3/28/08: Ethel, LA- The Carnie Life

Been gone 10 days already. It's been a week since we all left Odessa. Time has compressed; a lot happens in a short space of time. I feel like I've known Jimmy for six months or a year, and it's only been barely a week. Tricia -- same thing. I feel as though we've run a full two-month cycle in six days. When you're in each other's face all day I guess that happens.

I can see how a person could lose track of days, weeks, even months out here. I haven't watched TV or listened to a radio since I left; have no idea what's going on-- anywhere. This is the world to these folks and it's not a bad way to live once you adapt. I think the trick is finding balance in the sense that you remember: this isn't the world! It is easy to get caught up in the camp-drama, which is worse when everyone's idle. Once we start working people get focused on other things and forget, for the moment, all the bullshit.

The mix of people is interesting. Convicts, punks, philosophers, thinkers, feelers, recluses. It's a challenge for many of them to mesh and get along, but although the "dogs bark," they seem to work it out. There really are no leaders, work or otherwise, among this crew; Willie is the foundation and a rocksolid one. He's the lighthouse that provides guidance for many of these fragile types who easily stray off course. I learned that he provided dental work for one of them; could never see Charles doing that.

Tuesday's set-up wiped me out! I wasn't feeling great to begin with, and hauling the heavy pieces for the Merry-Go-Round pushed me. My back held up and was nothing more than stiff on Wednesday. We finished setting up Wednesday, tweaked a couple things yesterday, then a much anticipated laundry/Wal-Mart run. I needed socks, Motrin, and some aloe for this vicious sunburn on my neck. After resting up for a bit, we opened at five o'clock yesterday. I was on a kiddie ride: The Berry- Go- Round. It was easy -- even boring. Lotsa single moms to chat with; a few even had teeth!

What struck me was the people. Louisiana is a very friendly and polite state. The poverty here is striking, yet the people have an air of both frustration and happiness. Resignation, yet acceptance. That was only one day, of course, and may change. But it's something I repeatedly noticed. The poverty, especially. Kids offering to work, in exchange for free rides! (They got quite a few) Calling me "sir!" It's pretty obvious that this is a huge event out here, as small as our outfit really is. We are situated on the grounds of a church camp that I learned is for the kids "no other churches want." Drugs... what ever. The pastor is a Vietnam vet who seems to view the government the same way I do, and intensely feels social injustice. I immensely enjoyed hearing him talk -- almost rant.

My time here will depend on me. The work is easy most of the time, and I'm adapting more each day. I'm afraid I won't save much money, though, so if the chance at [the supposed job in] Michigan comes, I'll probably take it. I'm in cruise control about the hike since Sunday. It still is the long-term vision. Need to refocus on that...

3/24/08: Ethel, LA- A New Reflection in the Mirror

We packed and "jumped" up here this morning/afternoon. We're through Baton Rouge, and in the middle of nowhere. Reminds me a little of Michigan in how green and rural it is, and the actual location reminds me of some of the New Mexico holes-in-the-wall. I guess we'll set up shop here through the weekend, then go back to Baton Rouge for a time.

Nothing much is happening today at all. Willie is most definitely organized and, so far, outside of the pseudo-drama. I can handle this. I'm obviously seeing some places I'd never go otherwise, and there are some good people here. I'm slowly adjusting and getting used to everything and everyone. I've yet to read one page in a week, and plotting what to mail home.

Tricia and I were on the verge; one push away-- from stepping off of here. The Synchronicity aspect of things was a hot topic yesterday, and still is in a way. It occurred to me that the trip I foresaw had already begun. Maybe I won't be going "back." I seem to have found a travel partner or two if things were to start today, but then again we've had a lot of idle time. When things get busy people -- including me -- may revert back to their individual ideas.

Tricia is a bit of a split personality depending on who she's with. Yesterday was incredibly cool, but last night she ran to her gin and there was the carnie- redneck again. She doesn't seem to know exactly who she is. Who does at 22? Jimmy's a bit different, and I'm not sure how our story is going to to end. He's 46, smart in a lot of ways, and seemingly a good friend. Yet, yesterday annoyed me. A lot. All day drunks just bug me now. I'm sick of his "taking care of each other" line, which equates to me buying his shit, giving him cigarettes, and then having his sloppy, drunken ass spill beer on me!

Karma's paying me back... the bitch.

I'm not sure what to make of this part of my personality. It's quite surprising, and I don't like the hypocritical and judgmental tendencies. I've found new things about myself; some very good. I have discipline all of the sudden. And, I seem to be pretty focused and anxious to start my trip. I've been more open and honest with people than I remember... with the exception of Skippy. That honesty is at times a blunt hammer. I've gotten quite terse with Jimmy over the last two days and my impatience and temper with the Killer Queens needs checking. I'm sick of Timmy's posturing displays, and it's obvious that despite the bark, he'll cower at a challenging growl. We're about to find out. Yet, I seem to have settled in here for the near future. I need money. I've found a few good people, even heard from Steve today. This may be home for little while.

3/23/08: A New Orleans Easter- Jimmy & Trisha

**It's poorly articulated here, but this would turn out to be one of those monumental days that resound and echo indefinitely.**

Well... things here are different! Jimmy and I got what we were looking for: a change from Odessa, and we got it for sure!

This outfit is much smaller and much less... intense... then Texas. We got into New Orleans on-time, called Willie from the bus station, he then sent two guys to pick us up. The vibe was instantly better. Much more positive. We both had a great feeling about this decision and were quite happy to get here. We chatted with Willie in person on Saturday, and since today is Easter and his family is here, haven't really seen him since.

We all seemed to get along well last night and met some pretty good people, one in particular -- Tricia. She would seem to be in the same mold as Carrie and Sarah, yet a great deal different. She is exactly the opposite of those two in almost every way! She's from Little Rock, Arkansas and just a good ol' ... girl. Yet, she's also tuned in. She "gets it", doesn't realize it -- yet she does. She's aware and trying to process and define what she's aware of. Been there. She wants to travel; suffers from that same affliction I do. She's frustrated and seems ready to do something about it. It was odd when I first got here; we were immediately drawn (not physically... pervert) to each other. It's like there is an internal guide pointing out the right people and the situations in which to find them. My mystical senses are returning to a degree; paying attention to these "coincidences." Steve, Jim, Tricia. I thoroughly enjoyed this trip so far, for the most part.

There are some twisted, ironic, some would say comical shades McComb [MS, 2005, following Katrina] here in relation to my friendship with Trish. The gay guys here are pissed off! And, so are the straight ones! The gay guys are gnarled up because they viewed me as their "fresh fish!" Of course, the breeders are pissed off because they've been trying to get on Tricia since she first got here and now she's begun to use me as sort of a shield! I find it hilarious! There are rumors etc. already; it's pretty pathetic and drives me up the wall.

I'm getting in tune with myself too, I'm aware of my reactions to all of this. My mindset is slowly adapting to my surroundings and my tolerance level is sinking. I have become more aware of who I am and how that differs from past experiences. My personality also seems to be changing more & more as I adapt. I've become more honest, much more open with some people, and seem to have developed some bizarre leadership qualities from my experiences over the past few years. I don't bother with the idiots, charlatans, posers and punks. I blatantly disengage from them and gravitate back to the ones that posses some kind of character and honesty; and I don't care about hurting feelings in the process. I'm looking for "my people" and not really bothering with the rest.

I feel myself becoming more a more direct. For example, Jimmy drank pretty much all day [after the levee experience- below], and it bothered me. Not that he drank, but that he drank and was trying to communicate. I can't hold any of that against him, but it's a mirror of myself from not so long ago. I can't stand being sober and dealing with drunks anymore. In fact, it's been a long time since I could, but now I have next to no tolerance. I'm doing to some people what Danny, Dyson, Jason, Greg, and others did to me: judging. I don't really like that, but it's happening. Tricia got lit up tonight and was passed out by 7:30. After the day we had, it was a study in extremes and bothered me a bit, although I was more forgiving of her because in the short time I've been here, our friendship has caused her much grief for no reason, and she needed the escape.

I have hardly eaten anything since leaving NM last week; I'd love to get on a scale. I must be in that 165-pound range by now. I've had 2 cups of Ramen Noodles today, and a few M&Ms. I've also discovered how much shit I really do have... and shouldn't. My backpack is 45 pounds, and I need to ship some stuff home. It's rather hard to keep all that shit organized, let alone keep track of it.

Today was an interesting, enlightening, and frustrating day all wrapped into one. Jimmy took Tricia and I across the adjacent road to the levee the banks of the Mississippi River, letting us sit in on one of his Indian rituals where he says he "asks the spirits for guidance." We sat inside of a natural circle depressed into the grass, and just talked and bonded -- just the three of us. Afterwards he said our Indian names were Little Feather and Run with the Wind. While I sat there playing with a twig, they both looked at me with an odd, astonished look and said I was doing some kind of Indian weave -- something I had never heard of. I really had no idea what I was doing, but just thought it looked cool. We went out there about 9:30 and didn't come back -- didn't leave the circle -- until 3:30. Just talking, lying on the grass in the sun. Had the day ended then, it was one of the best of days. I felt so at peace and comfortable... with both myself and them. It was a tiny taste of that experience I've been craving. No distractions or bullshit obligations. Just me, my people, and out in my place being -- me. It was the closest thing to Nirvana I can probably get, and it occurred to me that I may have already started my adventure. I felt free and unmolested!

Then, as soon as we rejoined the herd, a relative black energy/vibe returned. As soon as we crossed the road! I won't elaborate on more of the drama inside Winter Quarters this Easter Night, but it provided something that, using the first part of the day, could have been a case study in extremes. It got to the point where Trish and I discussed, and even tentatively decided, to leave here tomorrow and "just go." She says she wants to today. She says she wants to go with me when I/we begin my/our trip. But, of course she'd like to work it out so we stay on for a few months to get cash together.

We'd both like Jimmy to be with us if he chooses to, and if today was an anomaly (the drinking). If not, I don't think we will be doing anything together after New Orleans is done. He's a wonderful guy, yet one who's battling something within. He has much to offer, yet also has that self-destructive air about him when he drinks. If both he and Tricia could keep handles on that, I'd be fine and would love for us to keep it together.

The view from here regarding the "backpack trip" is a bit different. I could see the three of us doing it, but believe Jimmy will carry on his way. And Tricia may remain here, or just go home to be near her son in Arkansas. I don't really know. I just feel that I've met some wonderful people in the five short days I've been gone. I feel like I'm on the right course and can see some possibilities. It'll be interesting to see what else develops. So far, this trip's been exactly what I need, and I still find it remarkable that I'm in New Orleans. New Mexico feels remote and far away today. We'll see how it all goes; off to Baton Rouge in the morning.

3/22/08: Escape from Odessa- Jimmy & Steve

Greyhound between Baton Rouge and New Orleans, Louisiana

Long story short: I met two other guys. Jimmy and Steve are both from Oklahoma, and after Steve was pushed for the 5th time to buy cocaine, we called Mike [recruiter] told him what was going on, and requested that he get us out of there. We all decided to ride together to New Orleans and hook up with another outfit with a friend of Mike's, Willie. I asked direct questions and let those two listen so they could decide for themselves. Mike bought the tickets, we packed up, and while we were waiting Steve's mother called to tell him that his father had died! Of course, that sent him back to Oklahoma. Steve's a lot like me with the indecisiveness, only worse! And much more tentative. He's just a country boy who's never been away for long, so he was apprehensive. It may have been good for him to come down here and live a little, and he still may. I sensed something familiar in him, and deeply respected his independence. The three of us had a nice synergy, and could have been good friends -- all of us. I'm rather surprised at how good of friends we became anyhow. I hope things in New Orleans are as Willie and Mike say they are, and if so, I also hope that Steve comes down here in a couple of weeks.

Jimmy and I are very similar in many ways, although our backgrounds are very different. He's Chickasha Indian and abhors drugs because his son committed suicide while on them. That was the common thread between we three that got us hanging out in the first place. We were the minority who weren't looking to work then simply get fucked up up afterwards -- calling that life. Wash-rinse-repeat. One of my goals/hopes was to find some like-minded people I could relate to, and after 2 1/2 days in a traveling drug-den, I found some. That's encouraging.

Jimmy's 46, and has been living with a nomadic life for some time now. He's been all over and has tons of experience that he's willing to share. He's respectful, and deserves respect. We talked a lot last night between Odessa and Dallas having much to chat about; our ideas parallel each other in many ways. Like me he relishes freedom above most everything. We are both cautiously excited about New Orleans and since we have the night off, and a little money, are planning on Bourbon Street later tonight.

To put a bow on the Odessa experience, they did pay us what they owed us, minus $15 for "rent" in the bunkhouse: another monetary surprise. In retrospect it was fitting! Outside of the drug culture, the main theme of that outfit was the fact that they found new and exciting ways, every day, to surprise you with new ways to shrink your paycheck! "Paying the bus ticket", "security deposit", "key deposit, shirt, etc.... none of which was explained beforehand. Then condescending and indignant when you asked questions. No leadership. People screaming and knife fighting and 5 a.m. outside the bunkhouses. (I was more concerned with the screaming-- if someone was cut, eventually they'd at least be quiet) To be fair, it is the stereotype and not completely unexpected; just not for me.

Despite all that, I told Jimmy last night I wouldn't trade it. I did meet some good people, and most importantly I didn't run home, although the thought did occur to me Thursday! I got through it and found that I enjoyed the actual work -- when the public's there. I made a little money, and am now having another experience in New Orleans. My spirit through all of this has been remarkably high -- even through the bullshit. I feel in control of my life, and at ease with myself, my surroundings and others. Looking forward. Let's see what happens in New Orleans...

3/21/08: Odessa, TX- Meet the Carnie

Odessa, Texas
Greyhound station

I haven't written in this [travel journal] in 16 months for pretty good reason. It's become something of a relic of this journey, one I don't want to fill with trivial bullshit. I left Santa Fe for the carnie job Tuesday (3/18) and came to Odessa with one idea how things were supposed to be : then the quick reality!

Shalain took me to the Albuquerque Greyhound, and I found myself nervous; getting worse the closer to Albuquerque we got. Just as the bus began pulling away, Bob Seger's Roll Me Away came on my MP3 player. That seemed to tell me: "relax; now write your story." Look forward and live it. There was a huge moon, so I could see New Mexico all the way to El Paso and felt legitimately optimistic. Excitement about what was coming, and a shot at freedom. The landscape, moon... all tuning me in --in some ways.

We arrived in Odessa at 10:30 or so, and immediately after I got here with my bunkmate, Dan, it became obvious that either Mike or Charles was simply full of shit; likely both. After being on the bus for 13-hours, Charles put us right to work (doing next to nothing) for three hours. We then got an hour off before the carnival opened-- then worked another nine. 13-hours every day--Monday through Friday -- then 14 to 15 on Saturday and Sunday. For a base salary of $300 per week. Do the math. Plus there is no time to yourself except with the alcoholics, and druggies etc., who just live to get lit up then wonder why they are broke. Reality meet stereotype! It would have been great living here 15 or 20 years ago, but I'm not living in that spot anymore. Just annoyed the fuck out of me and made me uncomfortable as hell...

**Bus arrived**

11/30/07: FIRED!

*Journal*

November 30, 2007 Saturday

Fired! Cut loose! The Santa Fe experiment came to an abrupt end today. What a week! Also, found out for sure that we'll have to put our new kitten down due to FIP, something I'd never heard of. Such a sweet cat too.

Overall, things are pretty positive. Shalain was prepared in some sense, because I told her about the dreams I had been having about getting fired. I wish I could figure them out; these dreams were dead -on. I've had several over the past 10-years that ended up manifesting in reality. Part of me wonders if it is simply self-fulfilling visions, or if they really are premonitions. One way or another, I knew this was coming. Shalain was pretty shocked yesterday when I [told] her. Combined with Pip, not a great week for either of us. It's going to get worse today if we decide to put him down.

12/1/07: I suppose I should recap my feelings from yesterday. First, then try to reconcile where I am today and where I may be going. When Skippy said, "I don't have good news for you." I said, "I know." And when he said, "Today will be your last day with us" I felt a sense of relief! Just like the dreams. As Moonglow [my landlord/ friend/ future litigant] pointed out: "liberation!" All of a sudden... I saw possibilities. The first of which was K***, and the program Moonglow came up with, "Generations." Also, I felt as though a chain had been removed. The analogy I used yesterday was... like throwing a drowning man a life preserver. All of the accumulated stress just evaporated, and my energy level skyrocketed. After I laughed ... Shalain saw how positive I was and I think that helped.

That initial euphoria: What does that say!? I was neither crushed, devastated, nor even shocked; just relieved! I wish I had been writing constantly throughout because it would all be here, but it's obvious now that I failed myself, but NOT by my actions here. I stood by what I believed and was willing to "go down" for it. No, where I've failed was in the weeks and months leading up to the move. I saw, heard, and ignored the warning signs from Isaac and Skippy. Isaac's inconsistencies should have been more disturbing. I love the guy, but he's checked out, and the inability to show how I was going to be working with him should have been a huge red flag. I never planned, nor had aspirations to be Production Director, although I didn't mind that in the end. I wanted to work with, and learn from Isaac on K***. Remember? The other huge warning flag came from Skippy at the Cowgirl [restaurant] just before the move. When he went into his diatribe about "getting the men, getting" the women," he sounded like every other despicable salespig I've worked with. I didn't bother to speak out or press on what specifically he was going to "provide to the community."

As time one on, it became clear that he was dragging the same steaming pile of corporate media into town; just simply calling it something else. We all bought into it, and with few exceptions, sensed the same sinking feeling about the same time. All the talk about forgetting Arbitron? Bullshit. That's all Skippy talked about in the last month whenever I tried to chat with him. Chasing a ghost fluttering through a flawed system. Then the offering of renamed "Stock Options"; all the while touting yourself as non-corporate! And, the classic "we're not going to be sales whores" line. HA! I should have known better, and to a degree I did. After Cowgirl, I never bought completely into it, but the phrase remained in my head and bubbled to the resentful surface whenever the foreclosure-profiteering spots [commercials] came up.

Then, Pip. I know that [Skippy] had no way of knowing, but I got him from the Humane Society when they brought him in to the station. They were trying to put a sick cat into a listener's home! Perhaps technically they ...aren't required to act on that, but the machine never paused. It was all about the appearance of community service, regardless of the actual level or quality of service. Why am I so surprised and/or disillusioned by this? I should have expected it, but it goes back to the sales pitch we were all given before the sale: "Giving back."

But what?

To whom?

The talk was remarkable, even by salespig standards. Yet the product to this point was sterile typical showbiz variety fluff. The other area in which I've failed was taking on the morning show, and getting involved with Little Miss Sunshine (program director). There is no way I had a prayer of surviving that relationship!. Of course, I had a few arguments with the two slimiest of the salespigs regarding "getting on board." etc., but Little Miss Sunshine was different. I have absolutely no respect for him. None. Our relationship was as toxic than the worst in Kalamazoo, Benton Harbor, or the Sea Hag in Ft. Walton Beach. We had days or weeks where we'd get along, but what else can come from a relationship where the morning host utterly refuses advice, guidance, or direction from his program director? It's going to fail. It failed.

The one piece that I can't quite reconcile is the conversation a few weeks ago with Skippy, where I tried to quit the morning show and sever my direct dealings with Little Miss Sunshine. He acted like I was shitting on, or quitting the company! Mind-boggling! When he removed me from Radio Free Santa Fe, he rationalized that he hired me as Production Director; yet getting off KV** was some huge drama! You would think that I had raped his dog, and he was jealous he didn't get to her first.

So, what now? Hard to say. Moonglow offered to contact KS** in hopes of getting a paying gig there. And, there is always the chance for us to do our own little show. I do know that today, December 1, 2007, corporate media is dead to me. There is no Utopia. There is no commercial outlet that stands for anything. They all tout it but when you're inside, it's all presentation -- image to increase revenues. Now it's time to evaluate while it's still fresh. What I've learned. Where I failed. Where I've made self-destructive mistakes. Am I accurately making distinctions between principled behavior and the self-destructive tendencies? There may be a combination of both at work here. I know that my blatant lack of respect for Little Miss Sunshine is not systemic. Bryant, Tim, Isaac, Ray, Sam, Murph.. No, I despised him because he is perpetuating what's cancerous about the media. He claims to care about the product, yet has no clear ideas about what that product should be. He offers someone elses quotes, tired failed or failing quotes and professes wisdom without the ability to create an original thought. To be fair, I've recently lost the ability [motivation], once so strong, to be able to articulate my own ideas. I've quit writing, reading (for the most part), and only recently have begun to have meaningful discussions with outside-the-structure thinkers: Moonglow, Ellen, Joe...sort of ...

6/10/07: Santa Fe- Inclinations & Rationalization

*Journal*

I'm really fighting some doubt right now. It's centered on the radio station, and considering I haven't even started, I'm annoyed. I can't shake the feeling that I've bound myself into something that's different than what I expected and wanted. I've been exposed to too many business-minded people; talking about "sales & revenue" like their running a fucking 7-11.

I haven't really looked that hard at why I avoided the [optional, uncompensated] airshift last week. It felt completely foreign... like I wasn't prepared for it. I'm not part of that team yet. I'm still "on-deck"; don't quite feel like I belong there. This is NOT how I envisioned this going! Where's the excitement? Where's the passion? Enthusiasm? Energy? I don't understand why I'm still in such a state of limbo. Am I that far off course? Have I been kidding myself? What exactly will it take for me to engage? Have I been out of radio too long? Am I beyond jaded? Jaded to the point where I can no longer function? "Functioning" is not an option. I must pull myself up and get busy. For better or worse.

I had not expected this. I figured that when I got here, I 'd be raging to get going.

Yes, I'm frustrated. Intimidated. Doubting myself., and wondering if I've gotten lost. I have changed a lot since we were in New Mexico before. I see the city [Santa Fe] as a money trap. The marketed mirage of an idea. A mirage that evaporates upon examination into nothing more noble than image-driven commerce. A lack of authenticity. A city of contradictions all concealed beneath a veil of contrived "culture" and "mystique." The energy [I've felt] is still here, but it doesn't emanate from the plaza [or Canyon Rd.]. It's elsewhere, which is why, I think, I wanted to live out here [in Pojoaque].

So, Todd, what is it that's not quite right? I've had the recurring dream: cracking the mic and not being able to finish a sentence. Not being able to communicate effectively. Having no control of my voice, both literally and figuratively. I have to honestly evaluate what it is I hope to "be" here, then decide how to get there. I came to Santa Fe, ultimately, to be part of something authentic. That word again! To integrate with whatever it was that I perceived was organic; a significant step toward singularity. I feel as though whenever I get close to hitting on something, I get yanked back... like I have a intermittent or bad connection.

What's my voice become over the last few years? Dissent is an obvious choice, but my politics and sociology have become muddled over the... months. And, what if I don't mesh with this "community?" I'm not a business person; I'm barely a capitalist anymore!

Let's be realistic: no one there is REALLY doing ANYTHING! I don't need to blow anyone away. I don't know to what preconceived standard I'm holding myself, but it shouldn't be so daunting...

5/11/07: Denver- Red Flags

2 1/2 months since I've written... on hold waiting for K*** (radio station) to come through. Mentally, I've checked out. I've also started smoking again. Cigars were my undoing. They got to be more and more until I realized that I might as well just smoke. A few mental earthquakes sealed their fate, and I essentially became a regular smoker again about three weeks ago.

Life at [with the Rockies at] Coors Field is stable. I chatted with them about [the move to] Santa Fe right off the bat, and they have no problem with me working all the way up until we leave. The Giants are in town w/ Barry Bonds. He's 10 away from Hank Aaron, and hitting well! Clint Hurdle [won't] pitch to him. How annoying! Two more after tonight [Tim Lincecum's first ML win], then Arizona's in next week. I finally get to see Randy Johnson. I've really enjoyed the ballpark again this year. I attribute it to the fact that I'm not emotionally attached to the job. I know I'm leaving and just want to enjoy it.

... For the next three weeks, my focus is Santa Fe. The ownership plan has changed and the station will now be part of a group rather than a stand-alone. I'm rather disappointed with that. The challenge is trying to figure out how things will go with the new owner [Skippy]. Supposedly, "nothing's going to change" [from the original plan] but we need to begin getting specifics. I's been strangely ambiguous about how things will shake out. I think I've theoretically held every shift on K***; his preference for me appears to be, of all things, mornings. Apparently they're letting the current host go. I have no idea... it seems a bit odd that he has no clear plan for his station after the purchase.

I don't know what to think or to expect. The initial "high" of moving back to New Mexico is wearing off... The long process [since February] has sapped most of the excitement, but I'm still looking forward to it. I need to begin to get mentally prepared to do radio again... to MOVE again. I'm getting a bit nostalgic about Denver. We've really enjoyed it here. Colorado's a nice place to live!

11/6/06: Bike Tour- An Inevitable End

There are elements of these last two posts that echo and resonate loudly years later. Some things are seared into your consciousness. This period was huge. - td 12/23/09

*Posted to Crazy Guy on a Bike*

15 miles (24 km) - Total so far: 97 miles (156 km)

My leg of the trip is over.

It's taken me a week to figure out what to do with this journal. It occurred to me that I could delete it, or simply let it fade into the abyss of cyberspace, but I've also noticed that there are very, very few, if any, journals completed after one has 'failed'. Plus, it's a good example to set for others: perfection is NOT required for membership. In the interest of honesty, and hopefully as some sort of a humble service to others who may be contemplating such a trip, I decided that brutal, humble- honesty is the noblest of paths.

So, here's a dose of humility: I never had a prayer!

The first day of the trip was fine, as you may have read. However the next day was a different story on several levels. First: significant 'disconnect'. I began to sense that the trip had morphed into something it wasn't intended to be. Getting lost in the 'how' rather than the 'why'. Over a few months, I had gotten lost on that level to a degree I wasn't even aware of. I wasn't happy with the route, destination, the pace from having another rider, and even the mundane particulars of this particular tour. Something was just wrong! I would have been fine and kept going; adapted and adjusted. However, one we reached Franktown, and turned east on Hwy. 86 there came the hills...

I expected hills. I had lightened my load significantly, and while I knew they'd be difficult, I had SEVERELY overestimated my physical conditioning. The 9 miles between Franktown and Elizabeth felt like it was killing me. Ever since we'd left, I had a consistent pain in my upper back that I had never felt before. Also, an aching left shoulder, numbness in my left hand, headaches, and even an instance of slightly slurred speech. Like a fool, I didn't pay attention to them and simply attributed it to the bike; getting adjusted. I expected it to be hard. More on that in a bit....

We got to Elizabeth, and pulled into a Safeway so Bruno could dry his sleeping bag, and so I could charge my cell phone and video camera Bruno had attached to his handlebar. I went inside, wrote in my journal for a bit, and when we got ready to leave the 'disconnect' was chaffing me to the point where I had to talk it out with Bruno.

We sat there for 3 hours.

The most significant problem, in consideration of this venue, was the fact that this wasn't 'our' trip. It was never intended to be. We had decided independently to do this before we knew each other existed! I decided to try to find someone to come along, and that's how we wound up together. I had said from the beginning that if it wasn't working out for either of us, rather due to pace, personal- preference conflicts, whatever, that we should be willing to shake hands and go our separate ways. It was pretty obvious that my pace was annoying him, and worrying about that was killing mine! There was NO way I could keep his pace. Not even close. Couple that with the physical issues I was feeling and some circumstances at home, the desire needed to take this trip died right there.

I obviously felt guilty. Bruno bussed to Denver to take this leg of the trip with me, and I was quitting after a day and a half! To his credit, he was very understanding and actually supportive. No one was mad, yelling, or arguing. As a matter of fact, a few days later he pointed out that if he hadn't come here, he probably would have ended up back in Montreal, rather than on his way to Mexico. So, in some backwards way, I suppose it was a benefit to him. I obviously found a great partner! We chatted some more than finally decided to find a place to camp for the night, and I made arrangements to have my GF pick me up. Luckily, there's a park/ campground right on the east end of Elizabeth, so we stopped, ate, chatted and I waited for my ride.

The next day, I told my mother what had happened with the pain, headaches, slurred speech, and she scared the shit out of me! Both she and my father have a history of heart disease. She was afraid that the signs I had were either acute 'warning signs', or worse. It had never dawned on me... yes I'm ignorant... that all the pain I felt on that bike was on the left side of my body. She was able, as a former nurse, to point out several things that I hadn't been aware of.

I was on the brink of going to the doctor, but without Bruno's luxury of Socialized Medicine, I've decided to try to handle things myself- first. Yes... I'm quitting the cigs. After 20 years, they'll finally be given up, after much struggle I'm sure. I've managed to cut them by about 2/3 with no help, and relatively easily. Fear will do that! I've also joined a gym and have been going everyday with a serious focus on cardio- exercise. After 10 minutes Sunday, the guilt of leaving Bruno in Elizabeth left me. I REALLY had NO prayer in Hell or anywhere else, and God knows what might have happened if I had continued on and ignored it. Maybe nothing? Sure. But I'm glad I didn't roll that dice.

Of course there's disappointment. I'd been planning for six- months, and invested alot of time, effort and money. However, one thing that occurred to me has stuck, and taken root. It seems that sometimes the process of achieving something is more important than the thing itself. I enjoyed the summer that was filled with the anticipation and even anxiety. The two weeks Bruno was here were great, and thanks to something I read about 'only preparing for your first trip once', I paid attention to it all and enjoyed it. Goals are great if you want to buy a car, house, climb the vocational ladder. I'm not one for equating my status in life with how many 'goals' I can reach. All too often, goals are imposed anyhow. Check out "Grand Illusion" by Styx sometime...

It reminded me of that old adage: "Life's a journey, not a destination." Cliche' I know, but isn't it truth?

While I was planning the trip this summer: Life happened. While Bruno and I were here pontificating: Life happened.

I wouldn't trade any of it. Now, you know what I get to do? Experience what it's like to quit smoking! Experience going from piss- poor to excellent cardio health, and all that comes with it. Sounds a bit extreme, doesn't it? Like Pollyanna on Meth perhaps, but true. Part of the tapestry of life.

My primary goal with this trip has been achieved too. Vitam Impendere Vero: Know yourself. I've learned too many things to count. There is a difference between knowing and improving. To improve, you have to identify, REALLY identify it, then attack it. So, the next mini- phase of my life has been presented to me: try not to have a heart attack!

So there it is, in all it's naked honesty. I didn't make it to Mexico, or even Oklahoma. It's taken a week to put it together, decompress, and re- evaluate, but I don't consider it a failure. I'm better, and wiser for it. Is there really anything else to ask for?

One final word on Bruno. He's doing just fine, of course. He's almost to Lubbock, Texas now and is finding our Texan comrades very agreeable! I'll post a few of his updates on here, so if you're interested to see how things turn out, feel free to check back.

He's about half my age, but he's one of the rare young people, in my experience, that actually teach you something other than quoting textbooks. I admire his courage, honesty, and wisdom. Wisdom's a hard thing to come by at a young age! Oh, I'll pray for you!!