Back on the Road

For the last six weeks I've been working on a secluded mountain farm with no access to amenities such as running water or electricity, to which of course I'm well accustomed. However, the lack of access to communication and in particular Wi-Fi, had left me unable to update my sorry excuse for a blog. Either fortunately or unfortunately, there was little to write about; I bathed in a shallow pool along a creek, made some trinkets such as ashtrays, pipes and a pendant out of local clay, all of which I left for future residents, aside from the pendant which I wore on my hike out last night, as well as a straw fly-swatter. But mostly, my time was spent tending a garden that I don't have pictures of. In retrospect, I could have still taken other photos, but I largely forgot about the blog because there wasn't much traveling anyway.

At any rate, a series of inter-office disputes (if you haven't already gathered, I'm autistic and lack a level of diplomacy skills that seem necessary to work well with others, which was why I wanted to hitchhike in the first place based on the theory that forced reliance on socialization would help me develop said skills) has left me increasingly desiring to return to a more nomadic lifestyle. So I packed my things, wrote off my time as a loss, and made the long hike into town. After a quick call to my parents to update them, I started hiking out to find a good place to set down for the night, and was immediately picked up by the local sheriff. He drove me out to a nice secluded area not far from town and wished me well. I do enjoy the kindness I find in small towns as opposed to large cities like where I've grown up.

In my perpetual search for Wi-Fi, I came across possibly the nicest coffee shop I've seen, where I now sit in a beautiful cafe garden, enjoying my morning coffee, which was generously provided by a local by the name of Eric. The hospitality I've experienced here is a tremendous boon to my morale, and I find myself fantasizing about living in a place where the barista asks about how your family is doing and even strangers will smile and greet each other as friends.

Changes

I wake this morning feeling ready to attack the day with an enthusiasm unknown to mankind, and order a bus ticket to Modesto, but with several hours to experience Long Beach before it departs, I decide to hit the beach for all the beauty there is to be had there, not only in the local landscape, but the locals, as well. Realizing I'd hadn't visited the ocean since I was a child, I drop my pack on the beach and run into the water, clothes and all. Still too early in the year for many of the locals to consider "beach weather", I had the ocean to myself. I had never felt so free. This will be a place I return to.

There is nothing in the world that can put an end to a sense of freedom quite like a deadline, and slightly begrudgingly, I head to the bus station to take one last long trip to what is for now, the last destination on my adventure, Modesto.

Along the way to Modesto, a handful of riders are picked up along the way. One of which, a beautiful woman in her early twenties sat with me, and after some banter, reclined into my chest and with my arm around her, I am immediately reminded of the one thing I miss most about having a place to go home to at the end of the day. Perhaps I don't want to be alone at fifty-five after all.

05-19-2016

I arrive in Modesto quite early in the morning, and with no major corporations available to exploit for free wifi nearby, I purchase a Zephyr at the nearby Preservation coffee & tea cafe at the glowing recommendation of the previous customer. Considering that Modesto will be more or less home for the foreseeable future, this may become a regular stop for me. My compliments to the baristo, Doug.

People, Places and Things

I walked up to the San Diego bay area to have lunch on the beach, couldn't find a good place to crash, but noticed the VA hospital was only another five miles, and I'd left a prescription at home I wanted to see about getting filled, so I headed up there. This is where I met Danny, a New Yorker currently stuck in San Diego as well. We shared some food and coffee and discussed the intricacies of the Veteran services' red tape. And we certainly had the time to spare. It took eleven hours to not get what I came in for. But what the San Diego VA Medical Center lacks in efficiency, they make up for in presentation. If not for all the scrubs, I would have sworn that I had walked into a modeling agency on accident. San Diego women are stunning, and this was no exception. Unable to help me out, the young beauties send me on my way and I catch the 101 to Oceanside to finally put San Diego behind me. I spent all of twenty minutes in Oceanside, catching the bus to Long Beach with an unintentional short stay in Laguna Beach, because sometimes I'm a dumbass that doesn't listen. Passing through Fort Pendleton was easy enough, the adult jungle gyms really brought me back. Thankfully, having an expired ID and a large backpack didn't cause me any issues.

Arriving in long beach late in the afternoon, I immediately seek out the nearest grocery store and Starbucks. In this case, they're one in the same, the Starbucks in this Target being the first I've seen to not only have electrical outlets, but also the first to have honey packets since I left home. As I drink my tea and update my mother, I hear back about my potential job offer. My adventuring may have to come to a stay as more interesting projects present themselves. In the process of trying to calm my nerves as I make such a life-changing decision, I run into John, the self-proclaimed most famous homosexual in Long Beach. We discuss philosophy for several hours before he helps me find a good quiet squat (a major issue I had while in El Cajon) and takes off shortly afterward, leaving me with the very wise words "Don't get to my age and realize you're still all alone." Being of the mindset that I have a long ways to go before I reach his age, I respectfully acknowledge his advice, but it disappears in my mind as quickly as I hear it.

Zero Dazed

I've spent a couple nights in El Cajon as a traveler, now. They're not too keen on travelers here, least of which being hitchhikers. The homeless population on the other hand, seem to have a very tight-knit communal bond, far more so than I've seen before. I would imagine this is largely due to the fact that there's such a large degree of economic discrimination, that each other are all that they can rely upon. I've received help in the form of advice and directions from the local rough sleepers much in the last couple days, and not one has been hesitant to assist. The McDonald's that I visited last night for some quick calories and a WiFi connection, on the other hand, put my "for here" order in a bag and gave me the "Have a nice day" that really means "Now get the f* out". I know it won't make any difference to a multi-billion dollar corporation like McDonald's, but I'm going to make a point to stop eating there anyway.

As I finish that last sentence, I am immediately reminded that every rule has an exception. A kindly elderly veteran named Richard greeted me, and as old habits often do, I immediately straightened my posture and gave a confident "Good morning, sir." He smiled, undoubtedly recognizing not only the serviceman's gesture, but my pack as well, offered me money and well wishes. I declined politely, gesturing to my Starbucks cup and joking that I'd "only use it to buy overpriced coffee anyway", but accepted when he insisted. Reinstilled with the belief that the world is largely populated with the kind-hearted, my brief encounter with Richard will be the way I choose to remember this pleasant little suburb of San Diego.

If you'd like, you can buy me a drink.

Domestic $1.00 USD Import $3.00 USD Craft $5.00 USD

Looks Like a Zero Day

I hadn't found a good place to settle down for the night, so I ended up sleeping next to an onramp yet again. The steady rumble of traffic now being quite familiar to me, I quickly fell into a deep sleep and woke well rested. A trip to the mall for a coffee and some internet to check my messages leaves me with a difficult decision. I may have my dream job waiting for me if I leave the trail now. I'll need to stay in towns until I can find out more.

Getting Sick of Walking

This wouldn't be so bad, except for all the walking. Around mile 25 I finally decided to quit smoking. Like ending a friendship with someone who never pays back what they borrow, it was a remorseful farewell, but you still hope to never see them again.

Around noon, I again attempt to rest away the hottest hours of the day, only to find once again that the flies make sleeping impossible. This is not enjoying nature as I had envisioned, but rather tolerating it while under the pressure of a deadline. I may as well have just kept my office job for as much fun as this is. I need to get out of this desert and back to the forests where I feel more at home.

With little else to do but take in my surroundings, I realize that I'm surrounded by what appears to be miner's lettuce. I believe I've also seen tomatillos, but that's really just a guess. There is certainly an abundance of nettles. I've also encountered no fewer than a dozen good-sized rabbits. I could easily imagine staying well fed in this environment, given enough time to set traps and maintain an established campsite.

I got as far as Cibbets Flat Campground (around the 30 mile mark) before I started to feel nauseated and caught a ride to get a quick checkup from some medics who were on standby for a nearby 50 mile run. Turns out I just hadn't been eating enough, so I caught a ride into La Mesa to grab a bite to eat and be near a hospital just in case it turned out to be anything more serious. It doesn't seem to be at this point.

Now, my biggest issue is just getting back to the trail.

Just a Long Walk in a Park

I woke late, at around 8am. I had gone to sleep still feeling warm and hadn't used my thermals. The cold in the morning hours was just enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to inspire doing anything about it. It seems I lost more time than I intended, making up the lost sleep.

Only a few miles short if lake Morena, I siesta under a massive boulder. I'm down to about a half-liter of water, which should be just enough. I spent about an hour in the shade contemplating the heat, before deciding to dump my rice to reduce weight. I'll only be carrying what I need to get to the next refill point from now on.

I arrived at lake Morena with about a quarter of a cup of water. If I ever do this hike again, it'll be strictly night hiking with just a bug net for sleeping during the day and a four liter dromedary bag, and some Oreos. Food hasn't tasted good since I started my hike, especially anything cooked. After chugging nearly a liter of water, I filled both my bottles back up and doused myself in the shower stall. Would have preferred a real shower, but I have exactly $52 to last me the next six months and I could have spend $20 of it just trying to feel clean. I washed some clothes in the sink and left Morena around seven p.m. with the sun already setting and a goal of five more miles ahead of me. I'm glad I had, as most of it was uphill and the daytime heat would have made it hard to fare.

The creek shown on my map was little more than a muddy puddle. Dissapointed, to say the least, I turn in with less than an ideal amount of water.