HASH CHRONICLES Part I: I Know What I Know

In the autumn of 1966, a nineteen-year-old from El Segundo, California boarded a Loftleiðir flight at JFK — the Hippie Express, they called it — bound for Glasgow, the least expensive route to Europe. He had his brother beside him, a vague plan, and no particular intention of breaking any laws.

That came later.

His brother went his own way at Ostend, and from there the road was his alone — weeks through France, Spain, and North Africa, equal parts innocence, recklessness, and luck. There was a Dutch mystic who appeared in southern Spain and drew him to the mountains outside Tétouan, where they were introduced to Samir — a fourteen-year-old Moroccan guide who knew things no fourteen-year-old should

 know. There were borders, buses, desert roads, and at least one decision that could have ended everything.

The delay in writing this story wasn’t lack of time. It was the weight of exposure.

Sixty years later, galen easton—retired pharmacist, Culver Military Academy Class of '65—finally put it down.

HASH CHRONICLES, Part I: I Know What I Know is the first volume of a two-part memoir. It is specific. unhurried, and mostly true.