I'm 53 years old this month. I was born in North Dakota, grew up in
Mississippi, Louisiana and California. I joined the Merchant
Marines at 16, the Army at l8, and went to Alaska at 21, then
proceeded to galavant all around that state off and on for l8 years.
My folks have lived in Juneau, Alaska since l970.
I never had a career at anything. I was a drifter and a job
skipper. I held a job for 13 months once, back in the seventies.
My civilian record. I always wanted to see what was on the other
side of the hill and I didn't care much how I got there. Drive,
fly, walk, bus, hitchike, freight train. Whatever. The Aleutians,
Kodiak, the Big Island, the Keyes, the San Juans. Santa Fe, Denver,
Phoenix, Tucson, San Antonio, New Orleans, El Paso, Anchorage,
Seattle, Portland, Salt Lake City, Missoula, Billings, Rapid City,
Fairbamks, Jackson Hole, Colorado Springs, Fort Worth, Sioux Falls,
and, oh yes, Las Vegas. I've drifted through all those places and a
whole lot of small towns in between. Mostly thumbing the
interstates or riding freight trains. Lost my driver's license along
time ago and never cared to get it back. I took regular jobs in
some of those spots but mostly worked day labor living out of a
small backpack and a sleeping bag.
I'm the King of the Hitchikers. Well over a hundred thousand
miles. I mostly stayed west of the Mississippi River. Don't like
it much back east. Wide open spaces is my bag. I don't think there
is one stretch of interstate west of the river I haven't thumbed.
Most of them several times. My longest hitchike was Meridian,
Mississippi to Skagway, Alaska. 5000 miles/7 days almost to the
minute.
I was in Dutch Harbor, Alaska in April, 1992, working as a stevedore
when my real father fell dead of a heart attack in Tupelo,
Mississippi. I had $1500 to my name but layed down $1100 on a one-
way flight to Tupelo. There hadn't been a plane in or out of Dutch
in three days (great weather in Dutch) but a little hole opened in
the sky and we shot through it. When I got him buried my
Mississippi relatives asked me how I was gonna get back to
Alaska. "I'll show you how. Drop me off on the highway and get
lost."
I hitchiked to Las Vegas with $300 and change looking to parlay it
up. I needed to be standing in Seattle with $550 to fly back to
Dutch. I went broke on the first day (nothing new to me). I was on
the street (nothing new to me). I had no job (nothing new to me).
I met a casino hustler named Black Bart who taught me how to Buffalo
Hunt. Cruising the slots looking for credits on abandoned
machines. I got really good at it. One time, another hustler and
me were lying to each other about how good we were. I told
him "once I was walking down the steet in front of the Golden Nugget
and spied a machine flashing in the Horseshoe, so I walked across
the street and picked up the credits." He said "that's nothing, I
was riding the bus down the strip, spied a machine flashing in the
Riviera, got off at the next stop, walked back to the Riviera and
picked up the credits".
One day I walked into the Horseshoe and the final event of the World
Series of Poker had just started. I watched the whole thing for the
next three days. The proverbial lightbulb goes off in my head. If
these hillbillies can do it so can I. I left no stone uncovered in
my research. The Special Collections section of the North Las Vegas
Library had the best collection of poker books I've ever seen in a
library anywhere. A couple of logistical problems though. I didn't
have a bankroll and it was hotter than hell in Las Vegas. I'll have
to put Las Vegas on hold.
I hitchiked north, had a change of heart and wound up in Seattle,
looking to make the money to get back to Dutch. Coming up with $550
from working day labor for minimum wage was going to be no easy
task. Especially since I couldn't stay out of the bars sucking up
cheap beer every night. One day I snapped. To hell with Alaska. I
don't know where I'm going from here but I'm going.
I started hitchiking east on I-90 with $20 in my pocket, my small
backpack and sleeping bag, asking every ride if they knew a good
town for day laborers. I was over in Idaho when I caught a ride by
a guy who told me Jackson, Wyoming was. He dropped me off in
Bozeman. Destination, Jackson Hole.
He was right. Those day labor jobs payed $8 and $9 dollars an
hour. I banked up $300 and hitchiked to Deadwood, South Dakota and
started playing $5 poker. Pretty scary situation, huh? Playing $5
poker on a $300 bankroll. Not for a day laborer living out of a
backpack and sleeping bag. Seven Card Stud-Eight or Better. That
was the game. I designed a system of minimal risk. The buy-in was
$20. I had fifteen buy-ins. Anytime I won a pot, I palmed some
chips off the table to create new buy-ins. Poker players ate for
free. If I could afford it I stayed in hotels. If not, I slept in
the woods, took showers at the pool.
Someone told me Cripple Creek, Colorado was a good Stud Hi-Lo town.
So I hitchiked on down. They were right. I was there 93 and 94.
Stayed in the campground in the summers and down the hill in
Colorado Springs in the winter taking the bus up every day. But
then, they closed the poker room in December 94. Jerkwads! No
other stud hi-lo games in town.
Sandia, at Albuquerque, just opened there poker room. Well, let's
thumb on down and take a look. Sure enough, stud hi-lo. I worked
that room in 95 and 96. But then, something strange happened. The
money dried up. The players at Sandia got tighter and tighter and
tighter. The game reminded me of Madam Tussaud's Wax Museum.
Jerkwads! They were starving me out.
So I took off hitchiking around the world looking for another stud
hi-lo game. I thumbed and thumbed and thumbed. Went back to Iowa
and even Michigan. Couldn't find one. I finally rolled into
Laughlin, Nevada in October, 1996, with 99 cents in my pocket, some
rolling tobacco and my gear which I stashed in the Desert above
Harrah's. There was one thing I was qualified to do at that point.
Buffalo Hunt.
So I went into Harrah's and was picking up some change when I
noticed another Buffalo Hunter and struck up a conversation. "This
is great", he says. "I'm from Atlanta and went broke playing
blackjack. I got a couple of days before my flight back and some
local showed me how to do this. He also showed me the pigs". "The
pigs" I said, "what are the pigs?". "Some slot machines the locals
are beating" he said. "Show them to me."
Harrah's had a bank of 6 quarter "piggy bankin" machines. They were
bonusing slots. So in between slot cruises I stood there and
watched. The tourist would put in a twenty dollar bill and bang 2
coins. There was a computer screen up top with a piggy bank that
started with ten coins in it. Every time the machine caught 3
blanks two coins would go into the piggy bank. The bank kept going
up until, on the third reel was a symbol called break the bank and
when that sumbol landed on the line the bank broke and the tourist
would get all the coins in the bank. It was what I now know to be a
rapid progressive. But there was something else going on. Many
tourists ran the bank up, ran out of credits and walked off. Some
person hovering around would then proceed to play the machine
betting one coin until he broke the bank and then cash out and go
back to hovering around. I didn't know what they thought was a good
play but they didn't seem to want to play anything below 35. I see
said the blind man. I didn't know what it took for bankroll
either. Just knew I didn't have one.
So I took off up river. Not good for a Buffalo Hunter to hang
around one casino too long. I went through Gold River, then the
Nugget and into the Pioneer. While credit hunting I noticed a guy I
knew from the streets of Las Vegas. He was playing a game called
Flush Attack. He was cashing out. He had 3 great big buckets of
quarters sitting on the machine. I walked up and asked him what he
was doing. He started bragging about all the money he had. Even
pulled out a big wad of bills and waved them around. I asked him to
give me a clue. He said "If something comes up I'll let you know"
and walked off. That might have been what he said but what he was
thinking was "go to hell."
By the time I got to the Edgewater I had $21. There was a lady
playing a pig and walked off on 65. What to do? What to do? Oh
well, if I go broke I just start over. Something has got to give.
I dropped a quarter in and broke the bank on the first spin of the
first pig I ever played. I just fell in love with that "break the
bank" symbol. I continued to Buffalo Hunt for two days but played
any pig at 50 or higher. Those machines were all up and down the
river. At $300 in bankroll I started playing the dollars. Somehow
I got through the window. Once my bankroll was safe, I started
creeping down the number. I knocked off the credit hunting. Don't
want to lose any casinos with those machines in them.
2 days later I checked into Gold River and haven't been without a
roof over my head since. October of this year will be 10 years.
Somehow or another the whole thing came together for me. The money
making opportunity on the pigs, the money management skills (I
finally realized the more money I had the more money I could make),
more bonus machines came out, then the video poker. I went up to
Gamblers General Store to get Lenny Frome's books but also found
some books by a guy named Dan Paymar.
Since then I've worked every town in the state but for the last year
and a half I've been sitting on a big fat 2% edge running $2000 an
hour in action on multi-line VP in a small town in Northern Nevada.
Plays always end but this one doesn't. SO I'M PUTTING AND END TO
IT. Spring is in the air. I've got cabin fever. They thought
they were going to make a hometown boy out of me, but they guessed
wrong. I'M A DRIFTER. Today I'm in the process of jettisoning
every unneeded possession. Just stopped to write this post. Got to
get back down to fighting weight. One rollaway and a laptop.
I'll be in Las Vegas Monday. I'll play some poker around town.
Wynn, Bellagio, Mirage. Probably play some deuces at Plaza, Main
Street, Binion's, or Fiesta. Then I'll probably mosey on out to
Santa Fe and play some ten-play jokers, or maybe down to the El
Cortez and play some jokers. Might bang on the GN deuces if a catch
a number. When the weather gets to hot I'll probably head to Reno.
Play some Cal-Neva progressives, deuces at Silver Legacy and
Peppermill, or a secret play I have in Sparks. Probably do Carson
City while I'm at it. When the weather gets to hot there I might
head up to Marysville, Washington and play some poker, or maybe
Deadwood. There's a casino in North Dakota I've been meaning to
do. Somewhere along the way I'll probably throw the rollaway and
laptop into storage, stop by Wal-Mart, buy a sleeping bag and a
small backpack....
