Key to the Highway

When I was fourteen a series of family tragedies rocked my adolescent world to its very essence. For reasons known only to some higher power, my only brother and both parents were taken during a bleak three year period from 1967 to 1969. In my logical mind I knew it was a terribly misguided notion, but try as I may, I could never shake off my profound sense of abandonment; or the unrelenting rage of being left alone in the world so young. Times were hard and the temptation to take to the open road and leave all the strife behind began to seem like an extremely viable option. At the tender age of sixteen, I joined the ranks of a wandering subculture of restless misfits who were roaming around North America desperately searching for something to believe in. The virtual plethora of wild and woolly experiences that ensued had such a profound effect upon my soul, that I promised myself that someday I would sit down and attempt to document this life-altering experience.