With the help of a few "bump" rides, where I've gotten an exit or two further south, and a lot of walking, I've managed to get as far as Modesto. At this rate I should be getting to the south terminus around December. I'm very much looking forward to returning north where the bias towards backpack-burdened travelers is more favorable. Desparate times call for drastic measures, as they say. I'm currently sitting under a rather defunct but still operational bridge a short distance from a small yard and am seriously considering utilising the unwilling services of the freight trains that pass nearby as I sit in the shade to wait out the hotter hours of the day, due to a rather intense sunburn. During my wait I ran into an older gentleman that invited me to visit his church this Sunday. I really hope I'm not still around by then. Regardless, as a proponent of quitting one's job and abandoning worldly possesions to travel the countryside and fish, I think Jesus and I would have gotten along pretty well anyway. I also met a man who claimed to be a local homebum, however the can from which he was drinking was not entirely covered by the paper bag it was in, and so I noticed that it appeared to be an overpriced iced tea. He was also far more articulate than the bums to which I'm accustomed to speaking with. I'm speculating that he worked for the yard. If so, I may be in for some trouble should I decide to continue via train. The onramp where I was dropped off had no shoulder to speak of, and I've had little luck even when there has been a safe place for drivers to stop, so this will be a difficult decision. Most of my calories have been obtained through the gracious services of McDonald's, though today I picked up a bag of pork rinds. The otherwise slight five minute walk to the store was enough to make my skin feel as though it had been set ablaze. I wonder if the old adage "eat what ails you" applies here?
As I sit in my shady prison, unable to return to the world of the day-walkers, I find myself pondering great mysteries such as what my groundsquirrel neighbors might taste like and whether I might have found out, had I thought to bring my slingshot. I also believe the grass which grows everywhere here and has burrowed holes through every article of clothing I own should be edible, however I can't figure out an efficient enough way to husk them. Not that rice isn't cheap enough already, but it could have made for a fun side project, given how little else there is to do under this bridge.
Later on in the afternoon when I was able to take a closer look, I realised it wasn't a yard, or at least isn't a remotely busy one. The solitary southbound train I've witnessed in the ten hours that I've been here, was not leaving from the "yard", but rather just passing through it (at far too great of a speed to get hold of). It seems that I'm quite bad at this. I suppose hitchhiking is my only option.
My map evidently isn't current and led me through several homeless camps instead of to an onramp. I've basically gone in a giant circle and returned to the bridge that I'd been at all day, just slightly more sweaty, tired and sunburnt. I've officially concluded that it's impossible to leave California without a vehicle. I suppose it's time to learn Spanish.
I set out at dusk to return to the McDonald's where my day began, far more humble in my expectations of myself. I expect this to be only a short delay to make use of their WiFi to post. My intention now, it to travel largely at night not only to avoid the massive overburden of our life-giving star, but also to keep active during the surprisingly cold nights that have repeatedly woke me from an otherwise peaceful rest. Tomorrow will be a better day.
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