6/14: Santa Barbara

In a bit of a hurry again! Yesterday was incredible. I met up with my Couchsurfing host, Chris, at the library when she got out of work and she brought me along on an INCREDIBLE Sierra Club hike that she was taking into the Santa Barbara foothills. It was a pretty steep hike, but the conversation with Chris and her friends coupled with the vistas were terrific! I wish the pics of the coast has come out better, but I was thrilled to be up there!

We then came to her house in Isla Vista near UCSB where she was hosting a potluck and I got caught up on my phone calls. Chris and her were excellent hosts, and her friends, including the couple we went to hang out with after the potluck, made me feel like I have been in Santa Barbara for years.

I managed to take the 2 minute walk down to the Oceanside last night, and with the moon reflecting off the water realized that I had gotten "there". It was awesome!

Not sure what's happening today. I connected with another Couchsurfer who's taking a hike near Ojai overnight and invited me to come and camp out with him. if I can get around in time, I think I'll take him up on it!

Santa Barbara's been great, and has become one of my favorite places in the short time I've been here. Good choice!!

California

6/13: Friday the 13th on the California Coast

Day 11
Santa Barbara, CA

Arrived in Santa Barbara this afternoon after about 25 hours on the Amtrak. Funny how this decision came about, but glad it did! The ride here via the Southwest Chief and the Surfliner was fine; relaxing. Gave me time to think a bit and would have helped me to get prepared, but I'm already there. Weird.

I did spend 3 hours at Union Station in LA, and about an hour chatting up a guy who claimed he used to be Alice Cooper's guitarist. It appeared to me that everyone near Alameda St. downtown was a musician in, at least in their own minds if not reality. He was a decent guy though, and actually enjoyed the chat.

This part of California is amazing! Definitely not disappointed with the scenery, and there are state beaches everywhere from what I could see on the train. Better than Florida in the respect that both the temps and humidity are lower. Santa Barbara is clean beyond imagination, and reminds me a bit of St. Augustine, without the 600 year old buildings. Probably better comparisons to be made, but I'm in a hurry. Only 30 minutes at the library.

I'm staying with a Couchsurfer tonight who happened to work here at the library, so no drama meeting up with her. She and her husband have 2 boys, 17 & 21. She's taking me on a hike w/ some Sierra Club friends into the foothills when she gets out, then I was invited to take part in a potluck she happens to be hosting tonight. Free Food!! yay!!

I'll try to get out of town early tomorrow, unless I can find another host. Santa Barbara is worth seeing more than just a quick walk thru. Interesting people it would seem also. I was just given the most in- depth conspiracy theory I've ever heard while waiting for the computer!

I'll let ya know...

6/12: Changing Santas

I'm back at it... finally. Stay tuned for where, but here's a lyrical hint:

"... all the leaves are brown and the sky is gray...."

I'll update again Friday or Saturday. Hope you're well!

6/5: Santa Fe- Metaphorical Whirlpool

Ever get that feeling as though something bound to your leg dragging you to the bottom of a lake? Santa Fe feels that way, much the same way Hillsdale did 11 years ago. It's a very difficult place to escape from once it has you in it's grip.

I really intended to leave yesterday, and was packed to do so, but circumstances here are a bit-- tense. Shalain is moving on the 15th, and she's had a harder time than imagined finding a place to move TO, and even getting some of the idiots that live here to even return phone calls... on their own rentals! I essentially didn't know what I was returning to. So I've gotten involved in helping her find a place, pack, and essentially deal with others complacency. Not how I pictured my week going.

Something I've never been able to grasp: the "Land of Manana" thing; procrastination on steroids. It's initially quaint. Then infuriating. Especially when you're actually trying to get something done. That's why it took 3 weeks to get phone service in Taos, 5 weeks for (crappy) Internet, why our land- line went out every time it rained and no-one from Qwest would bother to do anything about it until it began making phantom 911 calls (we canceled service), and on and on.

But it looks as though I'll be setting off soon. By Sunday. Every thing's still packed and waiting, and the positive aspect of this little sojourn is that I've reinforced my attitudes and my motivation is higher than ever, although of course I'm fighting the 'comfortability' of familiar surroundings.

Time to vent.

I've gotten emails from a few people who have chastised me for coming back here so soon. Remember however how easy it is to judge some one else's actions wile sitting in your own comfy chair! It's obvious that to some people this is reality TV, and I get that. However, this isn't fabricated drama written to increase viewership or solely provide entertainment. If I wanted to keep producing that shit, I'd have stayed in radio and be eating much better!

The tricky thing about publicly documenting this is that you have to be careful whose insight you value and learn to take the opinions of the others with a smile. I always ask myself how much the 'Reality Show Couch Critics' are putting out there, and rather they'd welcome the same type of critique in their own lives if their ideas were laid open for the world to see.

No. Of course not! They be indignant! It's easy to criticize someone else's work when you're doing none of your own, eh?

I saw this coming because Chris went through similar stuff on his trip. It's the problem with the anonymity of email and the illusion that you're reading some fictitious travel- novel, or watching some fluff- piece on the Travel Channel. I welcome opinions, don't get me wrong. But, I'd encourage you to offer something personal from your own life up for critique if you presume to dissect mine. Or at least be constructive and offer some original insight as a companion to 'opinion'.

Feeling a bit defensive today, ain't I?

On that note, I REALLY should have left early Monday morning!

I've had a chance to contemplate a lot of things over the past few days through the "Sweet Perspective of Melancholy". (How dramatic!) It's pretty apparent to me that, despite what YOU may think about my Interlude, this trip is going to define much more than I even realized- and this is a big part of it.

The prospects of returning to Santa Fe after this is 'done' seem smaller than before. Shalain's adapting to and preparing herself for that; something I sensed even before I left Denver the first time. No one can blame her for that, and I'm GLAD she is! She's growing roots into the High Desert, and it seems as though mine are slowly being pulled from amongst the sage. She says that she noticed the 'feeling alive' part (previous post)of my short little adventure so far, and she expects this to last much longer than we'd discussed, or I even expected.

This coming from the woman who saw my Epic Bike Tour last 3 days! And most of the other plans I've made over the past 4 years fall to oblivion.

She also seems to think that in the end I'll return to Denver, while she has NO intention of leaving here. I want to argue, and I rightly point out that nothings been decided but my contradictory arguments are prefaced with: 'You may be right- I've thought about that'.

Sometimes people just grow apart, and the realization that you want different things is tough to digest, especially after seven years. I'm afraid that this may be exactly what's happening, and this is the crescendo of our personal overture that's been building since August, 2004.

"I told you!!"

Shut the hell up. Or I'm coming to live with you and I'll offer uninformed commentary on what YOU should do!

But, things can change. I've been a testament to that gospel many times since 5/20.

If this does happen, and we go our separate ways, I'm glad it was done in the right way. Not out of anger which is usually the case, but out of a mutual respect for what each other wants out of life and what we believe their lives should mean. We both want what's best for the other person AND ourselves. For that I'm glad. Now we'll see how this plays out indefinitely...

As for the next chapter on the road, I've begun to consider going east again... WAY East. Florida to see my daughter. US 17 is a great road in E. Georgia and S. Carolina that's runs closely to US 1- which takes you all the way through Maine. Then there's New Hampshire/ Vermont and a road that runs along the Hudson River into Mass. Then maybe Chris's friend Gus could be added to my ever- growing yet non- existent list. I believe I'll probably figure out a way to get to I-40, and take stock and follow my Indian name I was given while, of all things, I was working as a carnie: Runs With the Wind.

What a great story that was... maybe I'll pass it along sometime. I mean really, how many of you have had a spiritual experience as a traveling carnival worker in New Orleans?

Anyone? Anyone? Dyson? Anyone?

5/30- 6/2: Denver- Santa Fe; An Interlude

June 2
Santa Fe, NM

I woke up on Chris’s couch at about 1:30 Friday feeling quite hungover. It’s not that I drank THAT much, but obviously have next to no tolerance; a good thing. I stumbled around for awhile, then after Chris woke up we just lounged around for an hour or so then walked to Dazbog’s and Barracuda’s so he could drop off the rest of the tip for our waitress from the night before. Who DOES that? Friar Chris does.

He had a meeting to get to, and I had 330 miles to drive, so I left his place and walked to the car, drove back to his place to pick up the pack and hit the road. I finally left Denver at about 5:00.

The drive was nice. It was about a perfect day, and even the 5:00 traffic seemed to cooperate as I headed down I-25. I hadn’t really thought about it, but having the time to reflect on the last 10 days alone in the car was nice. I realized I hadn’t really accomplished much, relatively speaking, but it was an important step. I now have some confidence, and know more about where I want to be or, maybe even more importantly, where I DON’T want to be. I reflected back on my mind- set before I’d left and realized that I had definitely felt ALIVE for the last week and a half; something I mostly hadn’t felt since last summer when we moved to New Mexico. The beauty of the Front Range was intoxicating too, especially in that state of mind. I love Colorado; never gotten sick of being there.

I turned off I-25 at my familiar spot in Walsenburg, and started down US 160 just north of the Spanish Peaks and headed toward La Veta pass and eventually Ft. Garland where I head south toward Taos and home. The sun was setting, and even if I could create a day, I wouldn’t change anything. Warm, blue skies, and the setting sun shining hues of red onto the mountain sides.

I of course was questioning the wisdom of heading home so quickly, but whenever I’d think about that I have to credit myself with the fact that I WOULD have taken any ride headed toward California! I broke camp with Fresno as my goal, but as is seeming to be the case more often than not, my plans never seem to be realized. Improvisation is the method of choice, and since I got a ride to Denver I could now return the car to New Mexico so Shalain wouldn’t have to gather it later on. That really is significant, although it wasn’t part of my thinking when I left Rawlins!

I got back to Santa Fe at about 11pm, and was glad to be out of the car! Saturday was pretty uneventful, although I must confess it was nice to relax. I also realized that one of the Santa Fe Library branches is staffed by hippie- Nazis! When I left the library, there was a bright, shiny object sitting stationary in the southeast sky. A funny looking thing that seemed to have a glimmer to it; obviously inside the atmosphere but NOT moving from its position. It also appeared to have a dark spot in its center. Nothing like it do I remember ever seeing. Of course, we all know what the explanation was that night on the news. Weather balloon!

Sunday was another lazy day in a sense, but I did begin to process more experience v. the philosophy. I wrote a whole diatribe that I was going to publish here, but decided against it. Instead, I'll just post a fraction of it, and save the rest for later on. I also noticed myself getting a bit comfortable here; the same as I did in Glenwood Springs. I'm slowly coming to the conclusion that I may need to set one rule when this continues this week: the Two Day Rule. I think that's plenty of time anywhere, and after that I begin to adapt too well to my surroundings. We'll see how that goes!

I've decided to leave again either Tuesday or Weds. I've not 100% decided which direction to go yet, but am edging toward I-40 going west. I'm a bit intrigued by Okalahoma, and keep eyeballing the Chama river north of here toward Colorado, but I think I've spent enough time up there.

Things here have been nice for the last few days, and have noticed a sense of calm about myself; a sense of calm that NEVER lasts! I'm soaking up the atmosphere, and beginning to gear up mentally to leave again. I'll let you know how that goes!





Thoughts over the past few days:

Rules and expectations are a funny thing. Especially other people’s.

I resolved to have no rules; be beholden to no one’s expectations but my own. Did I expect to be back in Santa Fe after 11 days? Of course not, but if there are no expectations other than living and experiencing the freedom of the road; riding with fate; why question it? It would be easy to compare other people’s experiences and judge my actions accordingly, but I’m not trying to re-live anything or emulate anyone. I’ve heard the ‘Into the Wild’ comparison a lot, and there are some similarities there when it comes to an innate disgust of a corporatist of society, yet I’m not nearly as rigid in my personal expectations and methodology. I’ve been asked ‘What are you running from?’ several million times and the answer is... expectation, servitude, and someone else’s ‘program’. I want to find my own answers to life and where I see it going rather than simply accept the ‘answers’ I’ve been given. Indoctrinated with. I believe these ‘answers’ are bullshit, and I want to find the truth. There is more to life than economic servitude. Working to attain material status. Produce, consume, repeat. That’s the point: escape from this Matrix of Materialism in search of the truth of existence. Pretty heady stuff, and I’m not kidding myself in believing I’ll ever find all of these answers. The truth of one’s existence has been sought after since Joe Caveman stumbled onto fire. Enter religion. I simply believe it’s the one thing that each person should seek out independent of doctrine, ‘social norms’ and the expectations of the “Ministry of Standards & Practices”: family, friends, education, institution, and especially the media and it’s golden image of ‘success’ that’s portrayed in every single frame of every single broadcast.

Styx’s ‘Grand Illusion’: “They show you photographs of how your life should be- that’s just someone else's fantasy...”

Think about it next time you watch something. Your told what you should look like, how you should talk, and what & how much ‘stuff’ you should have to be ‘happy’, ‘comfortable’, and ‘successful’! Who defines happy? Comfortable? Especially ‘successful’? What the hell IS 'Normal'? And who benefits when these are defined FOR you? Surely not the investment banker with four boats, a huge house, and an emptiness in his soul the size of Montana that he can’t fill with his Capitalist Achievement Badges.

I’ve also been fighting a battle with self- doubt, ego and my own self- perceived arrogance for a while now. Quite a potpourri of traits! It’s sometimes hard for me to accept that I’m actually RIGHT, and the personal responsibility that comes with it. I have a tendency to seek out people who seem smarter, and are more accomplished and ‘educated’ than me in an effort to actually prove myself WRONG. Yet, with almost NO exception, these people always disappoint. I have to take them right back off that pedestal and every time it happens, it reinforces the conclusions I’ve already come to and I’m quite straight- forward in saying so. If that makes me arrogant, so be it. I’ll be the first to let you know when someone enlightens me! Friar Chris tends to think I have a low opinion of myself, believe it or not and thus battle arrogance AND self- doubt at the same time. Talk about duality!

I’ve come to the conclusion that’s because we’ve been engineered to believe that we ‘ordinary’ people are incapable of accomplishing anything of substance. That greatness is only attainable by the truly ‘great’. Those who have been deified by the culture as flawless: those who have been “Santa Claus-ified”! We’re led to believe that if you’re not perfect, you should just give up because we’re unable to change or offer anything, or to live an ideal. Martin Luther King is a perfect example, and one I use a lot. Here’s a guy who probably accomplished more in the 20th Century than any other American, yet he was besieged by self- doubt and was a flawed human being! He cheated on his wife regularly! He wasn’t a Saint in any sense of the word, but he progressed his people and offered hope and inspiration in a way that no one else could. It just astounds me that MLK was plagued with self- doubt and depression! How could he doubt his cause? Lincoln: depressive. Jean Jacques Rousseau, an architect of the French Revolution: manic depressive. I can relate to this, and understand, to a degree, where it’s coming from. It’s that inner sense that ‘something’s wrong’ and either being unable to decipher what it is, and/ or change it. An inner- struggle for singularity of mind and body: bringing the vision to reality.

I’m convinced that there are literally millions out there that just know instinctively that something’s amiss, but can’t explain it. They just ‘feel’ inner turmoil and the wounds of that battle manifest themselves in depression. These people may the truly ‘blessed’ ones because they are part of the evolution. Oftentimes, but not always, they are scorned as alcoholics, addicts, derelicts who refuse to conform for, apparently, no reason. Their minds receive a frequency that they can’t quite tune- in and it causes a disquiet: White Noise of the Mind.

They’re all over.

They simply have this ‘feeling’ that they’re afraid to talk about. That ‘something’s coming’. Something devastating, but natural and inevitable. I’ve had that since I was a tiny kid, and I meet random people who after a brief conversation, their eyes light up in understanding when I mention it. It’s like “YES! I’m NOT crazy??”.

I’ve heard a lot of mention of the year 2012, and the Mayan calendar. The Theocratic/ Fundamentalists in Christian society will poo- poo the notion as utter foolishness; blasphemy!: that nature could POSSIBLY correct ITSELF! Yet, these same people clutch desperately to the idea that there’s an All- Powerful Man- Like God sitting on his throne in the sky watching everything we do; keeping score so that he’ll know who’s ‘good enough’ to live in ‘Paradise’! Seems a bit short- sighted to me, and borderline hypocritical. It seems to me that nature has a funny way of righting itself when things become unbalanced. If you doubt there’s a lack of balance in the world today try to find a clean river to drink from, or a spot that’s not been polluted either with chemicals or someone’s inconvenient trash.

It seems that with all the technological ‘progress’ we’ve lost many of the skills and most of the knowledge our ancestors had. And forgotten how to relate to each other. With every technological dependency comes a loss of skill. Try calling a friend without your cell- phone in tow. Grow some food. Build your own shelter. Could you even build a little fire if the bundle of firewood wasn’t provided to you? We’re pretty much at the mercy of technology. Without it: prey.

A lot of thoughts and reflection this weekend. As I told Dennis on the ride to Glenwood Springs, I believe that all the answers begin within. It’s a cliche’, but a good one. Once you begin to listen to and BE HONEST with YOURSELF about who you are, what you think, and what you want, the answers will slowly begin to present themselves. It’s a mother being honest with yourself, because there’s no one there to challenge your clever, witty little rationalizations; YOU have to! Yet the only way out is brutal honesty: truth. If Gandhi swore by it, it’s good enough for me! Yet, even trying it is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But alas, waiting for Pink Floyd's 'someone or something to show you the way’ is an exercise in futility. No one has your answers but you; trust yourself.


Wayyyy too much idle time this weekend?!?!?!

5/29 cont.: Definitely NOT west- Rawlins- Denver

Day #10
Denver, CO

I left the library and started walking toward the T/A truckstop and I-80. On the way I ran in to Jeanette again, She gave me a hug and said she was praying for me. She seemed a bit down about something, but I couldn't really tell for sure. I retraced our steps from the day before and, like clockwork, the Wyoming Wind began to howl, pushing me and the pack around a bit. My right foot was beginning to blister- just the right one for whatever reason- and I started to notice some tightness in my right shin, calf, and thigh. Only the right side though! What the hell?

I had noticed some weather starting to push in consisting of heavy, dark clouds with a little thunder. The storm looked more like a winter storm than anything, but it didn’t surprise me. The weather forecast the day before had said it was supposed to be sunny and 70, but it was far from either! While I was crossing over I-80 on the overpass, the winds REALLY kicked up. I even had to hold onto the guardrail to keep from being pushed into traffic, and then the temperature must have dropped 15 degrees almost immediately. I was glad I was walking in when I was, although for all menacing tones, the weather ultimately did next to nothing.

I went in and bought some cigarettes, a coke, and 2 half- priced candy bars and sat down in the same place I had been with Doug on Tuesday night. I was still thinking the weather was going to do something, so I scoped out the truck stop and had thoughts of sitting down in the trucker’s lounge and taking a nap. I REALLY had gotten next to no sleep the night before and was really feeling it by now. The adrenaline from earlier in the day was fading fast, and I was really fighting to stay lucid. I concluded that I needed to stay inside for awhile, before I went out to the I-80 west on- ramp to try to get west, and thought that maybe some real food would help me to feel better. If that didn’t, a bunch of coffee surely would.

I went over to the restaurant, sat down and ordered the buffet and proceeded to gorge myself. I’m not sure I was supposed to raid the salad bar too, but I did. The service was pretty pathetic, so I wasn’t getting quite as much coffee as I had hoped and after I ate, the fatigue began to take hold. I could have, and thought about, just lying back and dozing and started to eyeball the big field behind the truck stop as a place to just throw down the tent and rest. I figured it was too early to do that just yet, only 1:30- ish, so since the weather had calmed itself I went to pay the bill, figuring I’d head out to the on- ramp to see what would happen.

While I was paying my bill, a trucker who was sitting a few seats away from me was in line chatting with someone and since he seemed pretty laid back and friendly I off- handedly asked him which way he was going. He said Laredo, Texas. Before I knew what I was saying I asked if he was going thru Denver, he said yes, and I said, “Think I could get a ride?” He checked me out for a split second and just nodded and said “Yeah” in a matter- of- factly sort of way. I was getting out of Wyoming! AND in a truck! I had wanted to get at least ONE ride in a truck on this trip to see how it went, and this guy- Cesar- was it. I was really surprised at how easy it was to hook up with him, and as we walked out to the truck my energy level began to soar. Maybe it was the food, but more than likely it was the adrenaline of being on the move again. I hadn’t even considered heading east, let alone southeast, but sort of chuckled when I saw the parallel between Rawlins and Ft. Morgan. Plans? HA! The Vagabond Gods shit on my ‘plans’!

Cesar’s truck was a brand new Volvo; beautiful. Cushy. Plush. As I was climbing in and getting the backpack situated the excitement was almost comical. I was doing one of the prime things I wanted to do on this trip, and was happy with the way I was able to improvise. We got on I-80 and began heading toward Laramie and Cheyenne.

What a fun ride. Cesar is in his late 40's I believe, and came to the US from Mexico 20+ years ago. He looks almost exactly like Al Pacino in “Scarface”. I would chuckle every time he said “Montana”, hearing lines from the movie. He was good- natured about it; obviously hearing that comparison a million times. His impression was dead- on: “You cocaroach!” He told me stories about how he used to pick up hitchers all the time, and since he’s Mexican would try to help out the illegals from time to time, giving them rides, food, and even money; then finding out some of his stuff had disappeared with them. That reminded me of a few of the people I had crossed paths with. The ones who brand everyone on the road as a thief, bum, or criminal. Really pissed me off, but I understand it. Hopefully I thought I could change a bit of that stereotype.

The rest of the ride to Denver was great. We chatted, checked out all the antelope that were hanging out along the way and enjoyed the scenery. He took 287 from Laramie to Ft. Collins, then I-25 to the city. I called Chris and Eric, and made arrangements of Chris to drop his keys off at Barracuda’s, and to meet Eric at his baseball game in Wheat Ridge, just off of I-70. Cesar took me all the way there, we exchanged phone numbers and conceptualized a plan to keep track of each other in case we end up in the same area. Then I could hitch a ride with him… wherever. What a good guy he was. Yet another example, eh?

I got to Anderson Park at about 8:30 or so, and came bounding in looking like something out of a Kerouac novel, and smelling like campfire. Quite the sight. There was something odd in the air Thursday night; everyone seemed riled up over something. Chris, Me, Eric… the two teams that were playing the game were at each other’s throat the whole time! Normally I’d blow that off, but I’ve seen brawls in these rec. league games! Too many baseball heroes with shattered dreams of glory I guess, but I wasn’t exactly helping calm things! I was struck at the contrast that the day had held. Waking up in on a Wyoming prairie with the elk, then the truck stop, then walking up to the baseball field in familiar territory with friends. That still boggles my mind.

The game ended and Eric and I went straight to Barracuda’s in Capital Hill, a place becoming familiar again. We had a pitcher of PBR, and Chris and his friend showed up almost immediately. I was curious to see how Chris and Eric got along because while their VERY different in a lot of ways, including age, they’re VERY similar too. The synergy was great, and the conversations were cool, except for all the grief I got for being in Denver again so soon!

“Oh yeah, big world traveler!”

I couldn’t quite get the concept across that there are NO RULES here! Improvisation. I was in Denver; make it work! Later on it occurred to me that this was actually going to work out quite well. I had decided on the way back to take the car back to Santa Fe so Shalain wouldn’t have to worry about picking it up in July, It would save a lot of money, AND I could get rid of more gear and relax for a few days. It really did work out for the best. They just seemed convinced I was going to STAY there! No way.

The drinking commenced, and I made the mistake of letting Angela buy me a Jager shot, then had some of Chris’ Jim Beam when we got back to his house. Ugh!! I don’t drink much anymore, and when I finally got to sleep, after trying to convince Chris to come join me, I was flopping around on the couch like a fish!

Quite the day Thursday. Again, not what I expected when I awoke!

Wyoming

Denver

5/29: North, eh?

Rawlins, WY

Ha! More lessons learned, one I already knew but apparently needed some 'practical' experience to drive it home. Let's start from the beginning.

I left the library yesterday at about 3:00 and found my way out of Rawlins via 287 north- having to maneuver around the ubiquitous road construction (putting in a new sewer system). Getting out of town was relatively easy, but it became apparent that I've become spoiled. I called Chris to find out how close I was to where he crossed 287 on his trip, and through the discussion learned that he had the opinion of Wyomans(?) that they were much less likely to offer rides than other places. Unfortunately I had PLANNED on getting rides. The next town is 30- some miles up the road, and Lander was 120. I hadn't filled my water supply completely, and was carrying just my 3- liter Camelback. It soon became apparent that I should have left prepared. I have no idea what my stamina would be, although Wednesday was a good day for me to find out!

I continued up 287, and eventually got into the Prairie land of nothingness; not even trees. Traffic on 287 was medium, and the shoulder was wide enough. I took my time, stopped when I needed to to rest and eat, heard my first yells of "Git off thuh fukkin road...", and thought pretty highly of myself when I had gone 7 or 8 miles by 5:30 pm. I had been eyeballing places to camp for quite a while because I hadn't expected it to be so FLAT... no hills or trees to hide behind. I had also noticed places called "Walk- Ins" that consisted of a gate made of barbed wire, and a sign saying not to litter, and clean up after yourself. Obviously public, or state land. I found a place behind one of these gates that at least had some hills which would shield me from the wind, which was incredibly strong all day from midday on. I plopped down by the gate, and waited for a ride--- which never came. Chris was right.

At about 7:30, I headed back to prospect my camp site only to discover it had many uses, none of which had much to do with hiking or camping. It was a dump, and a dirt- bike trail. Lots of activity back there, and much of the refuse that was left behind had bullet holes! Just like Hillsdale! Ugh...

I was pretty sure though that since the sun was setting there probably would be no one coming back there to dump or ride, so I found a decent spot and set up the tent. It was still relatively light out, so I had time to gather wood from the trash I'd seen laying around and I had visions of a glorious night. The clouds had even dissipated enough to give me one HELL of a sunset.

I was out collecting my wood when it happened. My lesson. I knew better than to camp near where there's high human activity. See... 'stealth camping' is supposed to be... stealth. I wasn't so- stealthy. A truck pulled thru the gate and literally destroyed my little piece of Nirvana! I began having thoughts that maybe I was on private land ( I knew better), or that these two guys had seen me walking and decided to come and relieve me of what little I had. They'd have plenty of Cliff bars to take home I guess. The truck bounced around, diving up and down the hills and I believe they parked for a minute to smoke a joint or make sure I hadn't disturbed their (imaginary) cocaine deposit worth millions more to them than my life. I ripped the rain- fly off my tent when one of these guys climbed a hill at the other end of this place, and looked toward my direction. I was pretty sure he saw me and was about to bug out, but remembered what had happened on the S. Platte in Ft. Morgan last week. Nothing. So, I decided to wait and see what they did.

They left.

See how paranoia works?

I waited for a bit to see if they returned and when they didn't I built my little fire by burning Canada. I mean really- what do I need Canada in my atlas for? It was a nice fire; easy to light and I even used horse- dung to get it going. Yes it DOES burn, and doesn't even smell that bad. Thanks Les Stroud.

The fire helped me to regain my senses, and since it was getting cold, kept me toasty while I talked to Shalain to let her know what was going on. I got off the phone, peed the fire out (THAT stunk), and hopped in the sleeping bag- making sure that most everything was in the backpack and not even bothering with the rain fly, although it was going to drop to near 40. All this in case I had to make a quick exit-- still having visions of doom.

Ever see Stand By Me? Remember the part where they're in the woods camping and the fat kid, Vern, is standing 'guard'? You know, every time he heard a noise, he'd spin around like there was a ghost or something, all freaked out? I was Vern. All night. But I was instead imagining phantom rednecks. In fact, I now have a road name:

Vern.

I'll keep Vern until I earn another one. I'll be taking suggestions for last names, and I'd appreciate any correspondence to be addressed to "Vern" until further notice.

I woke up early this morning to the sight of my kind of visitors: elk. A herd of them. One was particularly interested in me- just eyeballing me while I smoked and eyeballed him. He didn't budge until I got up, then he darted off toward his friends. That was a great way to start the day, even though this cold I got from Leah's kids is getting stickier!.

I packed up and headed back toward Rawlins feeling as though I had grown a vagina for being freaked out so easily, but glad that I rode it out using the Platter experience. I had also had time to think about the wisdom of going further north. I decided no. I'm far enough north; maybe too far. I like warm. Warm: gooood. Plus, if I get to Lander and need to be 'stealthy' again, which is a certainty here, I'll have to deal with bigger critters than the High Plains Redneck. I'm not yet wanting to play mountain- man, so I've decided to get back to I-80 and point my thumb west toward California. Maybe Fresno to see what my sister's got going on. If not, I should be close enough to get toward Astoria from there.

There I go... making plans again. I think I just make this shit up to SEEM like I have a plan...

Way to go Vern-o!



Oh, about the lesson. If you're going to stealth camp. Don't camp ANYWHERE that there's a likelihood someone will show up! Laziness kills! Or at least scares the Bejeesus out of you...

5/28: Wyoming!

DAY #9
Rawlins, WY


Yesterday went better than expected, and contrary to how the day felt when it started. I slept later than I wanted to, and of course drug- ass getting packed up and out Leah's door. I think it was 10:30 or so when I finally found myself walking toward the West Glenwood on- ramp to I-70 west. I hung out a the little truckstop for a while watching people before I plopped down, leaned up against the pack and waited.

I'm not much of a hitchhiker at all. I don't bother putting my thumb out or anything. I figure if someone cant figure out that I'm looking for a ride- you know, lying on a backpack at an interstate on- ramp and all... It didn't bother me just sitting there. It was a beautiful day, sunny, NO WIND, and I felt like a snake sunning himself by the road. I understand why they do that now!

I did finally get a ride after an hour and a half or so, with a kid fresh out of college from Ogalalla (sp?), Nebraska. He was on his way to Rifle, where he lives now working on oil rigs or something similar. He was a pretty cool guy, and loved what I was doing! It seems when I saw "I have no idea" when people ask where I'm going, I get the big "WHOA!" of amazement everytime. I forget the kids name, and didn't get a picture, but he was a pretty good guy, and his information on CO- 13 convinced me to go that way out of Rifle, and get off the interstate.

I walked through Rifle, about 3-4 miles or so, while stopping at a sporting goods store to see about maps. The one I needed was $8.99 so I decided-- I didn't need it. Getting out of town was a breeze, and when the sidewalk ended, I sat down to take a break. While I was sitting there looking for my gum, a cabbed- pickup stopped and told me to "throw my shit in the back and get your ass in here!". I was amazed how quickly that happened.

Doug was his name and he had just finished his 2- week straight work- week, and was heading home for his week off. He asked where I was going, and initially I told him toward Meeker; aiming low as always! But then I found out he lived in northern WYOMING, about 50 miles from the Montana line, and 45 miles "east of Yellowstone", as I would heard REPEATEDLY over the next few hours! He told me he'd take me as far as I wanted to go, so after setting my eyes on US 40, I figured I'd see how it went and if it went well, shoot for Wyoming.

"Well" is a relative term, isn't it?

As with Dennis a few days before, Doug was drinking. And I believe he was rather baked. He was trying to show me how much of an outlaw he was at first, naturally assuming that's what I was. I let him go... it was kind of funny. Although he was a bit odd, and his driving was-- interesting-- I soon figured he was essentially harmless, and probably safe enough to at least get me to Craig.

Our first little adventure was in Meeker, where he decided he needed a beer. We stopped at a neat little bar where he went inside and proceeded to buy the bar a round. There were 5 people there; big spender! A guy was trying to sell a carved wooden dog for $250, and I believe Doug would have bought it if I hadn't asked him "What the f**k are you going to do with that?" "Talk to it!" he said. When I didn't fall over laughing at his humor, I think he realized that he was acting the fool in trying to impress everyone with his little stack of $20's! He quickly finished his beer, everyone thanked him for the drink, and we left to continue up 13.

Doug said he needed more beer when we got to Craig, and it was there that I looked at the map for the first time since Rifle. We were 40 miles or so from the Wyoming line, and he'd agreed to let me drive from there, so I decided to get greedy and stick with Doug to I-80. Plus, I'd actually begun to like the guy. He was a big talker with all sorts of bravado and fronts, but once you got thru all that he was great. I'd find out later HOW great.

The Wyoming line came and went. I got my picture of the sign; Doug peed. I asked him if he wanted me to drive-- REALLY wanting him to let me!-- and he let me know that he was in- charge here: "I'll let you know" in a low, gruff voice. Great. So I kicked back, and watched the scenery, which by the way was magnificent- especially alond CO- 13. Better than I even imagined, and ample place to throw the tent down.

By now I planned on getting out where 789 (new name for 13) met up w/ I-80, in hopes of getting a ride, or at least filling my water supply and walking on. Problem though. There WAS a gas staion there 25 years ago, but now nothing but a fireworks stand. And I mean NOTHING. I scoped it out; Doug peed. I decided I'd keep on with Doug east on I-80 toward the next truck stop, or at least semblance of civilization. That turned out to be 25 miles down, here in Rawlins. We took exit 214 to the TA travel center, and I had my eyes on the KOA across the interstate. Doug insisted I let him buy me Subway. I had been refusing his offers of food the whole way, but by now I was hungry and the thought of a 12" Tuna that I could split for dinner and breakfast seemed smart.

By now Doug had calmed down a bit, and we were getting along very well. He said he was glad he picked me up, and for the last 3 hours had been pressuring me to ride all the way to his house "45 miles from Yellowstone!". I must say I considered it, but the thought of going that far north didn't really appeal to me, plus I still wanted to get to US 191.

While we were sitting there eating, a woman walked over to out table and asked how far Evanston was. Through the coarse of the conversation, we learned that she was going to PORTLAND and was on a limited budget. I offered her $20 and help driving if she'd let me ride, and Doug offered to throw in $50! I thought he was full of shit... but then realized he's do it. She would have taken me, but there was now way I was getting me and my pack into her car. NO WAY. It was stuffed. I would have had to ride like Grandma in "Vacation". Too bad. So Close!! But alas... Wyoming it is.

Doug and I said goodbye, and he handed me a folded piece of paper and quickly got into his truck. I went inside to finish Dinner, and chill out for awhile, opened it up, and inside: $25. I was amazed. This guy had driven me from Rifle, CO to Rawlins, WY... bought me dinner... offered to pay for gas in exchange for my transit... AND given me $25. All I had done was be honest with him and treat him with the resepct I thought he deserved. That's the only thing I can figure.

I hoofed it over to the KOA, got a tent site, talked to Shalain and crashed. I woke up coughing in the middle of the night, and today have a sore throat, and a sore shoulder from sleeping wrong! I'm hioping Leah's kids didn't get me sick.

I got up this morning, did some laundry (YES!), took a shower (woohoo!), packed and walked off at about 11:15. I stopped at a little park on Washington St. while I made my way toward the library, and as I was sitting there an elderly lady asked me if I was hitchhiking, I said "sort of", and she came over and sat with me. We chatted while I ate, and she told me she used to hitch all over the place in her younger years. We talked about the town, her son she had just me for the first time, and eventually we walked off together toward the library. She walked me all the way here! She also gave me her address and asked me to call or send a post card. Nice lady this Jeanette.

The library doesn't have a timer on the computer, so I was able to upload pics, send Couchsurf requests for Lander, WY and update this.

I think I've decided to hoof it up 287 toward Lander, then take 28 southwest from there. I really want to avoid Rock Springs, which I keep hearing nasty stories about.

Over 200 miles yesterday. Not too bad!

Wyoming

5/27: Back On the Road

DAY #8

I've decided to get up early and try to get on the road west, then north. I hesitate to write that in stone because of course it could change. I chatted with Chris for quite a while Monday and thought I'd try to get to Vernal, Utah one way or another then take US 191 north into Wyoming toward Yellowstone, then west again into Idaho, partially retracing his steps from his cross- country walk in '03/ '04. There are a few ways to get there depending on how I decide to do it. I COULD hitch it into Utah, and pick up US 6/ 191 directly from I-70. If I do that, I'm locked into hitchhiking until I can get off the interstate. Another route is to get to Rifle, CO and take CO 13 north toward Meeker, then to Craig or take what looks to be a desolate stretch of road to Dinosaur, CO. Either way, I'd then pick up US 40 and go west to Vernal. I'm leaning toward the CO 13 route right now... we'll see. I also spent part of the day considering other routes... including toward Fresno, CA where I could stop in to see my sister. I noticed US 6 crosses Nevada and breaks off in Bishop, CA very close to Fresno... and the Pacific Crest Trail. The Pacific Crest is on my short list of likely places to add to Hwy. 101 in Oregon and Northern California, but to make it at least semi- efficient, I'd need to take it from Fresno into Oregon toward Mt. Hood, then move west to return south on 101. Doing that though, I'd miss Idaho which I'd like to cross of my list of states!

Indesiciveness blows.

Monday was another uneventful, relaxing day. James took off either back to the mountains or to his friend's van. Other than that, not alot going on now; I stayed a day too long. There's no tension or anything here, other than my own restlessness. Leah and her husband have been great, and made me feel pretty much at home. It's just past time for me to get on my way.

One neat thing though: at about 10pm when Rob & Sonny found a dog. A big ol' Husky/ Chow mix that appears to them to be abandoned. Becca's trained in veterinary- type- things and thinks he's between 6 mos and a year... and ALREADY weighs 50- 60#. A big boy indeed. I'm contemplating taking him along, but of course that would mean that the rides would drop off significantly, thus slowing me WAYYY down. I'd probably be walking the vast majority of the way, and of course will have to try to feed him as best I can. He'd probably enjoy the northern route but, because of his thick coat, I'm not sure the Mojave's a good idea for him (or me?). Also, I'd need Leah to drive us out of Glenwood at least to New Castle, and I hate to ask her to do that. I need to think on that one a bit more, but it's odd that he showed up when he did. Leah pointed that out too... Something for you to look forward to I guess! "Did he take the dog or not??" See pics of him below...

I talked to Shalain a bit tonight, and realized that things have been quite enlightening for me personally. I've rediscovered some dormant parts of myself, or at least some facets of my personality that I wasn't using anymore. Street- sense. Ability to size people up quickly, relate to them as needed & even manipulate some to prevent unsavory situations (Dennis). Ft. Morgan's weather ignited my survival instincts and showed that I can still adapt. This probably sounds elementary, but before I left these were some concerns. I had wondered if my sedentary, cushy, mindless existence had rendered me lame and ready to be put down. It hasn't. I'm rather eager to see what else I can summon when I need to.

Vitam Impendere Vero--- from theory to experience. In other words, I know my theories, now I need to know how I respond when I get out there and live them. Not a bad start so far.

I also looked back at the pictures I've posted on Picasa over the last 3 weeks or so; last week in particular. I am amazed at all that's already happened. Jackson State Park seems like a month, but Chris dropped me off only a week ago. I can almost smell these pictures when I see them, and can go back and re- experience the feelings that were part of those moments. Quite intense!

Week two starts today, and parts of the rugged West are in front of me. At least there wont be tornadoes! Just heat & mountains & snakes ... Oh My!

Colorado