OOH No Canada

OOH No Canada – The failed border crossing.

I depart Seattle after being a drunken ass at my friend Evans place for a week straight and make my way to Canada. I leave my friends apt very early and arrive, after many transfers, at the entrance to Canada. I smoke all my weed, ditch my pipe and put all knives in backpack for quick access by the border guards. Next,  I exchanged my cash for Canadian and approach the gate. Confused, I go to US entry where they half ass tell me how to enter Canada. I manage to find my way to the walk in terminal where I am summoned to the booth of a beautiful Canadian Border Patrol Officer where she plays 20 questions with me and a male officer takes up

position behind me.

“Any drugs, alcohol, weapons or anything illegal?”, the female officer asks.

“I have a two knives, a hatchet and a flask of rum in my bag. I smoked all my weed and ditched my pipe before coming to the checkpoint.”, I cheerfully respond.

“Why Canada?”, continuing her interrogation.

“Because I hear you have a beautiful country and good people.”

“Where you going?”

“I am going to Alaska to meet up with a friend, find work and do wilderness training.”

“Why Alaska?”

“My friend is a woman I am interested in.”

“Why Canada and have you ever been before?”

“First time in Canada and first time I am trying to use my passport.”

“Why did you get your passport?

Where you going in Alaska and why?

How much cash you got?

You cannot make it with that much.”, she declares.

(Not a question but a statement. Should of been a question because I can go far with none.)

The questions are fired quickly from here. “How are you to travel?


Job in the military?

Life goals?

Favorite color?(not really)

Where you coming from?

Where did you get the kilt?”

(Best and most intelligent question I have recieved on my kilt. )

During the questioning I almost lose myself to hit on a Super Sexy Canadian Border Control Agent. I barely manage to control myself and I let the, whoa, SSCBCA walk by. Never in my life had I wanted to be frisked so bad and never in my life did acting a fool at an international terminal look so appealing. I bark,  under my breath,  and refocus on my current SSCBCA. At this point the female officers asks me to empty my pockets. I laugh because of all the random things I carry in my pockets, of which my camo blouse has many. After emptying my pockets she has me shake out my waistband on my kilt.

More questions!

“How long you been traveling like this?

When you going for life goals?

Why Canada?

Health care?


Last job?

Future work?”, she bombards me even further with questions.

At this point, I understand I am failing her assessment. She gives me a sheet with all the things you need to enter Canada, of which I have none besides the passport. So I am denied entry into “Club Canada” because I did not meet the “dress code”. Mostly it seemed she was more concerned with me trying to get healthcare and steal jobs. Sounds a bit familiar!? Ha!

“You have a spoon and lighter, you know what that makes me think? “, said my SSCBCA.

“That you know I like cake a lot!

Do you guys got cake?”

“Canada has cake.”

“No, do you have cake right now? For me to eat now? That is why I carry a spoon.”

(Did not feel to go threw whole story as to why I carry a spoon.)

“May I go threw the bag?”

(like I got a choice)

“Help yourself.”, knowing full well the big mess that is about to be created when they open my bag.

The female officer instructs me to gather my pocket belongings as she attempts to pick up my bag. The female officer can barely budge my bag so the male officer picks it up and with many grunts he takes over to a table for inspection. They continue their questions, now tag teaming back and forth. These questions have less to do with security and more so just to pass the time. I tell them if my plan for House13oom, my hobo handyman business and the story behind each item I carry. It takes at least thirty minutes to rummage through my belongings and after a quick repack, the female officer gives me a piece of paper that says I “will be allowed to leave Canada.” The officer then escorts me out to the path to re enter US territory. A quick pass thru US customs office and I am back in Sumas, WA.

Sumas is a quaint little town with dirt cheap beer prices, beautiful hills and a snow capped mountain in the distance. I reacquire my pipe from near the abandoned fast food building I chilled at before attempting the border crossing. The building has a table and a wall blocking the view from the back, a great little nook to relax at. Depressed and confused, and I buy a couple beers and drink myself to sleep. The next day I repeat this twice, once in the morning and once at night, All the while racking my head to figure out what I want and how to do it.  I way all my options and toss them out as I find which works out more in long run. I think Work in Washington to get trip to Alaska, go to Wyoming for work or go to Oregon for hippy fest, sightseeing and work towards Alaska. Upon waking the next day, surprisingly not that hungover,  I am feeling great. I still know not what I am to do for long run, so I look at what I can do, which is to head back into Bellingham which is what has to happen either way.

I have a couple hours to use before the next bus so I go searching for cigarette butts. While on my search a gentleman, seeing my quest, gives me a pack. From there I go in search of Wi-Fi. I find it at a local museum but before I can log on a lady informs me that there is soup and food bank going on down the block at the library. Upon arriving I notice they are closing up. I am welcomed very well by the Lions Club that was hosting the event. They load me up on food, dig out the soup from the car and send me off with a big cup of soup. I return to the museum, eat the soup and begin my research for travel plans. While searching I get a video call from the woman I am trying to get to, a very nice surprise. ❤ I find it is fairly cheap to get to Portland, OR and I even got enough cash for it. So, plan as it stands,  Cannon Beach, OR is my next destination. Because a friend has been posting pictures of it, another friend said it is her favorite place in the world and incase I decide to go to the hippy gathering happening soon by Johns Day. I feel I will skip it because feds are all up in the area harassing people. As for a plan it is good enough to remove anxiety and clear my vision some.


~ Thomas Sonic13oom

House 13oom is back online.


I Thomas, aka “Sonic 13oom”, the admin and founder of House 13oom would like to ask for patience as I build and launch this site with the aims of promoting people, ideas and projects.  This year of 2017 has been a wile ride so far. I quit a job at a hostel as a dishwasher and went from California to Hawaii to Wyoming to Texas to Colorado to California. Finally after many months hitch hiking I accepted a job as another dishwasher at a different resort in California. It was a rough transition to go from a week long festival to a job but it was a interesting and rewarding transition, if only for a short time, before beginning my next adventure soon to come.

I will try to play some catch up on my travels and start adding content that I feel represents House 13oom such as, permaculture, green energy, and tiny house communities. I welcome tribe, hecklers and investors to comment and share your ideas. We are all in this together so let us work together to build a booming future. Thank you for your time.

“Sonic 13oom”


Leaving my friends house in Seattle a day later then I planned but I picked a fine day. First time seeing the sun since I arrived in Seattle. I managed to fix a few things while at here so my friend hooked it up with some bus fair and karaoke. My bag blew up all over the place which is the standard. Dragging ass I finally got my shit together and got dropped off on my chosen bus route North to Bellingham, while trying to avoid downtown Seattle. While waiting for my bus I got some food and a fool ran at me. I looked left and right as this guy is fucking guy sprinting at me with what almost appears to be pistols in each hand but are merely phones. He continues his dash at me and all I can think is this is gonna hurt you more than it hurts me. Thankfully he stops a few yards short of me as I square off, read to take him down. He proceeds to stare at me issuing discomforting mumbles as spittle spews from his face. He boards a bus other than my intended and I am able to relax. I am making my way to Everett and prolly going to camp out there tonight when a curious thing happened at the Bellevue transit center. The bus I was intending to catch had a perfectly formed line waiting on the bus. They had to be the most organized group of strangers I have ever seen. A neat shuffle as they boarded the bus, nearly everyone paid with a card for speedy access.

I arrive in Everett an hour past the last bus I could catch north. So I quickly dead drop my night bag and proceed with my laptop bag, which will be my running day bag for now. I follow the little magnet in my head and make it to some WiFi to recon the area and chat with friends. With recon in hand I reacquire my night bag and search for my camp spot, one potential area identified from WiFi access. Location found, secure the area, bunker down. Kinda cold, almost able to not need sleeping bag. But, why even be chilly when you got a warm bag.

Woke up early, then woke up late. A little photo session of the environment I set myself to sleep last night. Then off to the bus terminal. As I walk the short distance down the hill I found myself stunned in awe of the snow capped mountain. Or is it a volcano? Because I thought there was to be one around here. I find that my bus only leaves mornings and afternoons so I must wait till their lunch break is over. I find a spot to repack my bags and put kilt in bag due to nice weather my balls sweats. I meet a few locals and we share of the daily bread. Offerings are passed while a pirate dominates the gathering. He is of much spirit but not one I care to share a ship with. I also meet a woman who tells me her story how her skate board hit her in the head after falling from it going thirty miles an hour. I fell in love with her instantly. Alas it is time to catch the next bus.

The bus ride to Mt. Vernon was a pleasant ride with beautiful views of hills and a brief glimpse of the snow capped mountain thing. I found out the bus goes further north then my current destination of Mt. Vernon. So I continue my ride to Chuckanut and pray I can quickly solicit the money to continue my journey to Bellingham. I arrive in Chuckanut station and meander down the street looking for WiFi or for a spot to fly a sign for my bus fare. Does not take me long to; A) get tired and B) find a spot. I find a nice corner where traffic backs up in front of a 7 Eleven. After grabbing some cardboard from the garbage,I make a sign the reads “Bus and Food”. Within thirty minutes I have a teriyaki dinner and the money for the bus. I hustle back to Chuckanut station to eat, wait on the bus, and give thanks.

Entering Bellingham was an interesting experience. The station is surrounded by niche stores and people with back packs. I quietly mosey around the block and follow the little magnet in my head. I quickly find manpower and labor ready and I also find WiFi to chat with friends and research the area. I log on to find I got a reply from a Rustic Resort I applied at. Nothing I can do about that so when concluding my research and chats I do a walk about downtown Bellingham. So far I like this place. It is sprinkling a little bit and there is a cool damp nip in the air, but otherwise a pleasant evening. I slowly hop from corner to corner, dropping my bags at each stop. I breath deeply of the fresh air and rejoice in the act of being. I get plenty of stares as I walk. Either my kilt, my load, or my Master Claw draws eyes and attention. I speak to only those who ask. I open my mind and heart to what is. After enjoying a guitarist busk for a while I figure I wasted enough time and began to seek camp. I search a while and my first chosen spot was a bust as I was quickly driven off by rain. I scoured a couple blocks before coming to the conclusion to do as the locals so I camped out in a vacant doorand got fairly wet, twice, but thankfully I got it working. I woke fairly dry to ladies with offering of coffee and information, both I wanted. I set out for a cigarette and a place to shave and charge phone. That mission was accomplished at the mission. At lunch I sought coffee for WiFi access to call the Rustic Resort in query of my potential employment. I feel I nail the phone interview and I schedule a Skype interview for the next morning. Wanting the best chance to get the job I decide to race back to Evans for my interview clothes.

While passing thru Everett I rushed to the restroom to expel the 5 coffees I had this morning. On my way out to catch the next bus south I run into the woman from the day before. Her name is Rachel Redland and I was thankful to make her acquaintance once more. Alas I am pressed for time so after some short pleasantries I am on my way. I make it back to Renton with plenty to time to spare. It is raining fairly well as I head to McDonald for some WiFi. I call Evan  to inform him I will be walking up his hill to his house and it should be about an hour till I make it. Three hours later I arrive at Evans after getting super lost and only making it there by locating a WiFi that gave me a temp access. I shower and go to sleep exhausted and happy.

I wake an hour before my interview and prepare as best I can. With positive thoughts comes positive action and the interview goes very well. By the end of the video call we were both laughing and joking and I get the job! I am very excited but I still get some negativity from friends and family. Ooh well, I cannot control their thoughts. I can only decide if I will continue to include them in my life. I have a couple days left in Washington and it has been a great start to my this Boom Adventure

Trips and Tripping

I first had the dream of buying land and building a community that is self sustaining in 2009. The dream has not changed much, but I have. I first had the idea my last year in the US Army. As I was preparing to depart from the military I wanted to find a way to continue to serve my country and help the world as a whole. Because we are all brothers and sisters no matter your creed, color or country. My dream is a grand one, if not a bit crazy. The first goal I had when I left the military was to see the country I went to war for. I wanted to meet the American people. As a veteran we can sometimes feel separate from civilians. Because a civilian will never truly understand the sacrifice our military men and women make everyday. This is a good thing. For the sacrifice these men and women make will hopefully protect Americans from the horror that is war. So I set out to meet people. I traveled from the east coast to the west coast visiting friends and family. I put myself out in the open, living life out of a backpack. Early on the voyage I had funds provided to me by selling my stocks and vacation pay. This lasted me a couple months. But what I truly wanted to experience was how our people treats our poor. I wanted to hitchhike, my worldly possessions on my back, no money in my pockets just me and hope that I find good people at the next hop. Before I began the trip I feared there were no good people left in America. I was pleasantly surprised.

After holding up in Long Beach, Ca for most the winter, I set out North toward Washington state. I got a bus ticket, gifted by a friend I believe, to San Francisco. This would be my introduction to the Drifter life. I arrived in San Francisco with maybe $10, also gifted to me, and little to no idea what I was doing or where I was going. I found my way to “People’s Park” and was astonished at the community I found there, a haven for travelers, drifters, hobos and bums. Food was plentiful at this park and I quickly lost many days talking, joking and learning all I could from the people who inhabited this park. Before I knew it days started turning into weeks. I forced myself to leave this sanctuary lest I never leave. 

The world can seem like a huge place sometimes. Then it can also show you how small it really is. My first objective when I left peoples park was I wanted to see some of the city but my real desire was to walk across the Golden Gate Bridge. I made my way threw the city and made camp at the base of the bridge. The next morning as I aired out my sleep gear and packed my bag at a near by picnic table, I notice a man doing the same at a near by table. I, having plenty of food left I gathered at “People’s Park”, approached the man with the gift of food. He declined but we began to talk. Something was familiar about this man. It didn’t take me long to find out why. I had met this man seven years prior when I took a trip one summer to visit a friend of mine in Hemit, California. I asked the man if his name was Greg, a little surprised and hesitant the man grew suspicious. After explaining who I was we both rejoiced in the small wonder of stumbling into each other. We talk a while, even discussed traveling a bit together, but I had my sights on crossing the bridge. He walked me to the bridge entrance and we parted ways. It still amazes me that I would meet a guy I met seven years earlier as a teen. 

Crossing the Golden Gate on foot was awesome. The view was spectacular and I, being fond of engineering, marveled at the bridge it self. I walked as far as the side walk and the road would allow. Eventually coming to a point where I must find a ride to continue moving forward. The sign I flew was simple, all it read was North. I did not have to wait long before I got picked up. My first hitch was with a white Buddhist woman with a shaved head in complete Buddhist attire driving a VW Van. Being my first time hitch hiking this seemed to be a promising sign of things to come.

I slowly made my way north, preferring to take buses if available. Soon I found myself in Fort Bragg, home to a glass bead beach. It was raining when I arrived and luckly I had a few dollars in my pocket. So I found a local pub to relax a bit and gather info on the area. Several people bought me drinks as I probed people for information. Once I felt I had the information I needed or till my cup ran dry, I made camp in the woods near where I felt I should post up the next day in search of my next hitch. Just so happens that two women from the bar the night prior were on a road trip as well. As they departed Fort Bragg they scooped me up and I layed out in the back of their truck as we drove into the Red Woods of Northern California. A splendid sight to view the large trees white with snow and a view of the ocean off in the distance. My destination was Humboldt county, many people should know what that area is known for and it lived up to its reputation. 

My two angels dropped me off in downtown Arcata, a small hippy town where weed was plentiful. After sharing a couple cigarettes with the locals and each person giving me a handful of green I was over stocked on smokeable. I spent roughly two weeks in the area. The weather was terrible and I still being an Oogle, newbie who only knows what he googles, I sought shelter in emergency shelters during most of the bad weather. Up until this point everything was smooth sailing so I was due for some hardship. After a scary trip into Eureka, a neighboring town full of meth bums, I decided it was time to move on. A local veteran assistance program gifted me a bus pass that I intended to use to get out of town. After sneaking into the local college to use the internet and to check in with the site that I was using to gather knowledge and network with other travelers I found two things that pointed the way to Redding. Several people were planning a get together in Redding and a person was seeking help for her grandmother with help at her diner. The get together was canceled due to rain but I did end up working for the grandmother for a month. The first two weeks I slept on a hill by the railroad tracks and did dishes in the diner. That is till I narrowly avoided getting ambushed by people waiting to jump me as I left for work. After that incident the grandmother let me sleep in the greenhouse in her backyard. Two weeks went by like this till my sister invited me to come visit her in Idaho. Now this was a big detour from my goal of Washington but she is family, I love her and her birthday was close at hand. So I accepted the invitation and she bought me a ticket to Twin Falls, Idaho. She even managed to get me some work on the farm she was working for. Unfortunately the other employee’s got scared I would take their jobs from them, they complained and I was no longer able to work. Next my sister began being very hateful and mean. I had a buddy recently get out of the military and was driving home to Washington. He decided to detour and visit me at my sisters. An action I bet he still regrets. My sister made a huge scene and ruined the whole experience. 

As I began to set my sights on Washington again news came that my niece was to graduate high school the next month. So I had my sister drop me off in a town the general direction I felt I should go to get to my niece who lived in Cody, Wyoming. I figured it would take about a month to get there. After a month living indoors I was not used to traveling on foot with a 60lb bag on my back. I was having no luck with hitching a ride and ended up traveling mostly on foot. I tried to average forty miles a day. Unfortunately my body fought back. My hip began to hurt severely. I had hoped to get to a small town near the border of Idaho and Wyoming but progress was slow. Resources were getting thin. Just as I thought I could go no further a man approached me and offered to buy me a good meal. I graciously accepted. We talked a while and he offered me a ride to the town I sought. He even made some calls to get me in a shelter there. I try to avoid shelters but I needed some time to recover. After a week I began to feel a little better and began getting anxious to start my trip again. I gathered up my belongings and walked out of town, in search of a place to find a hitch going east into Wyoming. I walked as far as I could before my hip began to hurt again. The pain unbearable I sat on the side of road tears from pain turned into tears of sadnesses. Reality finally pericing my world. “You are a fool for doing this. Why are you doing this to yourself?” My thoughts begin to attack me. Close to the edge of breaking, a car pulls up. A Mexi”can” hauing a sweet muscle car pulls up and offers me a ride. He explains he is not going super far, but he will take me as far as he can. Any distance I could put myself away from the current darkness I found on that corner was welcomed. The gentleman smoked me out and dropped me off as far as he could. Miraculously the herb had numbed most the pain and I was able to walk. I walked for hours, thumbs up at each sound of a cars approach from behind. Eventually I stopped putting my thumb up, the effort to do so was more energy then I had. Content to my walk, I walked. “One more mile Tommy. You can do it. Just make it to the top of that hill and you can rest.” Motivating me to keep going, each time reaching my goal and extending it further. For I knew if I stopped I may not get going again. I came to a place I thought about making camp for the night. After sitting a while in contemplation, I stood up gathered my gear and set to walking again. There was day light left and I intended to use it. I only made it maybe a hundred yards before a truck pulled over. A Hispanic guy and his daughter. The man didn’t speak English so the daughter was our translator. He agreed to take me to the border but ended up taking me two hours out of his way to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Upon arriving he gave me some cash which went towards restocking my food supplies. The next day I attempted to walk around town but my hip pain was getting the best of me. Reluctantly I entered the local shelter where I spent nearly two weeks recovering. After two weeks I was feeling better. I gathered up my bag and set north out of town. Before reaching the location I intended to hitch from a Native American man picked me up. I nearly declined his offer because I still wasn’t sure if I wanted to walk instead. He convinced me to join him. Thank God for that! Buffalo were not too far down the road and are known for their aggressive behavior. Next we entered a snow storm that was approaching. After we got past the snow storm he pulled over at a landmark on the side of the road. He had me read the sign. The sign spoke of a battle that was fought on a plateau between the Crow tribe and a conglomerate of tribes allied against the Crow. The chief of the Crow was killed and his heart was removed and placed on a spear. The chief who killed the Crows leader and took his heart was given the name “Crow Heart”. This is when my escort showed me his ID. His last name was Crow Heart and that was his grandfather. He drove me as far as he could and dropped me off at a major stop. The next ride was not as pleasant but nearly as interesting.

The next gentleman to pick me up was a 9/11 was done by our own government nut. I almost got out right away. After a wacky ride he dropped me off in Riverton, Wyoming. I went to local bar to gather information and seek a possible ride to next town. I was offered a ride but the ride bailed out last minute. I set out on foot and put many miles between me and Riverton before a blizzard hit. I made a hut out of tumble weeds on side of road and called it a night. The next day was bad. The blizzard was dropping tons of wet slush. Cars driving by were washing me in waves of slushy wet snow. To make matters worse my boots had developed a kink and was cutting into the back of my foot. After walking for hours making very little progress, with cold entering my bones and my foot ravaged by the boot, I had to admit when I was beat. If I remained on the road I would surly freeze to death. Beaten by the weather I approached the first house that looked occupied and asked of them to call for emergency pick up to a town. A policeman picked me up and delivered me to a shelter in Riverton where I sat out the storm. Once the storm cleared a lady from the shelter gave me a lift to Thermopolis, a town know for its hot springs. I fully intended to check out the hot springs but once there I quickly found a ride with a truck driver to my destination of Cody, Wyoming. The truck driver was a woman in charge of assigning bulls to riders at the rodeo that was set to begin soon in Cody. 

Destination reached with a week to spare before my niece was to graduate. I found the VFW there to be very helpful and friendly. Not many veterans frequented the VFW so many took a liking to me. Only incident was when a woman accused me of taking advantage of people. I explained that I avoid asking for money and often I would decline offers because I was stocked with my needs. I got sick shortly after arriving so the bartender let me stay in her basement as I recovered and waited for my nieces graduation. I am thankful I was able to attend. 

I began this in attempt to tell you about why I created “House 13oom”. I want to help people and I figured the best way to start is to meet people, to walk a mile in a poor mans shoes. It was an inspiration and motivating experience that restored my faith in humanity. It taught me a lot about the American people. It taught me that poor people are often the most generous and that rich religious people can be the most hateful. But the main thing I learned is that good people do exist and that getting out of your comfort zone is the only way to grow. I started my adventure with a goal of Washington and ended up in Wyoming. I was battered by family and loved by strangers. Family does not require blood ties. Family is a bond, a trust of cooperation. Family is love. I may not of made it to Washington, but I found where I was going. Life has detours but with persistence you will reach your destination.

Think, Plan, Action

For the last several months I have been building up my knowledge of gardening and building houses. My first garden was successful. The garden was producing about 20 to 30 cherry tomatoes a day and 3 to 6 Zucchini each week.

I was able to do some work on a small house and hooked up the power from the main resident. Unfortunately I am unskilled at plumbing so the house has no bath room. However, I did learn a lot about the construction of such a small house. Building small houses and renting them to people of low income is a major goal of House 13oom. 

I have been in communication with many buddies from the military discussing the how, the means, and why this program is needed. Many agree this is a good idea, unfortunately none wish to commit to the work required to accomplish it. One friend received 20k and approached me with the idea of starting up the program in Arizona. By building with dirt and mud we could create living and work areas for a fraction of the price to build with traditional lumber. After a month of discussion and planning he flipped the script and decided to purse a fight for custody of his child. I tried to argue the point that by building a home and business is exactly how you do that. He would hear nothing of it and now has spent the majority of his money on drugs and alcohol. 

I am currently in process moving out of my apartment. I received an eviction notice from management when I called the police ON management because he was harassing a man and causing a disturbance while attempting to start a physically altercation. The eviction was not legal but instead of trying to fight it I was able to get the lease agreement nullified. 

Recently one friend invited me to move in with him and we began discussing his idea to build small houses to be sold and shipped. With great effort on my part I was able to get us a basic plan formed for the business, all the while he implores  me to move there. Already hesitate from his avoiding business discussions, preferring to chase his next sexual conquest, I wished to discuss how he saw my arrival going at his location. This is when he said getting a woman to date him was more of a priority, when hours before was move here quickly. Disappointed, I realized his priority was sex. Leaving me upset that I wasted 3 days planning and working toward a goal that was a mirage. I am thankful I learned that before commiting myself to a move. 

What I have come to learn is people love to talk about doing work till the work shows up. I do not believe this person to be lazy, because he does more work then I, but I feel people does not wish to sacrifice for their goals and are to caught in the trap that is our basic desires. I am disappointed but I did learn a lot about planning, goal setting, and dealing with people.

 I will have no housing soon but what I do have is a more valuable. I have my freedom and faith that God will place me where I am needed. 

The Dream

House of Boom is my dream to own land, research and produce green energy, develop cheap housing materials and methods, and grow food and develop better ways to do so. As well as build a big robot, a spaceship, and ways to help the community

Step One! Secure the Land
Step Two! Build a Pyramid
Step Three! Build a Farm
Step Four! Build Housing
Step Five! Repeat