I am not entirely sure where to start with today. Today was our day with Richard Skaggs, the owner and proprietor of Hikertown. Despite his sketchy reputation, here on the PCT, Richard turned out to be a very interesting and unique person. He is business man and owner of two companies, a film producer and director, he was one of the early designers of Epcot Center, he is an appointed California commissioner with the Republican party, and a supporter of the PCT and an environmentalist to boot.
In the morning, as we were stirring from our tent on the gusty lawn, he invited us into his home for coffee and breakfast. Most of the other hikers had left so it was just the two of us -- a couple others were busy outside finishing their preps for departure. He was effusive and enjoyed a curmudgeonly, friendly banter as he mixed up beans and fried pancakes on the stove top. Bob, his property assistant and hiker helper came in and for a while we got into the origins of Richard's bad rap in the hiker community. Bob chewed his lip and hesitantly warned, "Richard, you should probably just leave it be. It's all taken care of." He seemed nervous that his boss would say something he later regret -- something Bob might have to smooth over for him. There had apparently been some bad blood between Richard and Donna Saufley in the past and Richard, being in politics and fearing for his reputation, takes the whole thing very seriously. The last thing he needs is for it to get out that he is running a forced labor camp and making voyeur shower videos of hikers on the side. They got as far as threatening lawsuits at one point but Bob assures him now that it's all taken care of -- Bob is Richard's PCT liason. Richard insists that that's all news to him. He's having a good time, and can tell that we're not judging him. Eliza and I are enjoying ourselves. These guys seem ok to us. We even go as far as extending ourselves to help around the house and property during the day.
So there we are two hours later sitting in his study surrounded by piles of pressboard and baggies of hardware as we undertake the assembly of Richard's wife's new computer hutch. It went well, and after four hours and a few beers we had it completed. A couple of neighbors showed up at one point and they commenced taking tequila shots for much of the afternoon in the livingroom. We got to see Richard's original in-house Epcot film twice and heard all about his miracle fuel emmision additive product and environmental testing companies. By the time we left the house at around 4:30 he was saying that we should come work for him. Sure, we thought. He probably says that to everyone, right?
In the evening, things got really bizarre. Richard's wife came out from LA -- he had spent part of the day scrubbing the floor for her arrival -- and literally five minutes after she pulled up in her sporty new Saab, he came charging out of the house dressed and showered, shirt tucked in -- a whole different guy, really. Right off he spots us in the yard where we sat examining the PCT register, reading other hikers' entries, and calls out, "There you are, do you guys like fish? Come with me down to the shore. I've got to do a few things and I need your help. Get your drivers' license too." And before we know it we are flying, and I mean flying, down the highway bound once again for Los Angeles.
In the car we had a long conversation about his political life, his businesses and his twenty year battle with the oil companies. He really liked talking with Eliza as she has a background in environmental issues. It was a fast drive -- at points he would top out at over 110 mph -- and we were pretty interested in his stories. Among other things, he is remaking an environmental film which he directed some 20 years ago, for which he's already got me marked down as a production assistant. We stopped in at his office where he gathered up a bunch of documents and letters concerning his product and clients, showed us all the celebrity photos on his walls, gave us a tour of part of his car collection, including his prized 1919 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost, and started to talk pretty seriously in a tone that seemed to say, "these are going to be important things for you to know about when you are working for me in the fall."
We sped on from his office on the LA harbor to a row of waterfront seafood joints, here we sat and gorged on a terrific meal of Mexican-style fish and chips and clam chowder, while mariachi bands dueled and the fishing boats came in over our shoulders in the harbor. We had an excellent meal and afterwords we drove up the hill into San Pedro to stop at his home and grab the documents his wife had forgotten to bring him. He showed us around his beautiful, striking house and after a quick stop at the grocery store, we set off on our return trip back to the Antelope Valley and Hikertown.
It was late, nearly 11:00, when we returned. I drove and Richard fell asleep in the back. The whole day had occurred like a scene out of Augie March. We had been suddenly adopted, without more than a nod of our heads as affirmation, dragged into some great political battle, hired on as private assistants, chauffeurs, wined and dined and left wondering, "Was that guy for real, or what?"
At the very least, he stood up to the rumors and the bad rap he had come to receive within the PCT community. He was extremely generous and showed us a great time.
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