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Boyd's White Knuckle Tours - Incident #117 - San Luis Obispo
By Boyd E. Harris

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Incident: #117
Date: May 9, 2006
Place: San Luis Obispo, California
Touring Team: R.J. Cavender, Boyd E. Harris

On a dark desert highway
Cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas
Rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance
I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy, and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night

~The Eagles, "Hotel California"

And so they make camp in the little Town of San Luis Obispo. On a map this is the perfect place to stop, if you are traveling across the state, and you are on a budget. On a map, that is. The town is beautiful, it's near, but not quite on the coastline, so lodging is rather inexpensive, and it has comfortable proximity from both LA and San Francisco.

They find the very quaint roadside lodge, The Colitas Inn; a clean, economic and accessible place near downtown, which boasts a nice view of the mountains. An elderly female clerk, with an Eastern European accent, who proves to be perfectly polite and helpful, maybe too much so, Boyd thinks, checks them in. As the road weary travelers are about to slog their way to their room, she stops them.

She says, "Would you sweet, young gentlemen care for a free slice of Caramel Apple pie before we close the office?"

The famished men agree, and each inhale an enormous slice of the richest, tastiest pastries they'd ever had.

She stands nearby, and asks in a slow, visceral voice, "Will you young men be looking for a place to meet people tonight?"

Images of "Hostile" run through Boyd's mind. "Sure," he says, finding a nod of confirmation from Cav.

"Then tonight go to the 'Frog and the Peach'. It's dollar pint night and it will be crowded with kids." The town is also said to have a small college, which lends itself to cheap libations. She clutches Boyd's forearm, holds it there long enough to bring a chill down his spine, and drops her voice for the next tip. "You should ask for the local brew." Her voice diminishing to a long-drawn-out whisper, she adds, "It's intoxicating."

They thank her, walk out, and as the door closes behind them, and irritated at the eeriness, Boyd says to Cavender, "Of course it's intoxicating – it's beer!"

Cavender says, "Yes. Let's hope that's all that it is."

##

Upon entering the crowded bar, a 6 foot, 4 inch, 300 pound man, sporting a thick beard and a boyish smirk, approaches them, almost as if he has been summoned by someone to meet them. He introduces himself as Brian and wades through the sea of patrons to buy each of them a beer.

Cav says to Boyd, "Isn't this crowd a little odd for a college bar?"

Boyd nods, looking around at the grungy crowd, decked in every sort of blue collar attire, flannel with cut off sleeves, Dickey's jeans… one guy had a white t-shirt, with the sleave rolled up over a pack of cigarettes. Some of the girls were attractive, but in a plain, unkempt stringy-hair way. Most of the men had an overabundance of facial hair; like Brian for instance, had a four inch beard from ear to ear.

The scruffy guy returns, holding for himself a golden light beer, and hands Cav and Boyd pint glasses filled with a darker, almost amber colored, foamy liquid. He says in a low, steady voice, "This is our local brew – it's intoxicating."

The parched guests drink, but with heightened senses.

Boyd asks Brian, "So what is the name of your school?"

The guy squints his eyes, uncertain of the question.

Cav rephrases Boyd's question. "Your college here. What is the name?"

Brian says, "It's The College."

Cavender and Boyd nod. Boyd figures they are thinking the same thing. Is there really a college?

The burly man then proceeds to discuss every subject under the sun in just two and a half minutes. Brian is friendly enough, but he exudes a similar creepy tone to the clerk at the Colitas Inn.

He buys them another round, and they accept. Surrounded by animated patrons with light colored brews, Cav leans over to Boyd and privately comments, "We're the only ones drinking the local brew."

As though he knows what was just said, Brian steps in to say's, "Good beer, huh?"

Cavender and Boyd nod out of courtesy.

Then Brian leans down to his guest's height, gets in close to them, and with menacing glee, he presents a secretive question. "Have you boys seen the creek?"

Before the guests answer, he turns and points to a hallway at the back of the bar. "It's that way - Go!"

Weakened to the power of suggestion, possibly by the effects of the alcohol in the strange brew, the visitors march from the crowd and through the hallway, the burly college student close behind. They follow a maze of kinks in the corridor, which seem to never end. Boyd catches glimpses of the horrifically large character's shadow on the walls behind him, and glances a few times over his shoulder to confirm the creepy character's proximity.

The hallway ends with a metal door, framed and strengthened by rusty metal beams. Between the support rods the door has been beaten outward, as though people, victims had been trapped inside, and had pounded uselessly, praying to escape.

The visitors come to a stop, trapped at the abandoned end of a long narrow hall. They turn, and from the darkness, the shadowy behemoth of a man shuffles up to them, balefully grinning.

"What's the matter gentlemen? Change your mind?"

Brian edges closer to them. "Dontcha wanna see the creek?" He asserts, slow and steady.

Cavender and Boyd inch backwards leaning into the dead end of the corridor. Boyd feels the cold steel of the warped door against his back.

The door swings outward, taking the visitors off balance, almost dropping them to the floor.

Two college girls stand on the outside, one of them holding the door. She says, "Excuse us."

The three men move aside, as they walk through towards the front of the bar. Cavender and Boyd turn to a crowded outdoor patio.

Brian steps through and squeezes his way to the back, where a door man stands at a short gate that opens up to a sidewalk, a bridge, and a creek. The guests follow and glance over into the trickling brook, which cuts its path through the center of the town.

Brian says, "It's the water that's in your beer."

Cavender points to the shadowy vagrant standing at its edge a block away. "Mountain spring water, I see."

There is a serious lack of amusement on Brian's face. He's offended, after all he's bought the guests two of the local brew out of the goodness of his heart, and they've just insulted it. He makes painfully lengthy eye contact with Cavender, his grimace accented by a bristly beard.

The two have once again become nervous.

After being frozen in anger for the entire moment, the man breaks his concentration, reverts back to his chipper self, and says, "Have you guys seen a panoramic view of San Luis Obispo?"

Cavender and Boyd are not sure how to respond.

"Come to my house. It's an old Victorian home that was made into apartments during WWII. You just have to see the view from the roof!"

Boyd says, "Uh, well we were just going to have a beer and then be on our way. Long day of driving tomorrow, you know."

Brian puts one finger up, and says, "Wait here," then he rushes away.

"What's up with this guy?" Boyd says.

"Dunno," Cav responds, "but what a character!."

"Yeah, but you know, I think we should get out of here. That guy is dangerous"

Cavender folds his arms, "We could take him."

Boyd shrugs as Brian returns with 4 more local brews and a light beer for himself. Someone sets a half finished Zima Malt beverage down on a table next to them, and Brian picks it up. He sniffs it, then takes a swig. He nods his head. "Not bad." He proceeds to pour the contents of the bottle into his own glass of beer and stir the mixture around with his index finger. Then he chugs his beer.

He looks at the visitors and says, "So what'll it be, gentlemen?"

Boyd shakes his head and begins his graceful refusal, while reaching down to pick up his fresh beer.

Brian's brows tighten and he grabs the beer and sets it away from Boyd's reach. "You don't deserve this beer!" He stands between Boyd and the beer, and in fact has Boyd and Cavender cut off from the exit.

Cavender chuckles, and Brian turns to him, grabs his beer and sets it out of reach as well. "You don't deserve it!"

Cavender and Boyd raise their brows to each other.

The giant man is furious! He slams his own empty glass on the table and says, "You tourists just don't understand! You whisk through our beautiful little town, stay for a quick night on your way to… Sa-an Fra-ancisco", he mocks in a spoiled child's voice, "and you don't even show a hospitable local any respect for his pride in his own community! You just come in, slurp down a few of his free beers, then move on, showing no gratitude or appreciation for what he's offering you."

Boyd, feeling a little guilty says, "Listen I'm sorry. It's just that we wanted a quick beer then turn in. We didn't think we'd…"

"You just don't understand," the lumberjack says, his voice weakening and cracking. He drops his head. "The mountain range at night is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. I swear, you won't regret it." He's now staring at his own shoes. While the rest of his face is shamefully hidden in pity, one eye bounces up, checks the visitors for their reaction.

Cavender turns to Boyd, looking for support to follow the man.

Boyd shakes his head.

Brian rises up! "Dammit people! I swear you're making a huge mistake if you miss this view!" His teeth grind like a cheese grater on a carrot. "You are making a HUGE MISTAKE!" Brian is yelling, spiting his words in fury, and the most frightening thing to Boyd is all the other patrons and the outside doorman ignore him, as if they are used to it.

In a calm voice, Cav eyeballs the man and says, "Now you are really are creeping me out."

Brian nods and drops his head again, instantly returning to his pathetic, sorrowful routine. "I know; it's just that I'm so passionate about the view from the roof of this house. You wouldn't understand until you saw it."

Boyd continues to shake his head.

Brian springs up from his depression again, grabs Boyd's beer and hands it to him. "Here, you need this!"

Boyd takes it and looks at Cav, then takes a swig.

Cavender pushes, "Come on Boyd, where's your sense of adventure?"

Brian becomes hopeful. His brows dance with delight as he sees Boyd softening.

##

They enter the creaky old house at the top of the downtown area. Brian says, "Remember to keep quiet." He leads them up some stairs and along a dark hallway. "We wouldn't want anyone to know what's about to happen on this roof tonight, now would we?"

Cavender asks, "We're just going to drink a beer and take in the incredible view, right?"

"Well, yes, but they've made the roof off limits, against the rules to go up there?"

"Why?" Boyd asks.

Brian points the way, and Boyd hands Cav his beer, and begins to climb a steep ladder toward the third story rooftop door.

Brian says, "Well they made the rule because too many drunk people fell off."

Boyd stops and looks back at Brian, then Cavender

Brian adds, "It's steep and dark up there, but you'd have to be pretty careless to fall off. It would be more likely for someone to get pushed off."

Boyd shoots Cav a pissy look, brushes away a few spider webs, then pushes the cover open.

He climbs up onto the roof and turns back, reaches down to grab his and Cavender's beers.

Cav climbs up and they stand up to look at the amazing skyline. The panoramic view is as amazing as Brian had promised. The mountains completely surround the town and the starlight and moonlight are just enough to make the ridges glow.

Brian steps up and looks around with them. "Amazing, huh?" Then he looks at Boyd. "You know you are standing on the very edge, right?"

Boyd looks down to see his heels treading the ninety-degree drop off. He steps away from it. "Schwooo!"

Brian turns to Cav, who's on his other side, and says, "You're pretty close to the other edge."

Cavender steps away.

The 320 pound man, puts his hands on each visitor's shoulders and looks up. "So answer for me, this. If your last sight on Earth could be anything you chose, wouldn't you want it to be this?"

Both men nod.

Brian tightens his monstrous grip on each of their shoulders, and in a rising voice of fury, say's, "I can't hear you!"

The visitors stare at one another, eyes bulging, as they each realize they are at the edge of a forty foot drop off, and completely at Brian's mercy.

In unison, they raise their voices. "Yes"!

"Good, then you get your wish!" He nudges each of them toward their edges, inciting loud gasps from each. "Just kidding," he follows, a grin brightening under the moon and stars. "Now if you gentlemen follow me down stairs, I'll show you where we keep the time capsules."

"Time capsules?" R. J. curiously repeats.

"It's a closet full of lunch boxes full of relics from each tenant who's lived here since they divided it into apartments. There are spirits in that room."

##

After viewing a creepy basement, with brick walls that look maybe a century old, Brian uncorks a bottle of the local vino, pours Cav and Boyd a glass and proceeds to pour himself a glass of commercial wine. He sits the visitors down in his living area and through his deep throaty voice, begins to recite a line from a classic sea novel. "And we were surprised to find that we could see down into their dark, shiny blowholes."

Shortly after Cavender is coerced into reciting "Scavenger Hunt" under the careful direction of, and with countless interruptions by Brian.

At 4 am the guests decide to make their way back to the hotel, but they are not allowed to leave until Brian prints up a photo of himself, and signs it. In the darkness of the driveway they cannot really see the picture or read what has been written on the back, but upon close inspection, once they are safely back in their room, they find the answer to the riddle of this mysterious man. The front is a common head shot, nothing unexpected, but Brian's smirk is that of a talented trickster. Cavender turns the picture over to examine one single scribbled line on the back.

It reads, "I like boyz."

*BONUS STORY–"Atlantis Purging"*