the Carnival workers, hired help from Jamaica, would beat the hell outta him. It's happened in the past with others. Perhaps Steve shouldn't wear his knee high biker boots, spirit hood, or talk about drag anymore... Parading your lifestyle is fun, but getting your head bashed in, stains the dress.

After the Port Hardy show, we moved onto Campbell river, another beautiful seaside town. Before the show started, we we're hiking Elk Falls Provincial Park, to check out the falls from it's massive suspension bridge. There in the parking lot, we came across a jacked up Mitsubishi minivan with a winch and radiator guard. It looked awesome, but even better than that, it was camperized.

As I pointed my camera towards the windshield, the side door slide open! A guy and his girlfriend were chill'n in the back. Early 20's, young, athletic and good looking. They we're probably getting down, till I killed the mood.

"Lot's of people take pictures", he said, obviously basking in the attention.

"Can I see what you've done with it inside?" Unable to contain my interest.

"Oh for sure, be my guest!" He said through a wide grin.

Inside, on a wooden frame, was a camping mat and sleeping bag. Underneath were clear storage bins for clothes and shoes. Shelving on the side held various day to day items. At the rear of the van, a pull out drawer, containing the kitchen, complete with a propane stove, pots, spices and other food stuffs.

"I'm living in it for the summer, when I work Whistler as a trail guide." He said.

"Ya, he's super proud of it." Chimed in his girlfriend.

This isn't the first time I've seen young couples like this, full of energy with hopeful glowing eyes. Seeing people living like that, reminds me there are others out there too, also trying to live differently. It inspires me to keep trying.

April 26

Lately I've realized money for land just isn't in the cards right now. Campbell Rivers payout doesn't even bring me a little bit closer. We've all experienced a horrible let down, and aren't taking it well. Steve, does random guys in bathroom stalls. Victoria pops Percocet and takes wine into movie theatres. As for myself, sightseeing, hikes, and tonnes of junk food ease the pain.

Our next show is in Duncan, but before we headed there I called an RV Park and tried to make a reservation.

"Hey there, do you have a spot for the week?" I asked.

"Yes, a couple of spaces. How many adults and children? Any pets?" She inquired.

"Perfect! It's just 3 adults." I answered.

"There's no room." She said. Click.

Blocking my outgoing numbers identity, I called again to get an explanation.

"Hello." She answered.

"It's me again. Don't hang up! I'm just curious why we can't stay there." I asked.

There was a pause...

"We used to get non-family types coming through. Real sketchy people, doing drugs and making trouble. Homeless transients were wrecking business and other tenants didn't want to stay. Now we only let married couples or families stay here." She explained.

Duncan with it's Mediterranean Maritime climate is Canada's warmest area year round. This has produced an on going problem with squatters. A tarp city once stretched several city blocks along the river banks, full of residents, until the Mayor had them evicted a few short weeks before our arrival.

I've heard the homeless issue was originally exacerbated by the Mayor of Vancouver. Each undesirable, was given $500 and a ferry ticket to Vancouver island. All that remains of that exodus now, around the silent campfires are the left overs, blankets, clothes and sleeping bags litter the ground from a thrown away people.

Even earlier than that, Hallelujah Point at Vancouver was inhabited by various groups since the 1860's. Homes were all along the shoreline. Then in 1888, Stanley Park opened and the Chinese were the first to be kicked out. The remaining residents were then evicted in 1931, followed by the departure of the last squatter in 1957.

Conspiring groups, like Government take from whomever they choose, regardless of who was there first. The model for civilization is, control the land, resources, and then demonize anyone who resists. Homeless are in effect a loud protest to this evil. If there should be a governing group, it's purpose must be to keep citizens safe from each other, and ensure no person or group has an excess of land or power. Additionally, land must be set aside so that generations of people can live and sustain themselves freely.

The southern end of Vancouver island is a good example of how land distribution should not be. Much of the land is locked up in vineyards, farms and private acreages. Each of these estate like properties span many acres of land, far beyond the need of any individual or family. We as a culture allow this accumulation, and by extension the wealth laws protecting it, because as individuals we ourselves want to escape poverty and rise above our neighbor.

Until this changes, wanderers like ourselves must seek out land for rent. We setup camp just outside Victoria city limits in a wooded area, called Gold River campground. The significant tree coverage here blocks out all light, except for the stars. The darkness used to scare me camping as a child. Now I feel hidden and free from the busy world. The others hate it. There's no coffee shops to sit in all day long and use WiFi. I think they're experiencing withdrawal, and have gone so far as to walk a few kilometers to a coffee shop.

I on the other hand, went to the Buchart Gardens for the day. Over 100 years ago it was a limestone quarry. When it was used up, the wife of the owner thought it looked ugly, and brought plants in from all over the world to beautify it. The Gardens consist of hundreds of acres of roses, tulips, topiaries, shrubs, and trees. Architecture, ranging from Japanese, Mediterranean, European and Italian structures, were built to create each corner of the world. Mining reclamation policies should take notes from Mrs. Buchart!

May 22

On our way to the Alberta leg of our tour, we stopped at Wal-Mart, well after midnight, near Salmon Arm. A sign said, "No over night parking". Too tired to keep driving, we slept there anyway. In the morning there was a notice on the windshield. Overnighting at Walmart used to be allowed for decades. Nowadays local RV's parks, and possibly Hotels are imposing an RV/Hotel endorsed bylaw that prevents Wal-Mart from entertaining guests.

At Grande Prairie, Alberta, we stayed on the lot with the carnies. Something I'd avoided the whole trip. In hindsight, distance was best. Victoria didn't shower, sleep or hardly eat anything. She drank and did drugs for 4 days, partying every night with the carnies and practically fell asleep painting faces. Then she'd crash for several hours during a show day.

At multiple times she hallucinated, heard things, had an irregular heart beat, and whenever she spoke to me, twitched and rapidly talked vacantly in my general direction. I learned later she had a previous drug issue years earlier, and the carnie influence had brought it out.

As if that wasn't enough stress for me, Steve's money belt was stolen. Then the Carnival boss's wife swore up a storm in his face, when he reported it, and screamed for us to not come to the Edmonton show. Our numbers have been lower than we expected, and the Carnival is even less pleased. They could easily give up our spots to other vendors. I feel we're on borrowed time.

We went to Edmonton anyway, and my first day made $35, which remember gets split 3 ways. Second day, it poured rain, made $20, which again... basically amounts to zero. No one on the midway is making money either! One booth made a staggering $45 on a Friday night in a city of over a million! We should be netting $1500 dollars a day, each!

Up until this point I'd accepted the low income situation, as a paid vacation. After adding up all the money I've made since March, and comparing it to full-time work, it came to $7/hr. However, I work 10 hrs a day usually. So really, I've made $2.50/hrs the last 3 months. Time to consider other options!

June 13

Carnie lifers have been quitting at almost every show now. Clearly the industry is dying. I quietly contemplated finishing out the 29 remaining shows. Except, if things have been steadily getting worse financially, it's unlikely to get better. This trip has shaped out never to be about money. It was to show me, that it doesn't matter which direction I go, it will be difficult to gain self-reliance no matter what path I'm on. I pulled the plug.

I'm hoping to make at least $5 grand within my final 3 shows, starting with our next at Fort McMurry. It's a big oil town, where money has been tossed around like water. Only for me it wasn't, not since the NDP has placed sanctions and new regulations on the oil industry, triggering thousands of lay offs.

Things are getting worse. Both Victoria and Steve are frequently leaving their booths for longer periods of time. Today Steve asked me how much a bus ticket home was. Victoria and I are certain he will simply disappear.

June 20 – Wainwright

Lightning, thunder, heavy rain, and winds up to 80 km/hr rocked our trailer violently through the night. The wind hurled rain against the siding like buckets of gravel. It was deafening, and the fear of a lightning strike was high, so I retracted the stabilizer legs to prevent electrocution. An hour later the lightning lessened, and I put the legs back down to keep us from tipping over.

I expected at any moment to be struck by a blown apart shopping cart shelter, large hail, or see a tornado forming over head. I was nervous the whole time, as there really was nowhere for us to go! My mind raced with survival options, and settled on using a hammer to smash into Wal-mart, or to simply ram the van through the front doors, and take shelter in the bathroom.

After our night of terror, the Carnival owner delayed setup by several hours, fearing a tornado was a threat. My crew and I left to evade any coming destruction. Our ears locked on the radio for warnings, but there were none. Locals gave me strange looks when I asked about a Tornado.

After an hour of staying within a hundred feet of our van, no evidence of impending death ever developed, just puffy white clouds and blue sky. We went back to the Carnival. Workers were busily constructing rides, setting up booths and hanging Stuffies. A drug fueled paranoid delusion was all the Tornado ever was for the owner!

There was no money for us in Wainwright. Victoria, Steve and I were shocked to discover, carnies get a 25% commission. One booth made $2000 on a slow rainy day, and a carnies cut of that, $500. Victoria maybe made $300 per week since we hit Alberta! She quit, took a job with the Carnival, and moved out of our trailer that day.

Our final Show, the Ponoka Stampede. Riders come from as far away as Texas to compete. Fields of RVs and horse trailers multiply the towns population 10 fold. It's the biggest rodeo around, only second to the Calgary Stampede. If money was to be made, this was it!

Steve made $100 his first day... it should have been $1000. I made $10. Burning $300 dollars on raffle tickets had better odds at that point. Filling out each ticket made me feel like I could win the $3000 prize. There were only 1500 tickets printed, so the chances were good.

I think the lack of green has finally gotten to everyone. The 'Hurricane' operator chased a fellow carnie with a metal pipe, for using his spray bottle to clean a ride. This same guy had his girlfriend leave him 3 weeks earlier for not being 'nice' to her... or ya know, beating her with a flashlight. He was fired.

July 4

The morning after our final day in Ponoka, Steve and I went to pack up our booths. On the way we chatted idly about work, reflecting on the lack of it, and what we might do back home. As we passed a parked cargo van, we noticed some native dude in the back, drinking coffee. At this point in our journey I'd come to expect anything. How crazy would it be if he came after us? Within moments of that thought, I heard a commotion, and turned to see the guy stumble out. Boy that would be so crazy if he ran after us... I turned again to the sound of running.

He cut us off and yelled, "Who's not working now! $%^$#. Who's not working now!". Over and over in our faces.

All I could think, it's too early for this, I haven't had breakfast. Just go away! If there was a time in my life that I was about to be stabbed, now was it. 6 ft and 200 lbs of drugged out crazy anger was barking in my face. His outburst made no sense, and I simply couldn't be bothered. A plan formed in my mind to rid us of him.

Flatly, Steve said, "we weren't talking about you, we work for the Carnival."

I just started walking away. Yup that was the plan, just walk away. He followed us, screaming for a whole block. I confused him, sending Steve across the street, while I doubled back. There were lots of people crossing the street, so I wasn't worried about Steve, as I headed back to move our trailer, which was painfully near psychos van. Thankfully nothing else schizophrenic happened.

Out there working the Carnival, traveling from town to town, countless people passed before me, crowding around booths and rides. Individuals gave way to a generic faceless representation of the human race, all seeking the same short term thrills. It really drove home the insignificance of my own life, of anybody's.

The Carnival pattern isn't that much different from our daily living. We impart our efforts for things like clothes, luxury items, or entertainment. All of which are inflated well beyond their actual cost, much like the colorful Stuffies at the Carnival. You're all too willing to spend $10 on a 50 cent prize, because everyone else is getting a bright shiny "look at me mortgage" too. Social pressure and even law compels us to do things we would rather not.

The Government 'lawfully' takes up to 50% of earnings, and we go along with it, because as a society we've decided it's okay to be robbed, if done politely. We pay greed fueled prices for a place to live and gas to get us around, yet do nothing about it, but complain. Since birth we have been raised to participate in this paradigm, forced until we accept it and willingly contribute to the madness.

It's human nature to be greedy, to control others, and take from the weak. So as long as we're human, fighting the system is impossible. For thousands of years the temptation of centralized power, wealth accumulation and corruption has reached all corners of the globe. We have always been the obstacle to an off-grid peaceful and fulfilling existence.