Sad News...one of my best friends, Big Fame One has passed away

Saw this post and am truly sad. I have been on this board since 01 and Jake was one of the very few people I have spoke to over the phone. Dude was really cooland just had something about him, he was mad respectful to everyone and was one of the funniest people I have ever met. At the least, he got to go out doingsomething he really loved. I hope his family is doing okay, these times are always hard, esp. when a family loses someone so young. Rest In Peace Jake...youwill never be forgotten!
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(i just wanted to add this story that jake wrote last year over at the warfare, it was very entertaining.)

So I was once a wanted man...
Posted: Sunday, November 30, 2008 - 9:18 PM



Well actually, more than just once, most of the time I got caught though. Only a few times I got away "SCOTT FREE!!!!!". A few years ago my cousin"Stabwound" Joe and I went on an impromptu camping trip to Neah Bay which ended in us being wanted by the Washington State Police. The trip ranksright up there with a Solstice Party I went to in an Oregon State Park that ended with a serious family rift, my swearing off Everclear, and having to signpaperwork that said I would not return to Clackamus County Oregon for some amount of years (I don't remember how long really, I was nowhere near sober butI am not rushing to go back anyway).


Both trips were actually proof that us city boys are not campers, not even close. Clackamus County will have to wait for the time being lets focus on Neah Bay.



It was August, it was hot, and at the time I lived in the absolute hottest apartment building in the world. Joe lived upstairs from me, and came to tell me hewas thinking of buying a video game, and wondered did I want to go with.



"Sure, I guess"



Well he was thinking of getting a video game, OR going camping. Did I want to go camping?



"Sure, I guess."



Thing is I don't camp so I don't have camping gear, a sleeping bag, a knife, signal mirrors, iodine tablets, bear spray, any of that +%#*. So we had todo what I am good at, go shopping.



Thing is that I wasn't working back then, and I only had enough money for the BAREST of essentials.



Beer, a couple cans of soup, a can of Spam and I got the rest of my money in singles since the possibility of going to a +%#* hole strip club on the peninsulawas really tempting (as it turns out they don't have any).


We left in the early evening, waited forever for the damn ferry and by the time we made it out to the peninsula it was dark out and we were good and drunk. Werealized that of course there was no way we were going to be able to secure a legit campsite, and we also knew that it might be risky to just set up a tent insome strangers yard on the Indian reservation. Being a city boy I had always thought Indian reservations would be kind of a romantic place. The last bastion ofthe forgotten cultures, art, and languages of our indigenous neighbors. I thought that till the first time I went to one, and this trip hammered that pointhome. It was a +%#* hole, run down shacks with mud gardens, nothing you would include in a tourist book, or on any "must see" list. There was evenwhat looked like a cabin built from spare plywood with a sign on it that said Neah Bay Single Mothers Club, and it was boarded up. I remember thinking tomyself that with nothing to do within 50 miles of course these young girls were getting knocked up, and with their one support resource closed down how couldone feel like they had much of a chance? Anyway we found a sign that said if we followed the road it sat next to we could get to Cape Flattery, thenorthwestern most point of the U.S. Seemed like a great idea, I mean if we were going to do some pirate camping this seemed like a better option than most.


It was nearing midnight as we started down the road, mind you at this point the road was a small, dimly lit road BUT it was a road. Pavement, a curb and all.It wasn't long before the road narrowed a bit, and it was about at this point we started driving by trucks parked along the road with various naked bodyparts pressed against the windows. Faces, a foot or two (or three), an $%!, i think you understand. So it would seem this is why they have enough of apregnancy problem to warrant a single moms club, but the fact that nobody has a home or motel they can go to explains the lack of funding that closes such aplace down. So, I did what anyone would do and hopped in the first F-250 I saw to get in on the action. No really, we just kept driving. Road continues tonarrow, pavement turns to gravel, curbs disappear, and the surrounding shrubs and trees are getting a LOT closer to the open windows of Stabwound's Kia. Ofcourse, we need a place to set up a tent so we keep going.


Our path continued to deteriorate though, eventually the gravel gave way to dirt, which in turn became harder and harder to navigate. We were really offroading at this point, roots and rocks and the whole deal. We had to roll up our windows because the trees had gotten so overgrown, and the road had narrowedso much that we were getting leaves in the car and branches were whipping us in the face. There wasn't even close to enough room for us to turn the cararound and bail, so we were committed like it or not. We were joking that we were never getting back, one day they would just find our mummified corpses in hisKia. No cell service meant that if something did go wrong we would never be able to reach help. Since it was so dark, we could see nothing that wasn'tdirectly in the path of our headlights, and there was no way we could back our way out. Honestly, I was getting worried. Then we saw a ray of hope.


A ray of hope in the form of another cars tail lights way out in front of us, which told us two things. First of all we still had a long way to go to get tothe water, and at least we also knew that if we did die out here, there was a decent chance that the car ahead of us would find us on their return trip. So wedecided to give up and as soon as we found a spot to set up a tent we were going to call it a night.


Eventually, we found a clearing and set up the tent. It was freezing so we downed some beers and ate some cold soup and went to bed. Every 2 hours or so Joewould wake me up, make me chug a beer, or three and let me pass back out. Early in the am, about the time the sun came up Joe woke me up in a bit of a hurriedfashion. As it turned out we were sleeping on a construction site and the guys wanted to get to work. In our packing up we noticed a few things, first we wereso near the water had we continued another minute or two we would be testing the Kia's buoyancy and that the tail lights we were following were in factlights on a buoy, likely to keep ships from coming ashore and killing the locals so focused on making babies in the cab of an '84 F-150 that theywouldn't know it till a barge was sitting on them. So we turned the car around and bailed, one can of spam, maybe a half rack or so, and like 40 bucks insingles in tow.


We decided to take a different route home, which turned out to be a decision that could cost us some jail time and possibly even our tush virginity (in allfairness I can only really speak for my own tushes integrity). We decided to take HW-101 along the coast since we had to leave early anyway. On the way we raninto a dead stop traffic jam on a one lane road. Luckily for us we were the first car, and the flagger who stopped us appeared to be more busy smokingcigarettes, and drinking Gatorade than keeping an eye on the restless drivers she had stopped, who were getting more and more iritated by the minute. By that,I mean Joe of course. So we are sitting there, half drunk, and getting pissed off because we don't even see any reason for this chick to have stopped us.There is a bunch of State workers moseying around, again pretty much smoking cigarettes and generally wasting tax payer money. So Joe made his move, and hegunned it. Miss Smokes 'N Gatorade leaped into action and literally threw herself onto the hood of our car, slid across it and landed in the gravel. Shemade a noise sort of like when you slit a cats throat with a rusty hacksaw blade (You all know). We did the only thing two self respecting, god fearing, cityboys could do. We ran. The Kia hit top speed, and we rocketed southbound on HW-101 at a hair raising 50mph. Sure that they had gotten our plates. Open beers inhand we made our getaway like they were coming for us. Course for all we knew they were.


We got maybe a mile down the road when we saw why they had blocked traffic, a huge machine was coming toward us with some kind of remote controlled tree prunerthing on it. It was wider than the lane it was in and was protruding into our lane, so Joe hit the shoulder and raced past. We were getting kind of excited, itwas clear by the looks on the faces of the guys operating the fancy tree pruner that they had been made aware of our assault on their co-worker. So we keptgoing, figuring we had made it and were off "scott free".


Course, we are idiots. Someone had to be at the other end blocking traffic that was trying to go northbound, someone with a walkie talkie I would imagine. Aswe approached the southern road worker camp, it was clear they had prepared for us. Three flaggers stood in the middle of the road, with stop signs held out.The one in the middle was a lady who looked a little like Brian Urlacher. Joe faked left, gunned it to the right and left Urlacher and her pals in the dust,coughing on our exhaust. They had even thrown their flags at us as we got away. Key words there of course are, "got away". The words I left out were"for now".


We pulled off on a logging road to make a needed pit stop, and parked on the side of the gravel road with a view of HW-101. Wasn't long before we saw asmall army of State Patrol cars (Okay, it was three), sirens blaring screaming up the highway in the direction we had just come from. A little reminder thatour adventure may not be quite over with.


So we got back to the road and took our chances. Driving away from the cops seemed logical, but we couldn't be sure that there wasn't more cops comingand this stretch of road gives you very little in the way of options. In fact the logging road we had pulled off on was the only road we had seen thatintersected the highway and it had certainly come at a good time.


About a mile down the road we ran into a full on road block, state transportation vehicles blocking the road with flashing lights on, and state workers allover clearly ready for a final showdown. We had a clear view of them a minute or two before they had a clear view of us. So I tied a bandanna around our rearlicense plate and we rolled down the hill, as we saw them selectively letting other people through the blockade, clearly keeping an eye out for the white Kia.Now we were in a string of cars about 10 or so long so we knew they couldn't see us just yet, then as we got closer we saw that at least one worker was onto us. So Joe did what he had to, cranked the car hard to the right and gassed it. Right over the shoulder, we were crossing some brutal terrain and traversingone hell of an incline. I thought the car might flip but somehow we stayed upright. The shoulder dipped down into a bit of a ravine and as we pulled back onthe road we fully went airborne (imagine the Dukes of Hazard but with a white Kia covered in mud).

I would like to report it doesn't end here, that the trucks came after us, but all I remember seeing is workers chasing after the car, I assume after theplate number. We crested a hill, and kept it moving. Adrenaline was high, and so was our speed.

Finally, we got to a spot where the highway split off in a few different directions, and we knew that meant we had a pretty decent chance of getting away. Imean %%** they can't chase us forever. We pulled the bandanna off the rear license plate, picked a route and took off. Like I said adrenaline was high, andI remember punching the +%#* out of each other and screaming "Scott free" at the top of our lungs for like the next half hour.

We stayed alert for a few weeks at least, waiting to see if Joe got anything in the mail, and nothing ever came. We had truly gotten away clean.

"Scott freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee ##%+@@!!!!!"

p.s. Go google search white kia, see what comes up. Just don't do it at work.
 
That story is classic Jake.

And i feel blessed to have heard him tell it in person numerous times. To those of you who had an appreciation for my dudes way with words via a keyboard, itsamazing how much funnier he was in person. He made you feel like you were there with him, and rarely could he finish telling a full story without going off ona tangent with another story he was reminded of in the midst of telling the original.

Hell, i was involved in a lot of his stories and i swaer i forget how funny and memorable they were until i hear him tell someone else about it. A trulytalented man with the english language. We used to talk about him writing a book later on in life with a lot of his stories. Less so an autobiography, andmoreso an average Joe's book of tales.

Sorry for rambling, the sauce ahs me reminiscing.
 
Originally Posted by OLD SCHOOL

Originally Posted by oo206oo

Lol, this dude...
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I'm pretty sure that's a shirt I sent folk
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I sent that dude my Oly 6's & two fitteds one time too for next to nothing
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. that popped up in my head the other night pause. With him though, i didn't even think about it twice. "You can have it fam, it'snothing."
 
I can vouch for that son, he told me straight up you sent him that.

And that pimp cup was the source of many drunken night jokes and ridiculousness.
 
Gotty I remember that exchange also. He really respected you, you guys would have really hit it off in person. I'm sorry you never got to meet.
 
Forgive me, but i'm just now seeing this...and I'm just as saddened and shocked like everyone else. I'm truly sorry to hear about what happened.R.I.P...
 
damn yo .. deff. saddens me to hear this .. i knew once i read the title that it was a member .. Rest in Peace Fame.
 
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