Spud Hilton takes us on a journey with the Hippie Bus:
It's 5 a.m. and my left leg is wedged irretrievably between a couple of Brits, who are spooning in somnolent bliss as our strangely loaded bus trundles through the Sierra foothills.Posted by James Zellmer at August 24, 2004 12:20 AM | Subscribe to this site via RSS:Everywhere are bodies on mattresses -- a tangle of blurry-eyed Brits, shaggy-headed Germans, curled-up Kiwis -- languorously sprawled as if acting out a page of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog, only with more clothes.
