We were somewhere around Barstow, on the edge of the desert, when the
drugs began to take hold. I remember Lobster
saying something like:

When my left foot stepped on the hoop, it immediately flipped up
perpendicular to the ground. By this time, my right foot was already
moving through the air, and entered the hoop, which was firmly anchored
to the ground by my body weight.

All within a single ohnosecond, I stumbled, and as my right foot came
off the ground, the hoop was yanked up and over my foot by the force of
my left leg moving forward.

At this point my upper body was still making onward progress at walking
pace, while woefully at the same time my ankles were firmly anchored
together by the plastic hoop. So naturally, down I went in the manner
of a felled telegraph pole.

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