Weirdo on drugs visits my campsite in north Boulder

By Max R. Weller

Feeling very poorly due to the crud I picked up a week ago during my morning visit to Boulder Shelter for the Homeless, I crawled into my burrow about 2PM yesterday afternoon and promptly fell asleep. About 9:30 last night, I was awakened by a transient trying to climb over the barbed-wire fence just a few feet away from me. I stared at him, after throwing off my tarp, then I rubbed my eyes to make sure they were working and I stared at him some more.

He was carrying what looked like the headboard to a queen-size bed.

After he’d gotten my attention, he moved on down the fence line to a spot where several loads of dirt have been dumped on the CDOT lot. He set his headboard down, then picked it up again and started wandering around the dirt piles, almost as if he were trapped IN A MAZE as well as being in a daze.

I knew it had to be drugs of some sort. I resisted the urge to laugh at him, because these drunks/druggies have been known to pull out a knife and stab innocent people who do so — remember Johnny Mack Rasnick, who was fatally stabbed by Charles “Eddy” Waters as he was sleeping? Mr. Rasnick had laughed at Mr. Waters earlier in their drunken evening together with a third man (also stabbed by Waters, but he survived).

I didn’t even speak to this individual, nor did he utter a word to me.

After a while, he put down the headboard and went to retrieve his backpack nearby. I just pulled the tarp back over my head and returned to sleep. I didn’t notice him around when I left my campsite about 5:20AM, but it was still very dark. I’m hoping he left during the night, and won’t return to steal my camping gear this morning as I’m otherwise occupied.

Another example of why I say that Boulder, CO has a greater proportion of people from all walks of life under the influence of various drugs than any other city in my experience.

I hope the guy didn’t freeze to death, either, but those who are non compos mentis for any reason are often unable to care for themselves.

My friend Terzah, who camped with me one night last summer and has said she wants to do so again, misses out on all the fun; she didn’t get to see the mule deer up close then, and now has missed out on the Queen-size Headboard Man.


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