3/20: Monterey, CA- Karma Chameleon

"I'm a man (a man) without conviction
I'm a man (a man) who doesn't know
How to sell (to sell) a contradiction
You come and go, you come and go"
-Culture Club

3/18: Cambria, CA Revisited- Azrael's Karen

Pulling into San Simeon Beach State Park, memories came rushing back. The nostalgia was as thick as the persistent fog in seeing spots that have scorched themselves into my psyche; places only seen in my own photographs for the last couple of years. It had been less than two-years, but the Odyssey as I now know it began with Pat in San Luis Obispo, and literally took off after mending my blisters in this very place. Meeting Rael here seemed fitting as a kick-off to whatever adventures lie ahead in 2010. The few minutes before seeing Rael felt a great deal like "coming home."

3/17 & 18: To the Coast- Melody & Marci

I originally contacted Melody via her Craigslist ad around the first of March. She was to be moving from Austin to Portland, stopping in Taos to see friends, then continuing on toward San Francisco. I had also been in chatting with Rael since Slab City, and discovered that he was in fact still on hiatus from his walk, and would be heading to the coast toward San Francisco instead of Yosemite due to climate concerns! It would be a bit warmer along the central California coast, and a good time to see some of the southern portions of Hwy. 1. Between the two, it was obvious that this was an alternative to a dreaded trip east and a partial repeat of 2008's West Coast Run- one of my favorite's to date. It would also presumably provide an opportunity to dig deeper into some of the "Camel Ideas". This could be quite cool indeed...

7/3: Portland

Thursday

We got up pretty late again after enjoying the evening of solitude away from all people, and especially kids! We took out time tearing down the campsite then headed toward Munson Creek Waterfalls... off the 101 toward Tillamook from Beaver.

I had 3 messages from Shalain about a voice mail I'd left the day before giving her the impression that something was wrong, when in reality I was just pissed at my inability to follow a budget! I had lost my shitty Sprint cell- signal the night before and had no way of contacting her, so when I did we had a bit of a good- natured "you asshole!" laugh. She had done that to me during my time as a carnie in Louisiana back in March. We started discussing possible options regarding the terminus of the journey due to fiscal ineptitude on your protagonists part. IOW: I'm shitty with money.

I decided to get to Portland, meet my Couchsurfing host and explore the possibility of getting temp- work while I was there, then discussing it with her later on.

Eric, Marine and I got to the waterfall and enjoyed that alot. It was much bigger than I thought it would be, and the hike getting there was nice.

From there we drove into Tillamook, home of my favorite cheese, and stopped at the library again to check emails and so they could send off CS requests for Seattle. Then it was down Hwy. 6 to Portland.

It occurred to me that I was finally leaving 101/ Hwy. 1 for the first time in nearly 3 weeks. I was also leaving my constant companion, the Pacific Ocean, too. There was a slight twinge of nostalgia because I'd enjoyed that immensely. Yet, I was also ready to see some other things. Oregon is more than just the coast, and that was being drilled home the further east we went thru the Coast Range. Just awesome. I love this state!

As we approached Portland, I guided Eric to my drop off point and began to gather my things. I'd been in their car for almost a full week, and had been ready to move on for a few days! I'm sure, though they said nothing, that they felt the same! I quickly gathered my stuff from the trunk, shook hands and hugged , and proceeded toward Dave's place. The houseboat! I told myself...

After a quick 1/2 mile walk down the road w/ my now feather- light pack, I found the marina, and began to seek out Dave. I was 45 minutes early, so I hoped it wouldn't cause any problems. Dave saw me wandering around and came out to greet me. He was pretty terse at first, probably annoyed that I had gotten there early and that he was still working. He guided me over to his place, which was NOT a houseboat, but a small one bedroom house built on the deck of the marina. He let me chill out there for 20 minutes or so- smoking and relaxing; glad to finally be in Portland.

Dave was much happier when he got back. He directed me to a much needed shower and laundry- session, then we sat and got to know each other a bit. He and I have VERY similar views on MANY things. He's a musician, so we talked about the uselessness of radio and the future of things, both artistically and socially. We then hopped in his van and headed downtown. There's a blues festival here this weekend, but finding parking was next to impossible so instead we went to Voodoo Donuts then to a little bar that had the Tigers- Mariners game on! Tigers won.

From there it was across the river to the east side of Portland, starting with the Mississippi District. MUCH better! Reminded me of the best parts of Denver, but better. Everything was open- music flowing thru the streets. It was nothing like LoDo... much more 'texture' to it. I really enjoyed that!

We got home about midnight, and though he offered me his couch I chose to sleep on a mattress he has on his covered porch. Slept like a rock... I like sleeping outside these days!

Oregon... ROCKS! I love it here! The people are so damn genuine... much more so than California... and there's no sales tax either, on top of the fact that stuff's cheaper to begin with. The terrain is devastatingly beautiful too.... more on that, including pictures, when I get some time.

I'll be in Portland for at least a couple days; maybe longer. I've found a place to Couchsurf until Sunday, then may have another surfer to stay with after that... we'll see. It was ALOT easier to find hosts here, and my French friends, who happen to ALSO be Couchsurfers, found it the same. No luck in SF for them either but no problem here.

6/28: Olema- Humboldt State Park

It didn't take long to figure out what was going on when we awoke. We got showered after having to complain to the owners about the lack of hot water in the showers... Eric was pissed! $37 and there's no hot water in the morning?!?! I also began getting my clothes cleaned, and while they were drying they eventually offered to let me ride along for the day... to wherever... and camp with them again. I was quite happy of course. I had been in California for 15 days now, and though it was still quite beautiful, I was ready to get to Oregon- which has always been of more fascination to me than California.

We loaded up and proceeded to cruise north, stopping periodically at particularly interesting places to take pictures, or just mill around. The landscape was ever- changing. Farm land, cliffs, and the ever- thickening forests. Just amazing.

We stopped for lunch and HOT coffee in Gualala where I called Shalain and finally got some good news money- wise. I decided that I'd take advantage of the opportunity to buy some cheaper, thicker socks at the little outdoor store/ gift shop. We were probably there for an hour and a half, just chilling out. I was enjoying this day, and making some real geographic progress.

That's pretty much how the day went from there. Cruising along, stopping now and then to eat or just enjoy the coast. Eric had decided that he wanted to spend two days in the Redwoods of northern California, so he wanted to stop somewhere just short of there, camp, then hit the parks the following day.

Eventually we came to Legget, which was a significant point in that this was where my friend Hwy. 1 ended and rejoined 101. We stopped and I got a self portrait with the sign, and we headed onto 101. The terrain was by now drastically different than earlier in the day. THICK forest land, with larger hills and HUGE trees. We figured this area would be a wonderful place to camp, so so loaded up on beer, hot dogs, and firewood in Garberville then got off 101 to follow a parallel- running road into Humboldt- Redwoods Natl. Park in search of suitable camping.

We found a $20 spot this time, and it was PERFECT. No neighbors, and more importantly NO KIDS! We were essentially isolated from the rest of the camp sites in a depression surrounded by redwoods. We all three LOVED this spot. We set up, built the fire and drank our 18 Budweisers, ate our hot dogs, and talked about philosophy, politics, sociology... The perfect night for me! It was interesting to hear a European perspective about the US, and I was happy that we had both similar and differing views on a lot of things. I love exchanging ideas much more than mentally masturbating with people who wholly agree with me...

Of course we got to bed pretty late, but it was worth it.

6/27: Muir Beach- Olema: Eric & Marine

One of the more significant days of the trip. One that would determine the time frame of the entire West Coast.

I woke up beneath by bushes rather early to the sounds of hikers chatting as they passed by me, not realizing that I was nestled in there. It's funny what people say when they think no one's there. Reminds me of that philosophy that 'no one's normal'; we all have goofy quirks we try to hide when people are around!

I had a couple cups of cold instant coffee-- the usual-- packed up and decided today I'd get on down Hwy. 1. Part of the reason I crossed the Marin Headlands via the trail was that it deposited me at Muir Beach, which is where my now favorite road comes close to shore after separating from the 101.

I was still short on water after accidentally dumping the Camelback the day before, so my first mission was stocking up on water, then #2 was getting to the next town for FOOD! I was running a bit low, not really getting any since Cambria, before Florian picked me up, and Muir Beach isn't a town as much as a place rich people build their palaces to overlook the coast. No stores. I found a neat little Inn just as I picked up the 1, went in to fill up the water and was off... back on the road.

The first thing I noticed was how narrow the shoulders were, and how many curves this stretch had... and more hills. There were times where I'd have to cross the road to get wider shoulder space and to be able to see as traffic was coming. The smoke from the wildfires that had been raging in California still held overhead too... I wouldn't see much sun for DAYS from here on out... and it mixed with fog coming off the Pacific. It's hard to tell the difference in the two, except for the faint smell of smoke and the BLAZING red sunsets. The effect of the smoke- fog and the terrain gave everything an almost creepy beauty! As though I were walking thru a Stephen King or Alfred Hitchcock movie...

And so it went... Walking, resting, hitchhiking. My feet were much better with the new inserts, but I began to develop a blister in the worst place for me: my right heel. That bugged me because these are always a big problem for me, and they never seem to callous. It was obviously from all the hills, but something that needed to be kept on top of.

I'd decided to hitch it to Stinson Beach because of that and my food shortage, and resolved to completely prepare there for the upcoming 300+ miles to Oregon. Eventually I got a ride with Richard, a 40- something guy on his way to Stinson. He told me a disturbing story about a beating/ stabbing that had just taken place in the next town up from Stinson. Apparently some kids beat a guy to the brink of death on the beach. The part that creeped me out was that he was a drifter- type... homeless by choice... vagabond.... whatever. I could be seen that way too. I quickly figured on getting thru that area ASAP.

I got to Stinson Beach and Richard dropped me at the "shitty expensive" grocery store (his words... they rang true). I went in and loaded up on tortillas, Raman, instant Oatmeal, and even bought some Tillamook cheese: my new favorite. With the lithium batteries and Clif Bars, the bill came to an ungodly $38! Are yo u kidding me?!?!

When I came out, a middle age guy spied the backpack and struck up a conversation with me. I wasn't exactly in the mood to socialize because of the image of the beaten/ stabbed guy floating in my paranoid imagination. He said he was camping in the hills above Stinson, and that I was welcome to join him up there if I liked. Perhaps I should have been more open to that, but for whatever reason, I just wasn't interested in staying there. It was still relatively early... 3:30 or so, and I wanted to get out of town, and past the now infamous Bolinas. He did however point me toward the library, and I was thrilled to find out it was open until 6!

I figured I'd go in and upload a few pictures and update the now lagging Trip Diary, but when I got in there I discovered that this library had the FASTEST upload speeds I believe I'd ever seen. So, I did a mass upload of pictures covering the time between Santa Cruz and there, and delayed the update. I also got a few free maps from the very friendly librarian, and more details on the beating, which seemed to be on the tips of everyone's tongue. That settled me a bit because since it was obviously BIG news, it wasn't something that happened very often. Plus, I learned that the people who did it... which included a 16 year- old, were in jail.

I uploaded until 6:00, then made my way out of Stinson Beach catching a ride with a 40- something woman in a VW Bug to the road that leads to Bolinas. I continued on up the road toward dusk, thru Dogtown and into Pt. Reyes Natl. Seashore where I began to hunt places to bed down for the night. Again, I almost stopped but figured I'd continue on a bit to see if I could either find better spots or catch a ride.

Did I ever catch a ride.

Out of nowhere a burgundy Mazda 6 pulled over, and inside were a young couple in their 20's who spoke with THICK accents. I laughed out loud... much to their surprise I'm sure. I asked them , in my fatigue, if they were German by any chance and the said no... French. They said they were on holiday heading up the coast and could at least get me to the next town or maybe State Park. I liked them immediately.

I hopped in and we started chatting as we drove toward Olema. When it became apparent we would get along nicely, and they said they were looking to camp I suggested we just split a site and hang out for the night. They were cool with that, so we asked an elderly couple in Olema about the nearest campground. They said there was one a couple of blocks further up Hwy. 1, and that they were staying there, REALLY liked it, and more importantly there were vacancies. Good enough for us ...

The campsite was privately operated and thus expensive. $37 for three of us! Remember the scene in Vacation when the Griswold's get to the camp in Colorado? I did:

"$37 for THREE tents?"

Plus, a little bundle of firewood was $9!

So, yeah... almost half of my weekly budget on a campsite. I looked at it as an investment though. I thought it was likely that we'd get along very well, and since we were going the same way, I may have found the perfect ride, so I didn't stress about the money too much. Plus the place had showers and a laundromat... woohoo!! Needed both... badly.

We set up camp, and began chatting. The place was overcrowded and had entirely too many kids. I wondered to myself if there was such thing as an adult- only campground that didn't involve nudists or swingers. I still wonder that...

Through the course of conversation I learned that Eric and Marine were traveling with much the same philosophy as I. No concrete plans or time frame. I loved that. PLUS... they were Couchsurfing it!! YES!!! It was about then that I realized how big Couchsurfing is becoming. They told me that they too had problems finding a host in San Francisco, but had already found one in Portland.

We chatted around the fire for quite awhile and got to bed pretty late. I still wasn't sure how things were going to go the next day, but figured either way was fine with me. I could continue on my own, or ride with these guys if they liked. I figured I'd get up, shower, do some laundry, and take it from there. Again though, I thought, the solution may have presented itself.

6/19: San Simeon- Big Sur: Florian

This was a day of contradictions. Maybe the most intense day of the trip as far as the extremes go.

I was up and sadly leaving my little piece of $2 camping Nirvana at about 11:30 or so, loaded up with water and tea and back on Hwy. 1. I had learned from my neighbors the night before that there would be a place in the next town, San Simeon, to get water etc., so I didn't fully top off and felt remarkably light as I left.

What a great walk the first few miles was! I stopped off at a Vista Point to rest my feet, and tend to the re- developing blisters. Such a beautiful place! The squirrels and birds are quite bold here. They'll literally climb on top of you to get peanuts. I got a picture of a squirrel doing exactly that, and actually reaching his front paws up to take the nut from my fingers. I dig squirrels. Sue me!

I must have sat there for a good hour (not in a hurry, remember?) and got back at it. William Randolph Hearst's Castle was a few more miles up the road, and is right across from W.R. Hearst State Beach, complete with a sign proclaiming him a 'Great Patriot'. I plopped down in the shade up against a fence, smoked, chugged water, and gazed from a distance upon the most extreme, blatant, and disgustingly obvious self- congratulatory display of Capitalism and the pursuit of money I can ever imagine. Hearst Castle. I really loved the irony of looking at this thing while sitting in the dirt beneath a tree next to my backpack, and I called Karim to let him know.

For thóse that don't know, Citizen Kane was based not- so- loosely on WR Hearst. He was a newspaper giant in the early 20th Century. I couln't help but think how this man had built this Tribute to Greed by collecting five or 10 cents at a time from working class people. I could envision someone locking themselves up in this cage and while dying crying 'Rosebud'... to no one.

I sat there for 45 minutes or so, then went inside the park and filled my water. Everything this time. I knew I was heading into the middle of nothingness, this would be my last chance to fill up and it was obvious that eventually ´the thumb would have to come out.

Onward I went, my feet getting worse by the step under the increased weight of another full boca bottle and the from the heat of the asphalt under the afternoon sun. I went another couple of miles when I began to fizzle out. I plopped down on the side of the road in a section that was coming out of a curve. I quickly realized the ignorance of this and moved on. Shortly thereafter I felt something in my left foot... the same place I was feeling the discomfort earlier in the week before I had removed the inserts. I had re- inserted them before I'd left but this was different. It felt like something was stinging or biting me inside the boot! I stopped, found nothing and realized the tendinitis had returned. Grrr!!!

I began looking for places to bed down for the night, found a good spot that seemingly had been used before several times for either sleeping or hiking and resolved to keep trying to catch a ride until dark, and if I got nothing to sleep there.

I sat down back on the road, put on my Mp3 player, and sat there in virtual isolation. Hwy 1 traffic is pretty steady early in the day, but I had noticed that it quickly and steadily fades around 6 or 7 pm, and trickles to next to nothing on the northbound side... since most people (except for me) travel it south. Oddly enough though, with my feet blazing with blisters and other various pains and with next to no hope of a ride, I felt oddly at ease. An insane calm came over me. I realized that I'd seen and expected this simple vision for a few years, and here it was. I knew I had plenty of water and food, and was learning to just 'trust it'. Things work out. A nice moment of clarity.

After an hour or so of no rides, I decided to walk up a bit further and see if there may be better places to camp, ignoring the lesson I thought I'd learned in Cambria. For whatever reason I was just compelled to keep going. The sun was much lower, so the heat off the road had lessened making it a bit easier. I got back into a nice rhythm, and spied a lone pine tree wayyyy up the road where the coast seemed to cut north. I thought that would be a wonderful place to catch the sunset so I thought I'd do my best to get there racing the sun.

Walking was remarkably easier at this point than I expected it to be, and made pretty good time. I got to my lone pine tree which turned out to be another Vista Point and since I had gotten no rides with my thumb out the whole way there I resigned myself to crawling beneath this lone pine and sleeping, despite the 'no camping' signs that were posted all over the place. I wasn't 'camping' I told myself; I was 'resting'.

Turns out it didn't matter.

I had walked into the Vista about 30 ft. when I spied an RV on the horizon coming north. Against all logic, I had a split second vision of this being significant. No one ever believes me when I talk about these things, but they're real! I told myself, I'll try ONE MORE time to get a ride, and if it doesn't work... screw it. I'll sleep beneath the tree.

Yep.

They stopped.

Inside was a German couple from Munich along with their 4 year- old son. Florian asked me where I was going, and I said as far north as I could. He said they were just going to the next campground, but I could ride if I wanted to. I figured at worst I'd have a decent place to sleep, so I eagerly took it.

Veronika let me in, and I sat down as we headed up the coast as the sun was dropping beneath the horizon. As soon as I sat down their son, Paul, just stared at what he must have thought was a strange road- creature that just climbed aboard! He was funny.

Florian offered me a Miller, which may have been the BEST tasting beer I've ever had after being in the unusually hot sun all day! We continued on, enjoyed the increasingly intense landscape, and got to know each other.

What a nice family. So happy and just seem to enjoy each other! They had rented the RV in San Francisco and driven down to Death Valley and were now heading up Hwy 1 back to San Fran to catch a flight to Seattle on Tuesday.

It turns out that, fortunately (for me anyhow), all the campgrounds were full. Florian kept driving and driving until he finally found Pfeiffer- Big Sur State Park. It said the only openings were for 'self contained' campers and he needed to 'dump' the RV.

That was one of the funniest things ever, especially if you've seen the movie RV! They had used the wrong paper in the toilet and he had to unclog the septic system. When he did, all hell broke loose! He was doused in the chemical that disintegrates the ummmm... 'waste'. I speak a little German, and caught him saying 'I have shit on my face!'. I hated to laugh at him, but couldn't help it! He was good natured about it and saw the humor in wearing 'liquid shit'! I'll never forget that!

He found an open campsite, pulled in and settled down for the night. Veronika and Paul went to bed rather quickly, and he offered me the RV's couch to sleep on. We sat out by the fire talking while he tried to BBQ chicken and a pepper steak for me to eat. He's not the most experienced of BBQers so it took forever, and in the meantime he put 'Snatch' on his laptop for us to watch while I fought to stay awake. Funny little movie, and when the food finally got done I gorged myself!

Warm food: Gooooood!

We had a few more beers a a couple glasses of champagne, and I went to sleep contemplating how things just seem to work themselves out. They invited me along to ride toward Santa Cruz with them on Friday, and since my feet were shredded I gladly accepted. Quite an eventful day, and I had made some new friends.

6/17: San Simeon Beach State Park

I woke up at what appears to be my new usual time: 8:30. I slept well but woke up still pissed off at myself for my field- folly and losing SOG. I made a cup of nasty coffee then got up to answer nature’s call. I took about 4 steps to the other side of the bush, and guess what I saw…

SOG!

I had slept literally 10 feet from it! There was NO way in heck I should have found that thing. NONE! Considering where it could have been lost AND my aimless wanderings and inability to find my original trails, it should have been gone. I know some people think life is full of silly coincidences. I’m not one of them. Remember when I said that when I met Pat, I wasn’t making a conscious decision? The same thing happened with my meandering path back to the SOG reunion… and would recur later in the week.

A great start to the day.

I got out of Cambria pretty much as expected, after charging my cell phone and taking my time getting out of town. My feet were bugging me quite a bit with blisters after wandering around in the fields the night before with feet soaked by the river the night before, so I set the modest goal of getting to the Hike & Bike supposedly a couple miles up the road. I wasn't really sure rather to trust the info and some people had said that many of these handy little outposts were shut down, so I packed extra water making the pack heavier and bugging the blisters even more. Just a nuisance really, but a constant one!

It occurred to me as I started out that I was FINALLY getting on to Hwy 1. I wasn't going to hitch; just walk no matter how long it took. The scenery and sounds/ smells of the ocean right off the road was hypnotizing. I stopped several times to take pictures and just enjoy it. The weather on the California Coast is surprisingly cool. Low- mid 70's for the most part because of the north- to- south currents bringing colder water from Alaska as cooling things. This is especially true in the evening and at night. It's as though there's a natural air conditioner!

Eventually, I had gotten far enough that when I 'crossed the bridge' the guy had told me about, the right turn was into a State Park. I initially thought the guy was a´n idiot for not simply saying there's a park up there and that there would indeed be NO Hike & Bike, but to my pleasant surprise there WAS one there. For $2 a night! Two fricking dollars! Plus ´there were showers and access to the ocean. I was quite pleased.

I set up camp enjoying the fact that I wasn't stumbling thru a field to do it nor was I hiding from anyone!

Shortly after I was settled in, a bike tourist came in and began setting up his camp. We got to chatting and I learned that he was from Arroyo Grande, which is 50 miles south, a bit past San Luis Obispo. His name is Nick, and it turned out we had a lot in common. He had recently decided to quit his job with a map company because he simply hated the 9-5 life. When he tried to resign, the owner asked him if he just wanted to do it 6- months out of the year- giving him Spring/ Summer off. Good for him! So, he's off until October and was at San Simeon on an overnight bike trip. I built a nice fire from the extra wood people had left lying around, and we just chatted and watched the nearly full moon until midnight or so. A VERY enjoyable night, no doubt.