Edinburgh to Inverness and Back

Bonnie: What were your experiences in Edinburgh?

Scott: It was approaching nightfall and I needed a camp site. Campsites were marked with a large "C," and it was too late to ride all the way to Edinburgh. I couldn't find any camping places, so as a last resort, I went up to a door and knocked.

An older woman answered. She looked like my third grade teacher, but I found out later she was a researcher at a lab. I asked if I could set up tent in the yard and stay overnight, but she wouldn't hear of it and insisted I come in and sleep in her house.

We sat up until 2 am talking and drinking tea. She told me of her research projects and in the morning insisted on fixing me breakfast and giving me points of interest to see in Edinburgh. She was delightful. I left with many thanks and again, put her name and address in my log book.

I spent a week in Edinburgh, a couple days of that spent with the captain of the French Olympic Ski Team. We rode together. His English was excellent and he was definitely fit!

My researcher friend told me to visit Holyrood Palace, so I did. When I saw the sewing table that Sir Walter Raleigh had given Marie Antoinette, I imagined him saying, "Marie would like that!" As strange as it sounds, I cried at the thought. For some reason, this whole adventure was putting me in touch with feelings I hadn't had for quite awhile, if ever.

Since there was some time before the Edinburgh Tattoo was to start, I made a side trip to Inverness to see the Highland Games. On my way, I came across Ferdinand, the Bull, right out of my childhood memories. This was the bull that would rather sit under trees and smell the flowers than fight. He was huge and yellow and there he was grazing in a pasture as I rode by.

While at the Highland Games, I watched marching bands, sword dancers, and caber tossers; all the men were in kilts. The bagpipes played. I ate a meal with the top scorer in the games.

Back in Edinburgh, the highlight of my visit there was the Royal Edinburgh Military Tattoo. It's an annual event performed by the British Armed Forces, Commonwealth and International military bands and display teams on the esplanade of Edinburgh Castle.

The stage was lit and there were probably 5000 people in attendance. I had center, second row seating from the performance. Mists rolled over the bulwark of the castle and out of them came 500 pipers and drummers. It seemed if as the audience all gasped in one breath at the powerfulness of the moment. A speaker began. I can't begin to describe it.

I left Edinburgh and headed south towards Hamlet's home at the head of Loch (Lake) Ness, but turned south to look for the monster. No one I met had seen the monster, but they were all excited to talk about it. The further south I rode, the more Anglicized it became. I was heading for London.

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Scott meets Highland Midge

Bonnie: What are some of your other memories of Prestwick, Scotland in 1983?

Scott: I remember walking into a pub that had a sign over the entryway, "Established in 983," a thousand years before I entered! The same family had owned the pub all that time.

I visited the Bridge over the River Doon (Brigadoon). It was very significant to me since I'd played the role of Harry Beaton in the musical, Brigadoon, at the Tacoma Little Theater in 1963. I died in that play, by the way. It was remarkable to walk on that bridge and I was very much alive.
(Smiles).

I met a young fellow about 19 or 20 years old at an outdoor concert. I'd met the whole family who invited me to dine with them and spend the night. He and I made plans to ride up the River Doon the next day to Loch (Lake) Doon. He'd told me about his "hull-walking" experiences. I looked at him quizzically and asked what that was. He spoke louder as if I was deaf and I finally figured out he was saying, "hill!" Strange how people think you'll understand if they yell at you.

On our ride, we stopped to shoot hoops with some kids playing basketball. They were excited to see my bike. It seemed everywhere I rode, kids would swarm me from villages to see my bike and ask questions.

That evening, I met my first Highland midge. It's a small flying, biting insect that leaves a welt the size of 1/2 a dime. They're small enough to go through any sweater and can drive sheep crazy. They can't fly if there's any wind and this particular night, there was no wind.

We were visiting with another chap in a very small cabin, too small for three to stay overnight. My friend and I had to head for our tents, but could see the midges were piling up on the cabin window, much the same as snow piles against a window pane. But about 2 am, we ran for our tent. Once they smelled the midge spray I'd bought in the States, they said, "Hey fellas, let's get him!" I must have been bitten 2.92 million times. (Laughs). We fought those creatures off all night long. I thought I was going insane.

The next day, as we were pushing our bikes along to give us a rest from peddling, we saw a big pile of stones that had once been a castle. We went inside; most of the roof was gone. There was a cove for statuary up the side of a wall about 15 feet, perhaps a second floor at one time. All of a sudden, the cove was lit by the sun through the roof. The light totally engulfed the alcove. It was lit for only an instant. I thought it was another good sign. It reminded me of a scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Back at the village, I said goodbye to the young man and his family, adding their names to a log book I was carrying and promising to let them know how my trip progressed. Unfortunately, I lost that log and didn't keep my promise.

I spent the next two weeks camped high on a bluff and used that camp as a hub. I'd ride everyday into the countryside to see the sights and visit with the people. I remember meeting an older man with a musical Scottish brogue who recited poetry to me. It was wonderful talking to him.  I was also waiting for funds to be sent from home. Sunny, my former wife, had agreed to manage my finances and send money as I needed it. I was still paying child support, of course.

As soon as funds arrived, I left Prestwick and rode cross country to Edinburgh, Scotland, about 85 miles away.

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Preswick, Scotland

Bonnie: Once you returned from Canada, what was your plan?

Scott: I didn't really have a plan other than to get to Europe and make decisions about where I would go from there. It took me about three or four days flying space available on a military hop to get from Washington State to Dover, Delaware. I met people along the way and shared my goal: I wanted to immerse myself in another culture, to get out of my own shit and do it alone. I was learning how to be sober. By then, I'd been a non-drinker for about a year.

From Dover, I flew to Berlin which was in East Germany at the time. I was only there overnight and the next day caught a hop to Prestwick on the west coast of Scotland, the home of poet Robert Burns, who wrote Auld Lang Syne. It was also location of a castle that Dwight D. Eisenhower had commandeered while getting ready for the D-Day invasion. I later visited both Robert Burns home and the castle.

Bonnie: What were your first impressions of Scotland?

Scott: The Scottish invented macadam (asphalt). As I started away from the airport, riding on the left side of the road instead of the right - easier to think about than to do, I was amazed by the smoothness of the road. It was like glass. With 60 pounds per square inch in my tires, I would have felt a hair, if I'd run over it. (Laughs). It was evening; the ocean was on my right as I headed south; it was hot (the hottest summer in 300 years) and the sun was going down. The homes I passed were all similar with thatched roofs and painted stucco walls. It was against regulations to build any structure unless it looked to be 500 years old. The Scottish mists were rolling in. I was really starting my trip in a different time, place and culture.

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1982: Moving Forward

Bonnie: 1982 was really a year of change for you. You were using a bicycle for transportation, attending lots of AA meetings and you started university classes. Tell me more about cycling since that played a part in your book.

Scott: I started riding the first of June. The first day I rode 2-1/2 miles and thought I was going to die! I threw myself on the field at Jefferson Park and cried. Really. I asked myself what in the world I had done spending my last $500 on this bike that I couldn't ride 2-1/2 miles without feeling exhausted.

I joined the Tacoma Wheelmen and because I was riding every day, by the end of the month I was able to ride 162 miles in two days to Kalaloch from Tacoma. I build callouses on by ass and from then on, it was easy.

Bonnie: In 1983, you'd begun writing, decided not to return to school, but to travel and learn more about yourself as a recovering alcoholic. Where did you start?

Scott: After spring semester, I wanted to get started on my foreign travels, but had to wait for my passport, so with my bike, I hopped a ferry to Victoria, Canada. I was there about ten days and because it's easy for me to meet people, I camped overnight with a guy in a beautiful forested area.

The trees were at least 120 feet high and there was no undergrowth. It was the closest to being in an outdoor cathedral I had ever experienced. It was deathly quiet except for birds. The sun shone through the branches in an ethereal way. I felt awakened spiritually, confirming for me that I was now seeing things through different eyes from how I'd seen them in the past.

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Blank Check

Bonnie: You said leaving California wasn’t the end to your hydroponics venture. What was?

Scott: While I was still in California, I’d contacted a company that grew bean sprouts. They were losing money because 70% of their crop was rotting. When I got back to Tacoma, I called the company and suggested they build a hydroponics tank and maintain the PH at a certain level. They did and were able to reduce wastage to about 10%. I was a hero and inspired to keep working on the hydroponics project. At the same time, I crossed paths with someone who had developed a PH monitoring system for printing presses. I knew the system could be adapted to hydroponics. For the next four months, I worked night and day on the project. I wasn’t drinking, but still had visions of grandeur.

I ran into Steve, a friend from my commercial real estate sales days, who knew a lot of people with money. Because of his interest in the venture, he found an investor willing to write a blank check for whatever it would take to get the business off the ground. That investor called me the day after I’d attended my first Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) meeting on May 6, 1982.

At that meeting, an alcoholic with a lot of sober years under his belt, heard my stories, looked me right in the eye and told me, “You are one sick SOB. Knock off the grandiose BS and get real.” When the investor called the next day, I turned him down. I later told Steve, when he asked why, “If I’d done that, I‘d be dead in a year.” I started college and attending AA meetings – lots of them.

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Pretty Heady Stuff

Bonnie: How far did you get with the concept of a hydroponics business in 1981 before you gave it up and came back to Tacoma?

Scott: I first contacted Trilogy Labs, a conglomerate in Silicon Valley and got someone there on board with the concept. It seemed everyone I met saw the potential and the dollar signs. They opened doors and provided me with transportation and housing. The head of the Art Department at San Jose State University came up with great marketing ideas. He and his department were very well known for their work with ceramics. They had provided all the art deco at the San Francisco Airport. He saw the potential for creating a faux cutting board with a pie plate on it with fruit decorating the scene and that would be the growing tank for a small kitchen harvest. He suggested making a limited number at $399 each. By limiting the number, the demand would grow. The school was behind the concept because it would generate funds for the Art Department. The students had sketches made and they were ready to move ahead with the project when a fire broke out and destroyed the entire department.

Bonnie: When you couldn’t move ahead with the hydroponic concept using San Jose State University for design, is that when you came home?

Scott: No, I wasn’t that easily discouraged. I talked to anyone who would listen about hydroponics. I met a female stained glass artist in a bar (of course). One of her pieces spanned the back of the bar; it was absolutely beautiful. She was so enthusiastic that she created a stained glass hood for the tanks. A furniture company I’d approached made a beautiful wood frame on which her hood fit and a plastics company supplied the tanking system. It hadn’t cost me a dime.

I displayed the model at a home and garden show in San Jose and was asking $1999 apiece. I had people lined up to buy. That led to a television appearance on a local talk show which also created more interest. It was pretty heady stuff for a guy from Tacoma with a couple bucks in his pocket to be accorded that kind of acceptance.

My last binge in California was the trigger to walk away from it all. That and perhaps momentary fear of success. I flew back to Tacoma with $1.15 in my pocket and moved in with my folks, but that wasn’t the end of hydroponics.

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Marijuana?

Bonnie: Where did the idea for a hydroponics business come from? You must have known something about it before you went to California in 1981.

Scott: I was keeping company in Tacoma with a bad crowd, one individual in particular. Dave was a creep, a walking medicine cabinet.

I had been working for a success motivation company and contacted a local dinner theater that was interested in employee training. I was so convincing that the owner, Rocky, asked me to take over the operation of the bar on a partnership basis. I met Dave because he was the manager of the restaurant. It shouldn’t be a surprise, but the bar became so successful, the entire operation was shut down because I was selling too much liquor and Dave wasn’t selling enough food. I drank my fair share in the process, of course.

Dave and I started talking about what we would do next and Dave mentioned hydroponics. I asked him what that was. He had an idea for making units that he would sell to marijuana growers. If what he said was true, I saw the potential for growing food, not drugs. I asked him to show me a unit. He did, but it didn’t work, so I took the concept and developed it to the point where it did work. I made a scale model to take with me to California. Things were booming in San Jose in the Silicon Valley and I figured that would be the place to find investors. As I said before, I flew to California with a $1.15 in my pocket.

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California Dreamin'

Bonnie: Before you get to your story about your European adventures, why were you riding a bicycle as your only transportation?

Scott: Prior to getting sober in late 1981, I was the world's biggest bull shitter - and I never exaggerate either! In fact, I found out in Scotland that Haverly means "bull shitter." At least that's what they told me.

I had gone to California with an idea and got off the plane in California with $1.15 in my pocket. I talked a lot of people into believing in my ideas about hydroponics. I had three cars at my disposal, free accommodations and people willing to invest time and money into the concept, but I walked away from it three months later.

Bonnie: Why?

Scott: One day, I finally drank myself sick. I'd had one six pack of beer and woke up the next evening in a piss-soaked bed. I said, "That's it. I have to get out of here." It was December 4, 1981 and  haven't had a drink since. I came back to Tacoma and moved in with my folks. I had a $1.15 in my pocket (laughs). My only transportation was a bicycle. It was tragic at the same time. I had deceived and disappointed a lot of people. I started attending AA meetings on May 6, 1982. It was the anniversary of getting shot in Cambodia. It was also the anniversary of a good friend's death during the assault.

I got to AA meetings on my bicycle. I was told to attend 90 meetings in 90 days. I later joked that I thought someone had said, "Ninety meetings in nine days." (Laughing) I was going to meetings all the time; some days four times a day. I'm not one for doing anything in moderation.

Bonnie: Really. I hadn't noticed. (Tongue firmly planted in cheek).

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Escaping Myself

Bonnie: At what point did you realize your writing was turning into more than something to pass the time?

Scott: When a character solved a problem, it led to another problem and I found myself asking what does he do now? I wrote on and off during my 1983 spring semester at the University of Puget Sound (UPS), at the end of which I had found more enjoyment in writing than studying, so I quit school.

Bonnie: What did you do then?

Scott: Because I was retired from the military, I had unlimited travel opportunities. Wherever the military went, I could go for free on a space available basis. So I spent some time in Canada and then headed for Europe with my bicycle. I had also read in an article in TV guide that a person can't get out of their own problems unless they immerse themselves in another culture. I was a recovering alcoholic. I still am. As a recovering alcoholic and all that involves, it indicated to me that a trip abroad was in my best interest. And as an alcoholic, I could justify any of my actions whether it was getting out of a marriage, leaving my family or heading to Europe. So I went.

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Birthing a Book

Bonnie: What made you decide to write a book?

Scott: Actually it was because of my big mouth. As a trained singer, I developed muscles which, when not used for some time, can be easily injured. It was late 1982 and I was singing baritone in Mozart's Requiem Mass with the Tacoma Community Choir led by Gene Nelson. The night of the final dress rehearsal, during an exuberant portion of the oratorio, I felt a pull in my groin. In short, I ruptured myself singing.

Bonnie: So how did that lead to a book?

Scott: In 1974, I retired from the military with a 100 percent medical disability after a near fatal motorcycle accident. My 11 years in the Army, both as an enlisted man and later as an officer, provided content for what later became this book. But back to my rupture...

These kinds of injuries radically curtail physical activities. I could no longer ride my bicycle, which at the time was my only transportation. I could only do something requiring no physical activity. I was also a student at the University of Puget Sound (UPS) in Tacoma, WA and on break between semesters.

So, I grabbed my yellow pad and pencil and started writing. I wrote about a man going down hill very fast on a push bike (so called by the Europeans). It wasn't a story that I was searching for. A story has a beginning, middle and end. This was a back story for what would follow. The description started me asking questions about who was riding, why he was riding, and where he was going. In other words, I didn't say, "Today I'll write a book." I just started answering my own questions and the story flowed from my pencil. One idea begot another. And of course, there had to be a woman involved. (smiling)

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