From then on it's downhill to the California coastal town of Carpinteria, a few miles south of President Reagan's summer White House. Why would any sane human undertake this vertical torture? And why in backlands California far from the baddening crowds?

But hire us some fair chamber for the night, / And stalling for the horses, and return / With victual for these men, and let us know.

Recreational users call it special K, and the euphoric, hallucinatory experience it induces the K-hole.

Harry looked rather bulky, you know, Tom, and the slop (policeman) says, 'Hallo, what you got here?' and by [blank] he took us both before the beak. After hearing the slop tell his tale, he says to me: 'What do you know of this man? […]