On the Run Flashbacks, Part 3: Stranded in Oregon and The Struggle ...

So as we crash landed in Oregon into that Anarcho-communist compound, we honestly found ourselves immersed in a world we didn't want to be in. Our consolation prize was the beautiful surroundings and our Rebel dog, both offering an escape from our crazy lives. We were in Oregon for probably 3 months and it was a difficult experience at best. Last I left off in the flashbacks were introducing ourselves to those on the property. We went there for easy to get better paying work, and what we found was a much more communistic approach to a businesses.

On the west coast you just work, because they're your friends and they pay you whatever they think you deserve. If they have a good year and you get along well, you'll make out like a bandit. If anything goes wrong in their season and you have any disagreements, expect to get screwed on pay and probably to be treated like shit.
Stranded in Oregon: West Coast v. East Coast

We did get one job trimming in Oregon, through the people we were staying with on a farm about an hour away. I didn't mention it in the post I'm about to share but this day was the first time I ever tried kombucha I liked, just one bottle in that flip top glass of some orange ginger concoction. It was made by a woman I called dready, partially because she had some of the nicest dreadlocks I had seen on a woman.

We got invited inside the house, where Dready shared that the entire thing was made from recycled materials. The house was gorgeous, an art piece in itself. It sported a wood stove for heat and cooking purposes and was honestly really nice. We smoked a little weed with her on the back porch, while we waited for her husband.
Stranded in Oregon: Trim Job and Stoned Dogs

We had no idea when we first met them, but two characters we renamed Rob and Cassie (for the sake of their privacy) were a big part of our Oregon on the run adventures. It all started with a ride, literally the one and only time I've ever hitch hiked. They weren't bad people but they were honestly broken people with a child, which was interesting and sad to watch. They weren't neglectful in any way other than they were broken emotionally and not easily able to provide for his needs.

We'll start with how we met, we were walking down the main country road we lived on towards the grocery store in town. We had David with us, the resident hitchhiking hippy, so naturally he stuck his thumb out at every car that drove by in the hopes that they'd pick him up. Finally, a 90s SUV did, with two young people in it. For the sake of the story, we'll call them Cassie and Rob.

We befriended them both as an escape and because they were interesting people. We spent time driving around and nearly getting into trouble, hitting up the local casino late at night. I learned that I'm not that into gambling, especially on the run with no money. I can't even say I had a lot of fun when we were going on their dime, as he won the lottery in our friendship. It just felt like shoving something I needed into a singing machine for nothing. And it was also worry some because if I hit big they'd ask for identification on the spot....which I wasn't interested in showing to anyone.

We spent our time on that farm working realistically, between John doing chainsaw work and me spending my days in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning for 15 people. We knew they were touting themselves as the idealist communists, the "you'll get out what you put in types" but with how they treated us we understood what their true views were.

At the end of the day, partially due to difference in philosophy, nothing we ever did was enough. Living in that household was another reminder that communism doesn't work, as the ones providing value were treated as though they were burdens.
[Stranded in Oregon: East Coast v West Coast](https://steemit.com/life/@lily-da-vine/stranded-in-oregon-part-5-east-coast-v-west-coast-expanded]

Things went on and honestly got tense as our differences became more clear. We did our best to provide values in other way as we were having a hard time finding work and we couldn't contribute money.

We were some of the thinnest people on that property, and the people that were fattest were complaining that we were eating too much. We did our best to find our own way off that property, although we were almost forced to leave one day, just a few weeks after we got Rebel.
Stranded In Oregon: Kicked Off the Commune, almost

As soon as it was clear we weren't officially kicked off, we spent our time doing research on the best course of action. We considered everything from hiding out in the forest for a place to live to squatting a nearby abandoned house. We considered all options and decided a best case scenario would be a vehicle with good registration that we could live in and drive to the border and to Acapulco ideally. So we found a guy willing to trade weed for a truck and made the deal.

We contacted the guy about the truck and he was the first one interested in a trade for weed. After some negotiations, he agreed to take a half pound of weed and 7 grams of dab for the truck.
Truckin in Oregon: Weed for Truck

So we got a truck and we had some crazy adventures with Rob and Cassie half assed (mostly on their past) attempts to illegally harvest firewood to sell. The goal was to make money to get out of there, the result was a broken truck and no money with an increasingly hostile situation. He won 10,000 dollars in the lottery and invested some into a firewood business with us. I'll start by saying that venture ended in our engine blowing on our new truck, exactly what we didn't need to happen.

He could have just spent the money on the security deposit for a place and a few months rent at least (which is actually what Cassie was bugging him to do), but he decided he was going to make more money with it. His plan was an illegal firewood business, with the intent to become legal before long, once enough money was made.
Stranded in Oregon: Illegal Firewood Businesses and Blown Engines

I'll paused here as the on the run adventures to the border start around here and let's face it, the internet has a small attention span. One thing I've realized reading these posts is how wordy and badly formatted my posts were in the beginning. Sure, descriptive as fuck, but also wordy. I was playing off of my childhood love of Stephen King there a little too much. Stay tuned as I'll flashback again sometime soon, probably in the form of a link list for all these posts for those just interested in the content, not my commentary.