4/21: Maryland- On Foot

Bill and Laura's Realtor was to arrive at one, so we decided that, after some Innernets research, we would retire to our friendly DuPont Circle coffee shop for caffeine & calm reflection. After some innovative searching, Chris discovered a bus that would take us all the way from central DC, thru Annapolis, over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge to Kent Island, MD. From there: improvise.

Laura came home from work shortly after much needed showers, so we had a chance to say goodbye with promises to get together if their move to Boston was complete by the time we got there. I never did get to chat with Bill about Africa, unfortunately. Damn South Park; why must they be so funny?

Since it was a pleasant, partially sunny afternoon, we deemed it appropriate to vacate the familiar stools, and venture to the actual DuPont Circle where we could sit on the grass, snap photos, and I could begin writing my posts. It never ceases to amaze how quickly one can get behind on these. I lost myself in Pocketmail, and before I knew it, it was time to get to 20th and K and our MTA bus out of Swamp Politic. There was some slight confusion about which stop we needed, but figured it out just as the eastbound 950 arrived.

The fare was $5 each, which is more than reasonable considering how far we were going, and the bus is far more comfortable than the typical city bus... or Greyhound for that matter. It smelled much better than the Dirty Dog too! The commuter began to fill up as we left DC, so I strapped on my headphones and wrote for almost the entire hour- ride to Kent Island, pausing to take pics of the Chesapeake Bay and the bridge that crosses it.

The bus deposited us at a Park n' Ride situated beneath another, smaller bridge that is pedestrian- friendly. Chris and I came to the giddy realization that we were finally "in it". No planned rides, no beds, no more occupying someone's space. Nothing but the loads we were carrying. I have to tell you, that felt good! It was very nice to start near the water after coming from the high desert, and we immediately met a nice, outgoing, Korean War veteran who was admiring the bay from his bicycle. A fine introduction to Maryland on Foot. Several other people waved and honked as we made our initial steps toward Delaware. Quite friendly, these Marylanders.

I was amused at how quickly my mind re- adapted to nomad- mode. My body on the other hand: nosso much. I had adjusted the hip belt improperly, and for the first mile it pinched the nerve above my left ass- cheek. I'm not sure what's more pathetic: that my ass was the first thing to hurt, or that it took a mile for me to do something about it.

We followed the route adjacent to US-50 into the first town, Grasonville, where I noticed a 7/11 and figured it would have a payphone to upload updates. Since it was now nearly 6, we figured we'd just find a spot nearby to stealth camp for the night, eat some food, and get to it in full- force tomorrow. I began to feel the first indications of heel blisters by then too, so that would also give me a chance to try to get ahead of that painful situation.

I filled up on water, bought a Coke with money from my over- inflated change pouch (it's NOT a purse, goddammit!), and we then crossed over US-50 to a wooded area we'd seen from the store. Once on the other side, Chris mumbled something, in what sounded like a made- up D & D language, and inexplicably bounded over the guardrail. I thought at first he was on an imaginary quest for the Mystical Talisman, or perhaps the Fair Maiden of the Wood... then I thought of Don Quixote attacking the windmill... before getting slightly pissed when realizing that I'd now have to go seek him out. I was thinking of him at that point less as Quixote, and more as Rocinante's hind quarters. All was well however. After plowing thru thorn bushes, I found our Nuevo Quixote climbing a tree... literally. He was climbing a tree and was quite tickled about it.

He had happened upon a clearing, which appeared to be the perfect place to camp. We decided to go with single- tarp formation, hanging the 8 x 10 tarp over the bivys, packs, and our heads in case of rain. I was looking forward to some hot oats, when we heard it...

Severe weather sirens.

The tarp was blocking our view of the western sky, and while Chris dug out the radio, I saw approaching doom. I believe my eloquent response to this revelation was: "Holy fucking Christ, dude!" Yes, I am even more of a wordsmith in real life.
Our flimsy tarp shelter now held new significance as we quickly scrambled to get things tightened down and protected. The weather band radio said there was a severe thunderstorm warning with the possibility of 60 mph gusts. I surveyed the already- fallen trees that had been rooted in water- saturated ground, and had visions of one of them paying an unwelcome visit from above.

The winds rose, skies opened, lightning flashed... for about 30- minutes. Then it gradually dissipated, and as I type this, we now have a beautiful, cloudless, yet damp, first night out. I feel a bit like Vern again, yet instead of wild- rednecks, this time it was a puny thunderstorm.

The annoying thing about tonight is NOT the rain, but the fact that I cannot seem to organize myself. I know that comes after a couple of days... but Christ! I'm on my third fucking lighter already!

Both of us are feeling an intense, excited calm, if that makes any sense at all. It's hard to explain, but despite the rain and US-50's racket, all is well in the world.

4/20: A D.C. Birthday

I slept much later than I would have liked, considering it was our last day with Trent, and that he had made arrangements to have lunch with his parents, sister, and nephew before driving us into DC. Trent's dad had worked with he and Chris on a film some years back, and wanted to be sure to see him before we left.


For whatever reason, we just couldn't get going and finally left at around 1. We made a stop at the post office, where I mailed now- "extra" shirts home, and arrived at Trent's folk's house much later than intended. I felt shitty about that. They had already eaten by then, plus our foot- dragging had thrown Trent's schedule off; he'd now have to rush to get back from DC to pick his daughter, Cassidy, up from school.

His parents live in a gorgeous house in the country that he, of course, had built himself. We had a quick lunch, then they listened as Chris recounted his stories of his cross- country walk. I added a few things from last year where I could. Trent's mom and dad seemed like wonderful, enjoyable people and it reminded me a bit of what I'd missed growing up without a full family. I wish we could have spent some more time there.



We left for DC close to 2:30, and were soon jumping out of the Audi near DuPont circle, just a few streets away from P Street, where Karessa had lived during my time in DC. It struck me how neat it was to be back here, in a backpack, 14- years later. I also imagined the degree to which I would have been pissing myself if someone had placed me in this very situation in 1995! "I'm hip about time man, but I just got to go." Name the movie, win a prize....

Bill & Laura's place was close by, so we strapped on the packs in the drizzle, then into our haven: a coffee shop. We loaded up on the bottomless cup, and I updated again while enjoying the mental exercise of recounting the events of the last few days. Not a lot had "happened", but the couple days at Trent's were incredibly cool.



I held no expectations for this next stop, as I knew next to nothing about Bill & Laura, other than he was a "conservative" who had been elected as Neighborhood Commissioner. I also knew that he was heavily involved in African- aid, traveling there many times. This last fact appealed to me; I have a growing urge to go to Africa. This was rekindled a bit while at the coffee shop, as I chatted up a canvasser for Care.org. I refuse to get involved with the Red Cross, due to my first- hand experience after Katrina, and wont take part in any of these $10,000 "adventure trips" sold to college kids under the guise of "charity". In a nutshell, I find it best to avoid ANY organization who ONLY wants your money. I'm sure I'll elaborate sometime, but my hope was to pick Bill's brain a bit about getting involved, on a grassroots level, IN Africa while avoiding the money- whores on this end. Good luck with that, Todd.

We arrived at their house and, despite Chris's description, I was stunned to discover that they owned the entire building, which is more like a museum. There are three levels, all theirs, and decorated beautifully. This may have been the swankiest house I have ever been inside as a guest!

Bill & Laura were a surprise in and of themselves; much younger than I had pictured! I had always imagined them in their 50's, but they seemed close to my age, if not younger. It never occurred to me to ask. Both of them were very welcoming, and again, none of the third- wheel stuff.

We discovered a common love: South Park and commenced to watching the John Edward episode after Chris tried, in futility, to explain the metaphysical quest. To his defense, this isn't a conversation you can just "have" with anyone. Most will either just "get it" or won't. Trying to logically explain it to those without common experiences is extremely difficult, because you're central character doesn't die on a cross.

Speaking of Messiah Complex, Chris turned 33 today which, as he felt compelled to remind all who listened, was the age Jesus supposedly died. After South Park, Bill & Laura took us out for burgers to celebrate Chris's crucifixion age and we had another really neat conversation. Not nearly as intense as the one at Trent's, but taken from another angle. Bill has an obviously brilliant, analytical, scientific mind. Just the sort that is a challenge to religious, spiritual, or mystical people. He asks great questions and challenges you to answer them, without being condescending. He's genuinely curious about where you're coming from... even though you're not going to convince him! This was just the exercise I needed, after having conversations almost exclusively with those who agree for so long. Masturbation's great... but now and then it's fun to have to work for it! In the end, it seemed that we were much more aligned socially and politically than I would would have thought, while eventually agreeing that the search for "answers" is just as important as finding them, because you learn much about yourself and others in the process. I also got a hearty laugh when I realized that I had stayed both at an anarchist commune in Oklahoma City, and in the home of a D.C.elected official... in the span of a week. Another very interesting evening, to say the least.

After another couple of religion- mocking episodes of South Park, we tried unsuccessfully to upload pictures again and got to bed at a decent hour. The original "plan" (ha!) was to stay in DC thru Wednesday, but that spontaneously changed, as we would be in the way of their open- house on Tuesday. We decided it would be best to find a route over the Chesapeake Bay and finally get into the backpacks...

4/19: Annapolis, MD

Waking up between noon and 1, Sunday started on the verge of Hell. I honestly wondered for the first hour if I'd be able to function at all because of the grape- induced hangover! Thankfully, after some water, coffee, and a few bites to eat, I felt a whole lot better.

Trent needed to go to a fundraiser in Annapolis for Meagan's ballet company, so Chris and I were off to wander the tourist- trap for a few hours. He had described it as a town with "nothing practical", unless you're a tourist. That was proven to be the case, but since Chris and I WERE pseudo- tourists, it served its purpose. Being the home of the Naval Academy, there were lots of soon- to- be- sailors walking about, looking proud in their officer- candidate dress whites. I had to chuckle at the memories of my Navy days; I know that look of brainwashed pride quite well!

The weather we had been ahead of all the way across country finally caught up, so it was a chilly, damp day, and I obviously didn't feel like walking much, so after a quick trip to the bay and a hello to Trent's friend we stopped off for lunch at a neat little 50's style diner, then found a coffee shop where Chris wrote, I updated, and the co- ed across from us was busy reading, and looking good.

Trent picked us up at around 9, and it was back to Chesapeake Beach where we watched a bit of Century of the Self after a viewing of the documentary Trent had made of the southern- state road trip with his daughter, Cassidy, last year. It was damn good; something I would definitely watch if I happened across it on the Travel Channel.

Chris and I struggled to learn the process of copying and uploading pics on a Mac, until we'd had enough and got to bed about 3am... much later than I would have guessed when I woke up!

4/18: Chesapeake Beach, MD

There were encouraging indications as to how Trent & I would click soon after we got into the car and headed east from DC into E. Maryland. It was apparent that he felt strongly about things, and one of the things I admire most is authentic, thought- out passion. I knew all was good once he made an almost sheepish comment about getting on his "soap box", and sharing his thoughts on the death of the American city, how people have isolated themselves in their boxes... inside their gated communities. I had to laugh to myself remembering Kim commenting on my tendency to rant, and it seemed I was going to greatly enjoy our quick stay at Trent's.

He called his girlfriend, Meagan, and arranged for her to meet us at his place in Chesapeake Beach. Meagan is fascinating in her right; an exquisite ballet dancer who wasn't intimidated by the conversation... although I doubt she agreed with much of it!

His house was built by he and his father, and is very, very, cool! It's a tri-level, east coast style (tall, skinny... is that a style?) that's maybe a half- mile from Chesapeake Bay. There was no television, which I found remarkable (and admirable) considering he has a 14-yr. old daughter, that he and Chris had met in film school... and was still active in shooting and video editing. I quickly wondered if he too had ever called himself a whore, as I had during my radio days. I never listened to the radio after that realization, even while grunting thru it...poorly.

Trent and Meagan set about making cheeseburgers and pouring wine as we all gathered around the coffee table and began chatting. I was struck by how inquisitive he was, asking good questions, with multiple follow- ups about the trip and the reasons/ methods behind it. He was sincerely interested, not simply in the typical anecdotal "this one time at band camp" stuff which is fine for most, but also the philosophy behind it. It was the kind of conversation that once it got going, was like a steam roller. The kind that I live for! Since he's involved in film, he had a digital video camera handy, so he and Meagan proceeded to interview us. The creative vibe was nearly as intoxicating as the wine. (not quite- as I would brutally realize in the morning) A very cool night indeed; I surely wasn't feeling like the third wheel as I had assumed I would.

In that sense, everything had so far exceeded expectations for me. I still believe it comes from the realization Chris and I came to in Albuquerque the night my car died; that things seemed to lie out perfectly once we took the attitude that we are simple side- car passengers both taking part in AND, more importantly, observing this "dramedy" of our own lives. That sense of surrender and acceptance can be a powerfully liberating thing.

Four bottles of wine, and seven hours later, we were out of wine and long since had stopped having structure to our little debateathon. And I was hammered. I don't recall the last time I had actually lost coordination; I am usually more agile than when I'm sober, but when I bounced my head off the door frame, I knew it was long past time for bed! Meagan had probably sensed where the night was headed, going to bed early, leaving we boys to play in our sandbox. I had a great time, but I'd pay for it Sunday!

4/18: Virginia & DC

Saturday started early, at least for Devin and Leif. We had gotten a good piece of Virginia behind us before stopping for the night at a rest stop 90- miles or so south of Roanoke.

After a quick refill with the remaining veggie oil stored from Memphis & Nashville, it was off for the final push thru the rest of Virginia, into Maryland, and finally Washington, D.C.

Virginia was one of the pleasant surprises of the trip so far. The western part of the state is disturbingly beautiful, at least the sliver I saw from the bus on I-81. The slight regret returned in that we hadn't gone thru this part of the country afoot. Maybe later...

The drive toward Winchester and I-66 went quickly; almost too quickly to suit me. It seemed like 300 miles were gone in a blink of the eye, and coming into Washington brought back a flood of memories. Devin was driving thru the same area I'd lived in, for a few months, back in 1995. I wondered what had become of the people I had known, and lost touch with, during my time there. And, I again wondered: how was I living there alone if I was only 15? These are the questions that linger...

Chris coordinated with his friend, Trent, as we began to gather our things and arrange our packs for the drop off in DC. Devin had a friend to see downtown, so we asked him to drop us off at the Mall so we could goof around, playing the part of Japanese tourists, while we waited for Trent to get into the city from his home in Chesapeake Beach, which is on the bay about a half- hour's drive south of Annapolis.

The weather was perfect... sunny and in the mid 70's again... as we stepped off Zeitgeist Apparatus (Devin's pet name) for the last time. I had come to enjoy being on the bus and the routines that we had fallen into. I also felt that I was leaving old friends behind, ones that I had known forever, because of the experiences we had shared over the 5+ days we had traveled together. We had a good laugh at Tennessee Law Enforcement's expense, signed their guestbook, took a few pics, did the man- hug thing, then stepped off toward The Mall- with the huge falic- tribute to capitalism looming overhead. This felt remarkable. We'd boarded the bus in Santa Fe and disembarked nearly 2000 miles away, in the heart of the most powerful city on earth. At the risk of sounding like Chris, we are a couple of badasses.

We hiked a roundabout route from Constitution Ave., around the Reflecting Pool (Forrest!), to the Lincoln Memorial, snapping pictures and relishing our role as spectacles. People were sneaking pictures of US... at the Lincoln Memorial. Ha!
Trent called after about an hour, so we trekked back down the Mall to meet him at Thor's Penis. We then walked to his car, near the Capitol Building, and drove off to Maryland.

4/17: E. Tennessee

We all got up pretty late, and pretty hungover; mine more from being allowed to smoke inside a bar again. Devin had moved the bus to a theater parking lot at some point, and immediately went into cleaning mode for quite awhile. It reminded me of trying, still, to remove all remaining evidence of last night's March of the Pigs.

My skepticism surrounding Chad's veggie oil was proven ludicrous. The barrel was completely full of the cleanest oil I have seen to date, and in such a place behind the strip mall where we could simply pull along side, using the electric gas- pumpy- thingy to take it straight into the tank. Chad was working, so we gave he and his co- workers a tour of the bus and then were off, completely full, with an extra 15- gallons loaded in extra buckets they had given us. Even the weather was perfect. 75... sunny. I honestly got the impression that Tennessee was trying to make good on the night before!

While we were there, Chris received a call from his friend, Trent, who lives outside of Washington, DC confirming that we had a place to stay when we arrived. We now had our next destination solidly in place.

Devin made a quick stop to pick up filters, then we were off for a quiet day of reflection, riding, and watching the beauty of E. Tennessee pass us by. There were lots of thoughts considering that we were doing this part MUCH too quickly. This part of the country would be killer on foot! I didn't dwell on it much however; something else is driving us, and to continue the metaphor, I am making a conscious effort to play the role of that side- car passenger.

Chris and I also discussed our different perspectives regarding Oklahoma City, and some budding ideas regarding the perception of "moral superiority" as it applies to imposed dogma. I need to step the fuck back occasionally and try to remember that I often don't have nearly enough information to presume to judge. Oklahoma City was one of these times. I wasn't "one of them" because I had been brought there, randomly, as a passenger with people who DID belong! Duh, douchebag.

We finally left I-40 after nearly five full days, getting on I-81, then crossing in to Virginia sometime around midnight. Devin decided to skip Virginia Beach, choosing instead to take the route thru Washington to Delaware. We've set a tentative off- load point: Annapolis, MD. Another fucking "plan" (ha!)...

4/16: Nashville II

We finally arrived in Nashville shortly before midnight, after the 45- minute detainment. Kim's boyfriend, Chad, had suggested a place next to the catering business he works for. It was easy to find, and there was a handy place to park the bus, right across the street, with built- in security: a bank. It was good to see Kim again. I enjoy her energy, and the week I spent here last summer. I feel fortunate that we got the chance to at least hang out for a few hours after the "plan" (ha!) to stay with her fell thru. Chad's a neat guy, too. He's a big boy... probably 6'3" and 250 or so. He grew up in Alabama, and has that good ol' boy attitude which makes him accessible. He has an authenticity about him that was missing from Rich last year. Not a lot of bullshit with Chad. I LOVE that!

The six of us got quickly acquainted in the parking lot, then it was off to Players Inn. We had envisioned it as some sort of dirty- south meat market, but quickly realized it wasn't THAT kind of players they were catering to specifically. It was a sports bar. I'm sure that appealed to Devin & Leif!

As it turned out, it didn't matter at all. We got a large table next to an outlet to charge my phone, and proceeded to drink away the East Memphis Molestation. The bad karma from the cops was about to be replaced with an abundance of the good stuff. Thankfully, Tennessee bars are open until 3 so Kim and I had time to get caught up nicely. Chad decided to buy Chris an early birthday shot, which he returned in kind, while I was happy chugging my share of the Bud Light pitchers. I felt like I REALLY needed that outlet, and was glad to have it!

Chad also divulged that he had a 50- gallon drum full of barely used veggie oil behind the caterers, which was literally two doors down from the bar, in the same strip mall. How convenient is that? He was eager to dispose of it, and we could top off again in the morning without having to deal with Nashville- at all. I confess, I was a bit skeptical because that seemed just too easy!

We got to bunk at around 4am. Chad had left a bit earlier, choosing to sleep at the shop, rather than drive home. Kim, being the eternal trooper, stayed until the end, and I was sorry to see her leave after such a quick visit. She had pointed out that both she and Chad will be back in Michigan at the end of June, so there's the possibility we may cross paths again before we return west. No "plans" (ha!) however!

4/16: Memphis- Lawdogs

When we last saw our hero, he assumed he was riding toward Little Rock and pondering contact possibilities. In reality, he would awake in the hamlet of Searcy, AR, nowhere near Bill Clinton's old whorin... er... stomping grounds. Devin had decided to bypass it via my old friend from last summer in Asheboro, NC: US-64.

I scoped out the unfamiliar Walmart parking lot area, then Chris and I stopped into IHOP to feed ourselves and our cells. From there, it was a pleasant couple of hours riding thru back country Arkansas toward West Memphis, then across my Rubicon into "The East". I always get an odd feeling crossing the Mississippi, it's a much different world on the Memphis side, at least to me. I then repeatedly mocked Chris's goofy notion that we were now on the "east coast".

We needed veggie so, once thru the city, Devin chose an area to scavenge where Chris and I paired up for the now- familiar routine of chatting up eateries. We are quite good at this, as you can imagine, and after perhaps an hour, we hit the used- grease motherlode at The Cajun Catfish Company, a swanky seafood place.
The manager was all about bio- diesel and, more importantly, they had a FULL dumpster full of nearly pristine oil. In addition, there was ample space out back to park the bus and do our thing. The weather was perfect, sunny and in the mid 70's, and once we got going, the whole process was fun. The people we chatted with through the course of the day were all friendly, and some quite amusing. Particularly Bob at "Bob's Place". He reminded me of the owner of "The Country Bunker" in the Blues Brothers. Was that character's name Bob, too? "Well, I sure would appreciate it..."

We filled the tank and all the spare receptacles at the Cajun Catfish Company, and got back on I-40 in good spirits, happy to be in Tennessee, and making arrangements to meet up with Kim and her boyfriend when we got to Nashville to stop for the night. It was a great day... and then...

Flashing lights.

Leif had passed an unmarked cop parked in the median. We noticed them, and commented on the fact that they were gawking madly at the bus as it passed. The pullover was half- expected... what happened next was a disgusting display of misplaced power, paranoia, and pathetic futility... all under the guise of your "safety and security."

The reason given for the pullover was that they "couldn't read the dirty license plate", which is Piggie for "we think you look suspicious." If you're over the age of 15 and believe differently at this point in your life, please go away. Then keep going...

Chris has already provided a rundown of the details, so I'll try to conserve space, but it entailed having all of our IDs pulled, being interrogated (complete with poorly- veiled threats), then pulled off the bus to sit on the side of I-40. All with the machismo that even Pancho Villa would find better suited to a frat house.
I've discussed my disgust for these arbitrary, Gestapoesqe "I don't like your look" searches, and at length with Chris, Shalain, and Kim before. I see them as the primary, singular example of un- Americanism; abuses of authority. The one thing that anyone living in this country should be immune from, based on (what used to be) our ideals.

It occurred to me to ask, forcefully, WHY they were running my ID. What cause did they have to search me? My blood was boiling rapidly, but quickly realized that these weren't ordinary highway cops. These were drug- hunters looking for traffickers. To my amazement, and perhaps everlasting shame, I managed to keep my mouth shut. I answered their questions, and sat on the ground watching in quiet rage as Devin signed a search consent, they brought in the dog, then proceed to literally ransack the bus. All for NO real reason.

Amerika, I love ya!

As bad as this was for the rest of us, what they did to Leif was unconscionable. He suffers from Social Anxiety Disorder so naturally stammers a bit, and gets visibly perturbed when he's nervous. These investigative "geniuses" thought they were REALLY onto something while all four loomed over him, in ATF/ tactical- ops looking outfits complete with sidearms on display, asking him why he was "so nervous." Mocking him. I still don't have the words to tell you how disgusted I was, and still am. I've never had a great admiration for cops, due to my own "adventures in justice", but this was something different; it had a sinister, authoritarian stench to it.

Of course they found nothing, much to their obvious chagrin. They seemed perplexed as Scooby Doo bounded off the bus to play with his handler next to the highway, while the rest of The Corp of Futility had finally had enough and told us we were "free to go". They were going out of their way to let all of us know that Snoopy had snooped out a baggie that had "once had held pot, he'll find anything!" Obviously Blondie's sniffing powers were something to behold. Yeah, that's amazing... except Wonderpup and his Band of Merry Fascists missed the jarful of weed, sitting in plain sight, next to the driver's seat. I had to laugh when a certain, distinct smell made it's way to the front as we approached Nashville.

So... consider all the shady ethical examples presented by Tennessee's Finest. THEN consider that they missed the very thing they were after? THAT'S the illusion of safety & $ecurity that erodes freedom and liberty. Maybe you Tea Party people should start there rather than with approved- party dialectics.

We all felt quite violated after this, and tried to console Leif who was feeling guilty and was obviously traumatized after the way they tried to humiliate him. I've grown quite fond of him. He's a gentle, good- hearted person who's just uncomfortable and nervous in his own skin at times. He most certainly did not deserve that.

The next few hours to Nashville were a bit edgy. I set up a place to meet Kim and Chad on the far NW side, keeping in mind that we ALL needed a drink or ten.. .

4/15: E. Oklahoma & Arkansas

After staying up late, it was slow going. Devin, Leif, and Chris made trips back to the house for coffee, to use the bathroom, etc. while I remained at the bus savoring some alone time and taking advantage of the chance to update, and think a bit.

At some point, Devin made his way back to the bus and we finally had a conversation about Chris and I possibly bypassing Nashville all together and continuing on to perhaps DC, Virginia Beach, or even the Delmarva Peninsula. Devin quite honestly doesn't care and seems to enjoy the extra help in securing and loading the veggie oil. Nashville has lost its charm since Kim's roommate backed out on her and neither of us have an urge to navigate its sprawl needlessly and see nothing else drawing us to Tennessee. Why not keep going? Devin still has to decide which route he's taking to Delaware, where he has friends to see, and that will determine much so stay tuned. No matter what, we should be within spitting distance of the Atlantic by Chris's birthday on Monday. Here's to hoping I can finally stick my foot in it, get the damn picture, and tell that residual obsession to go to Hell!

The rest of the day was uneventful outside of the search for veggie oil. We didn't really start looking until 4:00, found none in Oklahoma City, then stopped in Shawnee where we finally had some luck at a Garfield's. Afterwords, Devin stopped at Walmart for supplies while I drug Chris thru a carnival being held in the adjacent parking lot. I was feeling nostalgic for my carnie days of 2008, but thankfully the brisk little stroll thru the midway may have cured that little affliction!

While sitting in the parking lot and munching on freshly purchased Cheerios, Chris and I were approached by a pair of women in an SUV who asked if we were on our way to "Swagstock" in Missouri. My clever reply was "What the hell's Swagstock?" Apparently it's a biker- type gathering held in Salem, MO in the spirit of Sturgis. These two were on their way, and said we looked like the type who'd be going, especially with the bus as a backdrop. "Must be the goatee.", I told myself; never been confused for a biker! Maybe it's my P90X abs and goofy hat? Either way, Chris was on top of things and passed them a website card, and they were off. That triggered a flurry of thought in my head, because that's exactly the type of adventure I'd happily embark upon once I get my sea- legs, so to speak!

Other than conversations on where we may possibly disembark from the bus, and pondering the mental makeup of Chris McCandless, that was about it. We crossed into Arkansas at about 11:30 or so, putting Oklahoma behind us. There is something about that place, and it gets a bad rap. Give it a chance sometime!

Devin got us down the Little Rock bypass before stopping down for the night. I'm contemplating trying to contact a carnie friend while we're here. Tricia was part of that Easter Sunday circle- event in New Orleans last year; the one with my Chickasha buddy that led to my Indian name... have I told you that one yet?