It started the way every dumb, dangerous, pointless, glorious, godforsaken adventure should start: with the clink of glasses in a Mexican hotel room that reeked of booze. Then a couple of guys climbed into some kind of cockeyed psychedelic hot-tub-on-a-roller-skate and bounced into history. Today, 50 years later, their many disciples, the desert weirdos who get excited about inhaling mouthfuls of dust at 60 mph while undergoing traumatic spinal compression and trying to keep from biting through their tongues, are still telling the tale… read more >
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