Just because....

The following story is an excerpt written by my dear friend and brother, Papabear Rainbow, also known as Bryce Geigle.  Papabear passed on to the Spirit in the Sky last October, 2007. He was returning to the rainbow family tribe once again in Wyoming, and indeed he did. This time he joined the rest of the family waiting for him in eternity.

Raven and I met Papabear at the 1997 Ochoco National Forest Oregon Annual rainbow gathering. The Medicine Wheel Gatherings formed because of this gathering and because of this Land of the Sacred Red Willow in particular. Our history together began there. In honor, I share this first of Papabear's stories as he wrote them. They can be found all over the internet at a.g.r. which means "alternate gathering rainbow".

In Utah, Papabear saw me on the trail near Welcome Home, and began calling "Nurse! Nurse! Is there a nurse anywhere?" I heard the voice say these words a couple times before it registered in my mind that Papabear was calling me from just down the road. Just to clarify a little bit, we worked Mash C.A.L.M. together at the Oregon 97 gathering, and again on occasion. It was an appellation of love and respect. I sure was happy to see him that year.

Out of love and respect for Papabear Rainbow, I am attempting to honor his wish that his folk stories be preserved and passed on.

I noticed a faint, pungent odor as I awoke from a few hours of
slumber. "Yes," I thought, "the odor of the plant genus sativa."
Music reached my ears as I shook off the sleep, the music of
heartbeat drumming echoed off the trees that surrounded my
camp.The year was 1997, the meadow was located in the Ochoco
National Forest, in the West-Central area of Oregon. This was
the 26th Annual Gathering of the Tribes, and I had come home
after a decade of life changing events, coming from A camp to
the focalizer of the herbal MASH Unit located in Bus Village,
giving back to instead of taking from the Gathering and the
people.
My story begins in Iowa, in 1968, in a small farm town close to
the Mississippi River, in cornfield country. A friend of mine
turned me on to a drug called DMT, and although I did not know
it at the time, I was on a path to becoming part of a
counterculture. I soon discovered the music scene, and at the
age of 14, I ran away from home and entered the realms of later
day Haight-Ashbury, a scene that had died down, and soon I went
on a tour of the west coast, eventually stealing a car, and
ending up in the Army, under 18, and lost in a war I did not
understand. By 1973, I was a heroin addict, and on the day that
Saigon fell, April 28th, 1975, I was discharged from the Army,
with a purple heart, pins in my ankles and knees, and, I would
find out years later, a dose of Agent Orange. While processing
out of the Army in Ft. Dix, New Jersey, I met a hippie by the
name of Alabama, and he took me to Arkansas, to my first Rainbow
Gathering, and I partied so hard, I do not remember a lot of it,
but I had a good time, and the seed was planted.
I travelled from Arkansas to Washington, where I attended a
small gathering in a place called Dinosaur Valley (gronk!!!),
and it was here that I knew that I was to become one of the
wandering nomads and one of the peoples that travelled each year
to the Gathering of the Tribes.
My exposure to Rainbow Life began at this place called Dinosaur
Valley, and began to blossom as I rode the rails up and down
the West Coast, at the fruit orchards, jungles, hot springs,
winter camps in the desert, ant at the national gatherings that
I attended. I began to long for the nomadic life, but had no
idea on how to accomplish it. Then I met an Indian lady named
Little Bit, and she taught me how to survive on the road,and for
the next 6 years, we travelled all around, eventually ending up
living on an island by Raccoon Key, outside of Key West, where I
took up working on shrimp boats to keep us high and living well.
Part II coming next.
papabear