Dunites: Hippies Before Hippies

It was 1935 and the country was in a riveting time. I was painting and traveling around California thinking ideals and freedom. The problem is, I kept running into people that were so formal and restrictive in their thoughts and expressions. Discussions filled with surface topics that brought no inspiration and had me feeling blue like a sad song coming from the south. I was seeking much more than simple conversations and rules set up by the state and federal government. I was on a mission to find a place where I can do my art, explore nature and find people with a different outlook on America and the world. Here is a story about a time I was hitchhiking near San Luis Obispo, CA.

After an adventurous week of camping and dreaming in Big Sur, I was heading to Hollywood. There were a lot of really fascinating things going on down there and I wanted to see what it was all about. I think they were calling it the Golden Age of the town. It was a lot of these crafty people expressing themselves artistically through these motion pictures. They were just on a different trip than me. Fame, art and fortune seemed to be the draw and desire. Other than the art part, these other pursuits were the last things I was contemplating on my path to enlightenment and free thinking.

It was a very long and strenuous day walking down Hwy 101 in the scorching sun. I just got through Paso Robles where the heat was unbearable. Interesting enough, with the cool nights, it wasn’t too bad when I laid to rest for a few hrs. What a temperature shift. As I got a little past San Luis Obispo, I took a route more towards the ocean. This revitalizing breeze kept my body and limbs cool. By that time, my arm was exhausted from the famous arm out thumb up method. I haven’t had any luck for the last couple days so I began to lose hope in a break from walking. There were a lot of fascinating mind explorations going on and even hallucinations as I continued to walk with little rest. Just as I was ready to throw in the towel and find another place to relax, I suddenly felt this swirling energy that I have not felt since in Sedona, Arizona last year. What was going on all of the sudden? I  was overwhelmed with these lively waves of force. After I gathered myself, I soon heard an automobile pulling up behind me and slowing down right next to me. He rolled down his window and this long haired gentleman asked, “Where you headed?”

Incredibly relieved to get off my feet, I leaned over the car door and told him Hollywood. He had this glorious bright, wise-looking aura and he said, “don’t worry, I have a better place to go.” While traveling around the country, a car was not on my objective plan. Cars represented man’s development of civilization and advancement. Walking worked for me and kept me on my path of living in the present. Just by his look and my feeling inside, I knew this was something that was meant to be. As he started driving, a discussion started on creative thought and artistic influence on society as a whole. This began to seem like a surreal and mystic experience I just came upon

After swiftly and cheerfully cruising along in the crisp and exhilarating Central Coast air, my new friend suddenly took this abrupt, sharp right turn onto this clearly nonexistent road of dirt and sand. He pushed the pedal to the floor for another 5 minutes, flying down this almost invisible trail with dust beginning to fill up my dry mouth and flaring nostrils. I could hardly breathe and started aggressively coughing like a lifelong smoker. After holding on for my dear life, he slammed on the brakes and with a full turn of the wheel, he did a complete donut, skidding out, leaving tracks from his new yellow 1935 Ford Model 48 Convertible. Smiling, he told me to grab my stuff and let’s go. From his illuminating glow, I was still in utter awe of this mind-bending experience. As I began to exit the vehicle, I started feeling that euphoric vortex energy from earlier, so I knew it was time to start using these sore feet again.

“Here we go,” I manically thought. We started walking, then hiking through these grand and mystical rolling sand dunes. The sun was bright like a flood light, so I’m glad I had my Ray-Bans that were not released to the public yet. The warmth was pleasant and with the ocean breeze and light on and off winds, we were at the ideal temperature. The air tasted good it was so fresh. Although, I did have sand blowing in my mouth again. It did take a little bit away from this elevated experience that was happening around me. As I looked ahead, there were a variety of these colorful and stunning succulents spread across the unique landscape. Some of them had these delightful flowers reaching out to the bright blue sky. They were all over the place and blended with the dunes magically. It seemed like we were in another world, appearing to go on forever.

Leading up to this, I felt I was in decently good shape, but these sand hills started to get to us. Well, maybe just me. You could tell that my friend was in the zone by the look in his bright green eyes. Sweating and breathing hard, I exhaustedly asked him, “Are we almost there?” “Almost,” he confidently smiled. What a relief I was thinking after I started to get apprehensive about his intentions a little bit. Was this guy taking me out to slice me up and bury me in the sand for no one to find? With a sudden deep rush in my body, I started to doubt my unthought-out decision.

After moving on from those distracting and disturbing thoughts, I thought It would be best to just go with the flow. It was a visible, magnetizing energy I was following, so it had to lead somewhere remarkable. It’s now been 30 minutes of hiking and sliding down these steep dunes. I felt my second wind coming on and also felt a calm peace just run through my body. After another 5 minutes or so, I suddenly could taste, feel and see the rumbling ocean. It was so exhilarating to see after not being at the beach since Big Sur. As we moved towards the water, I suddenly heard a soft whisper, “You are here.” I paused, looked around and then yelled to my friend, “What the hell was that?” “What are you talking about? You’ve been worried this whole time, just shut up and trust me!” he shockingly shouted back at me. What was I to think? I soon realized that there may be no turning back after that one.

After the possibly divine words in the air, I knew something unusual was going on. All of the sudden these dark clouds began hovering above us and a bright ray of sunshine was breaking through the cloud cover. It looked like God was showing us where we needed to go. Near the end of the rays we saw smoke pillowing. What was really going on here? My new buddy said, “Come on.” so we went closer. I saw a small house-like structure that took me for a real loop. He said it was called Moy Mell. The “Meadow of Honey” in Gaelic. I realized again that we were in some sort of sublime place by the energy that would not dissipate. From a distance, there was a naked man with long hair and a very long beard. He appeared like a ghost. With his glow, you could feel his presence. I finally found where the smoke was coming from. Around a blazing camp fire, I saw this Bohemian looking crew drinking wine, dancing and from what it looked like, were in some extremely deep conversations. You could almost feel their connection from a distance. “Those are the Dunites.”

While we moved closer to the group, this long-haired skinny gentleman with beads around his neck and wrists, ran up to us and said, “Dannyboy!” Well, now I finally know my guy’s name. “Hello, I’m Skip.” I reached out my hand to shake his, but he insisted on a big warm and smiling hug. I was cool with that. I was invited by Dannyboy to sit down next to him. He looked across the fire and said, “That is Gavin Arthur. He is the organizing and leading member of this dune community. He made it their own utopian off-grid home.” “Wowzerz!” I was baffled. On the other side of me, I introduced myself to this cool looking fellow. “Hello, my name is Skip.” He said his name was John and he was a writer. He had a firm handshake. He started talking about a story he was writing about two traveling ranch workers living a life together in California. Of Mice and Men he was going to call it. He then told me he wrote a book called Tortilla Flats. “Holy shit, it was John Steinbeck!”

As the fire crackled, John and I talked about another book he was thinking about writing. He was going to call it, The Grapes of Wrath. It sounded fascinating. “What a mind.” I thought. As we continued to joke around, this bearded gentleman walked up and handed me a bottle of wine and gave me the nod to take a swig. He said his name was Ansel and he was a photographer. With the bottle in my left hand, I reached out and shook his right. “I’m Skip, nice to meet you.” After the firm handshake, I looked for the wine label but it only had a handwritten 1932 BV Cab Napa on it. It was young but delicious. I took another chug and passed it to John. Ansel then sat down next to him and started talking to us about the inspiration he has gotten by taking pictures of the dunes. “The energy here is like nothing else. I love visiting.” I turned back around to talk with Dannyboy who now had his own bottle. “I just talked to Arthur. Do you like it here? If so, you can stay and live with them if you want.” It took me two and a half seconds and a big deep breath and I said, “I’m in.”

After three hours of heavy drinking with John and Ansel, I was beyond shit-faced. Things were getting blurry, so I needed to get up, walk around and try to think about the reality of my life-changing manic decision. I grabbed my backpack and instantly started stumbling around falling a few times to the sandy floor. Dannyboy saw me struggling and got up to let me know that I could sleep in the sand tonight and they would get me situated in the morning. I instantly dropped and began looking at the crystal clear sky with stars that looked like they were in a 3rd dimension. All of the sudden time stopped and I tuned in to nature, having a profound moment feeling one with everything around me. It was seconds later that I went back to some serious spinning. It looked like a whirlwind of stars funneling around me that just wouldn’t stop. I quickly passed out and right when I fell asleep, I woke up to the hot sun, seagulls chatting and the thrilling ocean sounds and smells. I could see the camp fire where everyone was having breakfast and coffee. I looked at my watch and it was 10 hours later. “What happened last night?” I thought. I then looked around again feeling recharged and saw their were a bunch of people in the water swimming and gathering clams. I was in another land. I then decided to take my shirt, pants and underwear off and ran towards the ocean and dove into the water.

When I got out of the brisk water, the sun was shining bright and hitting me right in my bloodshot eyes. I felt completely refreshed helping my brutal hangover from going so big last night. I dried off from the warmth and walked up to the fire pit glad to see some of the people I kind of remember meeting last night. Everyone looked a little hung over. “Hey Skip, how was the water?” asked John while holding a magazine. “It was wonderful.” I joyously replied. “So how’s it going, I heard you are staying?” John grinned. “I guess so.” and I smiled with excitement. “Where did you get the mag?” I curiously asked. “This is the Dune Forum. It’s your magazine that just went under last year. They produced it here and printed in San Francisco.” “What?” I spit out in disbelief. “Ya, they wrote about art, politics, science, among other things. It’s a trip! They were trying to be the New Yorker of the West.” I was blown away. As I started realizing what I just committed to, I now knew this was bigger than I thought. It did feel right and I soon accepted I was home now. The End