"In hindsight I can see how naïve I was, how fast the world was changing around me. Hunter S. Thompson wrote how, with the right kind of eyes, you could actually see where the wave of the 60’s broke and ran back on the desert walls near Vegas. Unaware of such a wave, and in search of my own life and identity, I rode my motorcycle across country to Los Angeles."
Laudizen King, "Signposts to Afghanistan
I
came across this picture in an obituary in the Los Angeles Times on
Tuesday, July 24, 2007. The obituary was for Laszlo Kovacs, the
cinematographer on the film 'Easy Rider', and the picture, of course, is
of Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda in a scene from the movie. In the
obituary, Dennis Hopper relates that the movie could not have been made
without Kovacs, and Kovacs tells the story of meeting Hopper after
Hopper had approached him to be the cinematographer for the project.
Although Kovacs was reluctant at first, Hopper went through his vision
of the story and Kovacs realized he was becoming excited over the
prospects of bringing the American landscape to the screen as a main
character of the film. When Hopper was done, everyone fell silent. After
a moment, Kovacs looked at him and asked, “When do we start?” This movie
was an inspiration to me, and it was very important to me at the time.
Today, all these many years later, I can remember back when it was
released in 1969.
I served with the US Army in Vietnam from June 25, 1969, to June 25, 1970. During that period, two seminal American films were released, ‘Easy Rider’ and ‘MASH’. ‘Easy Rider’ was released right after I left for Asia, and ‘MASH’ came out right before I returned home to the states. Thought of as being threatening to the morale and general welfare of the common soldier, neither film was ever shown in an Army theater. When I saw ‘Easy Rider’, I remember how moved I was by the scenes in the American west, how saddened by the senseless deaths in the South. I, too, was looking for America, and dreaming about making the transition from soldier to civilian, and of making my own way in the world.
In June of 1970, I arrived back in my home state of Connecticut for a
30-day leave before reporting to Fort Bragg in North Carolina for the
remainder of my tour. As I was not yet 21 years old, I could not enter
into any contract, this meant I could not buy a car on an installment
loan. I took the 1100 dollars I had to my name and bought a new Honda
450cc motorcycle. The dealer said I could pick out a helmet from those
in stock, I chose one with a flag motif like Peter Fonda wore in ‘Easy
Rider’.
So began my motorcycling years. I had less than 30 days to learn how to
ride a motorcycle, get a motorcycle license, and to be ready to handle
the 700-mile ride down I-95. That trip would take me through New York
City and Washington DC, and on down through Virginia to Fort Bragg. This
trip would mark the beginning of the year and a half I had left on my
military enlistment. I did learn, and I survived, both the journey and
the Army.
It was great to be young and back in the states, and I longed to be out
of the Army. That would come later. In the year and a half that I was at
Fort Bragg, I made several motorcycle trips between North Carolina and
Connecticut, and I toured around most of the South on my Honda.
The Army discharged me in October of 1971 and, to celebrate starting a
new life, I rode my motorcycle across the country to Los Angeles. Now I
could see and feel this America for myself. It felt so fine to be out of
the Army and on my own, to have embarked on this grand adventure. I can
remember how incredible the West seemed to me at the time; it still does
today. So many memories of my journeys and adventures, people met, and
people lost. Yes, I was young and naïve and perhaps searching for
something that could not be found, but the memories of it linger and
shine over those days of newfound freedom.
I have this one grainy black and white of my bike that was taken in
North Carolina just before leaving the Army. It has a slightly oversize
new tire for the upcoming trip, and on the front, a new pair of 6-inch
fork extensions sit below a small pair of “Z” handlebars. On the rear of
the seat sits my flag helmet. I was proud of that bike, for two years it
was my best friend, and it never let me down. So this is my riding
genesis. In the Riding Out link, I plan to serialize my riding
adventures and experiences during the period beginning with my Army
discharge until I returned to the northeast and went to college. I also
hope to feature the words and pictures of others, to share their stories
and emotions, both old and new. What a long great ride it has been.
Thank you, Laszlo; and thank you, Peter and Dennis, for sharing and
shaping the days of my youth.