No waking up today, I just keep on going. It’s about 7am, and I’m trying to hitchhiking out of this tiny little town in what I think is the right direction. The people at that nice little diner told me about the usual train routes and times they go through here, so I figure if I can’t get a ride in a car there are always the trains.

A few hours pass and after seeing another train pull through I decide my ticket out is by train. I’ve done my research on train-hopping. I need to watch out for the railyard cop. Make sure the train is going slow enough or just stopped completely. Stay out of sight.

I climb into some brush, get my camo jacket out, and turn it inside out so it matches better with the beige thicket I’m in. Then, I wait. I lay there in the tall, dead grass and just wait. Think about whatever comes to mind. Watch the clouds go by. Spy on the railyard workers. Waiting for a train teaches you a whole new meaning of patience.

Off in the distance I hear a train whistle, and slowly it crawls into sight. It’s going pretty slow, it might just stop. That would be nice and easy. The adrenaline starts pumping through me and I feel that twinge of excitement and fear mixing up my insides. Grinning, I’m waiting for it to slow to a stop. A little longer… A little longer…

It must not be stopping. The train just keeps on rolling! So I grab my gear and with all the energy I can muster I start sprinting towards the train. My legs feel like lead weights, my lungs feel like they’re on fire, the backpack seems 200x heavier than usual. Lack of sleep really does a number on someone. I catch on within the last 10-15 cars. Its a coal train, so I grab the ladder and slowly position myself in the tiny area right above the wheels. I couldn’t make a mistake, because that meant my life. I eventually got cozy and watched the scenery. After the first middle-of-nowhere stop I relocated and got more comfy for the long haul.

Spending a lot of time by yourself with a rhymthetic pulse and not enough food and water to last you through the 10 hour trip is kind of a religious experience. There’s never really a time where you don’t have water available to you. Usually you always have some kind of food available. But when you’re stuck on a moving train, they don’t exactly stop at drive-thrus.

The humidity was also getting to me. I was sweating and didn’t understand why. More precious water leaving my body. After hours, the train started slowing down and I saw ahead of me a large trainyard and what looked like a city. I didn’t know where I was but I knew this was my stop. I had to get off, I was dehydrated and starving.

Jumping off on the fly is a scary experience every time, but especially your first. I didn’t know how to really do it, but I just did what made sense. Threw my stuff off, grabbed onto the ladder, lowered myself, ran along side the train to meet its speed, let go of the train, and slowed to a stop. The walk into town was exhausting. I was overdressed for this heat and humidity was still catching me off guard. Dehydration was starting to kick in. My mouth felt like a desert. I was pushing myself to a new limit and I was loving it.

I made it to a hotel and asked for water. They claimed not to have any. I went to another and again, no water. I saw a subway just down the road so I marched on towards it. The looks on their faces were priceless as I asked for water. They didn’t deny me. I couldn’t stop drinking for minutes. It was delicious, cold water that even gave me a little brain-freeze. That didn’t stop me though.

I went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. I was quite the sight. Most of my face was covered in black soot. I looked like some kind of crazy black metal enthusiast. My hair was practically greased sticking straight up. I was at least tan, if not burned, and blackened by soot on most of my exposed body.

I had saved some money prior to my trip, and I didn’t want to hop train anymore for now. Tonight I will live like a king. I ate at a nearby mom-and-pop stop, and got a little motel. The shower alone was worth every penny. I slept hard that night. Although I felt a little guilty, like I was cheating on a test.

I’m on a train. I did it. I’m in between these two large wheels on this little platform underneath a big coal bowl and I’m going to Kansas! Look at all the people stopped at the railroad crossing. They aren’t even looking at the train. Not a single soul. Not even that cop.

I got to the outside of Denver when the train just stopped. It was about 5pm. I was a wee bit worried they were gonna do some sort of inspection for train hoppers. Maybe I was seen? Why was it just sitting here? The more time it sat the more I grew concerned. The tiniest sound would cause me to go into a mini-panic. What happens if I get caught? Will they just kick me off? Will I get arrested? Should I run now?

A loud hiss. A double whistle off in the distance. The sound of the train cars colliding and starting to move. Relief rushed through me. The adrenaline was flowing again and I remembered the fact that I’M ON A TRAIN.

Hours passed by. I sat silently watching the beautiful scenery. It was a very unique experience. The clickety clack of the old tracks and the rhythmic pulse of the train car sends you into this meditative state. Trance-like, almost. You can think more clearly. You become relaxed as the natural high takes its course.

No worries.

No problems.

No drama.

Just the train, a beautiful sunset, and I. I don’t know where I’m going or when I’ll get there, and I like it that way. The true sense of freedom hits home.

I nod off for a couple hours and wake up shivering and shaking from the cold wind. By sitting on the windward side I avoided being baked by the sun. Now there was no sun, and the freezing cold humid wind was shooting right through my clothes. I was still scared of being caught, so I didn’t want to turn on any lights. This made finding my jacket especially fun.

I got the jacket, so my torso was nice and toasty. My legs, however, were another story. The cold wind shooting straight through the holes in my jeans, chilling them to the bone. It wasn’t the most cozy situation. I sat there, cuddled up, begging for the slight chance that the train might stop soon for what ever reason and let me do something about this freezing problem.

Somehow, I got my wish. The train came to a stop. In a frenzy I shot over to the other side of the train so the wind would blow past, and I pulled out an emergency blanket. Wrapped up in the crinkling tin-foil I finally felt a little more secure. I was gonna be okay.

The train moved again, and went for another couple hours. The scenery at this time of night was amazing. The stars, without any light pollution, painted the skies with its natural beauty. The light fog over the wheat fields gave a spooky vibe to the whole scene. Like the grand canyon, words nor pictures could give something like this justice.

The train slows down and pulls through a small town and into a train yard. Stopping short of main part of the yard, I jump out and walk out towards town, feeling exhausted and dehydrated. It’s about 2-3am at this point. I walked blindly towards what I think was a road way out from the yard. I reached a small fence, and in attempt to climb over gave myself a shock. Never hit electric fence before. That wasn’t too bad.

Adventuring through the cow pasture I considered just going to sleep behind some bushes until the sun came up and figuring things out from there. Something else kept pushing me to keep on trucking, so I did. Eventually I found the road, and only after a couple more shocking climbs and staring contests with cows I reached it.

I made a buddy on that road. A cow managed to follow me across the fence and was walking behind me. I’d turn around and he’d stop. I’d keep walking and he kept coming. We went our separate ways after a short distance which I was thankful for. He was freaking me out a little.

Miraculously at the end of this road, which turned out to be a major highway, was a tiny town. And somehow this tiny town had a 24-hour cafe. There had to be some catch here, right? Nope, the people were super friendly. I was able to sit in there for about an hour drinking coffee and water and eating a little cheap omelet that tasted like heaven.

The cook even took an interest in me and let me use his shower and showed me the laundromat. I washed my clothes and watched the sun rise. It was the perfect end to an amazing day.

Waking up in a tiny town east of Denver, I’m feeling the after-effects of some potent whiskey. This is okay, though. The other traveler wakes up shortly after me and we head off towards the McDonalds for some coffee and bullshitting. After a few hours of talking about this and that, politics, space, girls, and travel routes, I hit the road with a sign.

One side said “KANSAS”

When I caught someone’s eye I would flip it to “PLEASE”

It got some laughs and I was having a good time, but a ride would’ve been nice. After an hour or two I noticed some storm clouds heading my way. Well this should be an interesting day to say the least. Maybe this will help with a ride! Or maybe just get me wet! Either way it should be interesting.

I was shocked when a fella came seemingly out of nowhere, hand forward, saying “Hey there my name’s Adam! I could use a hand with some work out at this old farm equipment junkyard, care to help me out?”

I didn’t even hesitate. A buddy of his pulled up and I got in their car. 

It was a pretty strange ride, though. There was religious, opera-like music playing very lightly. Crosses and religious symbols littering the entire vehicle. A purse laying on the backseat floorboard, and a sleeping bag covering some O’Douls bottles. It was a pretty strange circumstance.

Adam introduced me to his friend, Adam. There was good vibes all inside the car, much laughing and jokes abound. Adam 1 was apparently a traveler type, too. While Adam 2 was working to get ordained in his church to be a pastor or father or some figurehead. As we headed further and further out into the middle of nowhere I grew more concerned. 

“You guys aren’t planning on killing me out here are ya?”

“Damn, he’s onto us.”

I jumped out of the car and rolled into a ditch.

Just kidding, we had a good laugh and I figured a religious man and a traveler wouldn’t be no harm.  We got to the junkyard and its exactly what they said it would be. A giant hole in the ground filled with all sorts of dead farm equipment and scrap metal. So we load it up on a trailer. 

The fun part begins when some mexicans come by and we help them load their trailer. For some god aweful reason they want to get the rolled up barb wire. So we lift these hundreds of pounds of rolled barb wire for about an hour onto this truck until we have a couple ton and the pile is well over our heads. I don’t really notice the battlewounds until after the Great Barbwire Conflict of 2012. A good amount of scratches and punctures all up and down my arms, hands, parts of my torso, and somehow my legs. 

Adam 1: You ever have a tetanus shot?

Me: I think a few years back. One of the school required shots.

Adam 2: Doesn’t matter, I learned the other day it only costs about 20 bucks for one down at the clinic.

Well alrighty then.

The great thing about working on a junkyard is the pace. You work as fast as you want. Get bored of what you’re doing? That’s fine, there’s about 4 other projects that could use your attention. Tired? Take a break. Take a nap. Take the day off. No big deal.

We lived by space and space alone. Time was not something considered. The sun would rise and we would work. The sun would beat the hell out of us and we would rest. Night would fall and we would have a fire. We lived in this little lean to made of half a tent and a wooden platform. Adam 2 had a home nearby that he went to and left us on our own.

After a few days Adam 1 decided it was time to get some lovin’. He had a lady friend a couple towns down he wanted to go and see. Welfare mamma he said, she got 5 kids. Well thats all fine and dandy to me. Off we go. Walking. For miles. That is until a fella gave us a ride to the nearby town and we met up with the mexicans. They wanted to do a load first, though! Aaagghhh I hate barb wire.

Well lucky for us the tire on their truck got somethin’ in it and was releasing air pretty fast. We didn’t have to load up and we still got a ride to ladypant’s house! She was a pretty 30-something year old lady with a clan of kids. They were surprisingly well behaved, too. Sometimes a little crazy but usually listen and play together well. I had to give it to her, she was a good mamma. Teressa was her name. Tur-Ess-Ah. Not Ter-ee-sah. I thought it was strange but I liked the uniqueness.

Somehow she had gotten a hold of a full park set. The big jungle system ones complete with bridge, monkey bars, and climbing chains. I don’t know how she got it but it was sure fun to set up. We did a bunch more work around the house, and Adam adopted one of the many dogs that ran the house. 

Adam was convinced he had this girl’s heart. He was wrong, and it was fun to watch him attempt to woo her. She tried and tried again to make it clear but he kept pushing. I’m sure he could’ve had his way had she not had her heart set on a fella from her past getting out of jail soon. 

Teressa told me an interesting little fact though that turned my world upside down. We were on the topic of hitchhiking and she drops a tiny little atom bomb detailing how druggies, hookers, and hitchhikers have been found on the side of the road missing their heads. For the past 10 years. No news coverage. No police leads. Just bodies. 

Well there’s my problem. And I sure as hell didn’t feel up to hitchhiking around this neighborhood anymore. I need to find an out. And as I’m sitting there thinking about alternative routes, I hear my answer just a short distance away.

A freight train passes. Whistle blows. Coal car after coal car pass me by. This is my ride. Obviously not this particular one, its going way too fast. I need to go to Denver. Find the train station. Get on an eastbound train. And figure it out from there.

Well that’s exactly what I do. I get back to Denver. I walk hours but finally find the train station. I walk down some tracks heading east and I hear behind me a train blowing its whistle. I sneak off, wait for the engineer locomotive to pass, and stand staring at these gigantic 200-ton steel moving bowls of coal. I gather up all the courage I could muster, run along side and jump and…

Fall off.

I Didn’t quite run fast enough. So I try again, jump, ladder-grab, foot position, pull up, crawl in. Simple as that. I did it. I’m on a freight train. I’m tucked away on this little metal platform right between the wheels. It’s pretty loud and very dirty. Off we go…

So I’m leaving Denver! Time to get to this guy’s house in Wichita(who is starting to get a little frustrated with my tardiness). I start hitchhiking off onramps towards the main highway. I get a ride pretty fast, but it gets no easier. Ride opportunities come and go, nobody heading the way I am. Finally someone’s going towards out of town so I get a short little ride. I can’t speak spanish, he can’t speak english. We just kinda sit there. Finally I use hand movements to an exit I figure would work according to my little map. Seems high traffic, near the outside of Denver. I’ll get a ride real quick.

Man how wrong I was. It took me about 4 hours to get a ride out of there, and it wasn’t even really by hitchhiking. They just pulled over because of car troubles. This guy was neat though. Not much of a talker. I got a little info out of him and by the sounds of it he had plenty of money. Worked 2 jobs, plus some other side things. Had a big house, 3 cars, but wasn’t happy.

He had all sorts of fancy shit and wasn’t happy. I could understand that. He talked about traveling for a while, and I reinforced that idea. Hopefully he changes his life a bit and becomes happier, because the guy was a good guy.

Anyways, he dropped me off at a Wal-Mart by the main highway I needed to hitchhike on. Convenient! I walk a bit, but my backpack is waaaay too small for me. Its like a child’s backpack. So its been causing me a lot of back pain. Finally I get to the on-ramp and I sit there, smile on my face and sign in my hand.

Nothing. Nothing. More nothing. For about 4 hours. Not one damn car. I was actually getting mad, which never happens! I’m just not the type to get mad. But these people wouldn’t even look at me. Not even a chance. Fuck big cities, I decided. The mentality that grows here is cold and uncaring. It wasn’t that they were passing me up, that I was okay with. Its that they wouldn’t even look at me. No eye contact. No recognition. No “Sorry buddy!”. None of the little things that signify I’m in an area that has caring human beings.

Sometimes I’d get lucky and get a nod, or a shrug, or someone almost pull over but change their mind. It gave me hope. Finally someone picked me up. After hours and hours of waiting, someone took me about 20 miles to a small town. Finally. I was so grateful. He dropped me off and I got some water at a local diner. It was getting late. I spent all day just getting out of Denver. But now it should be easier, right? Uphill from here! I’m out of the city and in small-town land! From here the rides come free and they come easy.

Well I walk my happy high-morale ass over to the road and I fly a sign. After about an hour of frustration a truck picks me up and has me sit in the bed, says shes going about 12 miles. Alright lady, whatever gets me farther from Denver.

I get to the small town, but I couldn’t really call it a town. It was more a road, with maybe a house. It just happened to attach to the highway. Whatever, I’ll push my luck. Sit at the onramp another hour or so, not making much progress, when a lovely couple pull over. They don’t give me a ride, though. They give me something better: Information.

Turn around, go to the truck stop back there! I’m sure you can get a ride there! Going to Wichita? Well good luck!

Thanks. Alright, time to go back! It doesn’t take me too long (thankfully!) to get a ride, but I was getting frustrated at the ignore rate of these people. This fella was super nice, digging the way I was traveling and wanted to help a stranger out. Now thats what I love to meet! He got me to the truckstop, gave me his number, and said if I can’t get a ride give him a call and we’ll see about shelter. Said he had a friend heading over into Kansas and maybe I could ride with them. Sweet!

Well I talked to a couple truckers, but I wasn’t really sure what to say. I sat down in frustration, thinking of a strategy when an older looking truck driver comes up to me and starts talking. We make the usual howdy-doo’s and he offers me a shower. Uhh.. Sure? I guess I could use one. Bells in the back of my head were ringing though, so I was gonna play this one extra safe. He sets it up with the guy who works there and they get me this little bathroom with a shower, toiletries, and plenty of towels. That was all fine and dandy, but the truck driver was being creepily overbearing, making sure I had plenty of soap and making weird remarks. I lock the door and shower in alert mode, knife readily at hand. I had my own soap, but I figured I’d check out what the soap here smelled like.

It was like roses and mangoes with the aroma of a girl’s perfume. Well damnit, I bet he thought I was some sort of lot lizard. After I complete the hygienics I sneak off and hide in a McDonalds, stealing wifi and avoiding prowling truckers.  Another fella walked in, holding nothing but a sleeping bag and a guitar.

Well I bet that’s my type of crowd.

I talk to him, he happens to be a traveler like myself. Except he packs much lighter and is about 20 years older. Been on the road for 3 years he says. We get some whiskey, go to his camp, and hang out for the night. Swapping stories and ideas and jokes and eventually passing out. A nice end to a rough day.

Alright, so back on the road leaving Durango. Thumb out, smile on face, song playing in my head, the usual. I get a ride from this hispanic fella going just up the road a little ways. Apparently its a pretty sweet spot, and I’m sick of where I am.

It was a normal ride. Normal conversation. Short distance. He drops me off and I’m on this beautiful scenic roadside just as happy as could be.

Well what do you know its my lucky day! My excitement reaches max when an older model Porsche pulls over. I shove my stuff in and we make introductions. He’s going all the way to Silverton, and I couldn’t imagine a sweeter ride. Bonus points: he like to drive fast.

The guy’s name was Kacy. I remember because he said it in such a weird fashion. “Kaaaaayyyyyyccceeeeeee”. If everyone had some weird way to say their name I’d remember a helluva lot more names. He was a quirky fella. Fun to just listen to and very intelligent. He was very soft spoken, and we talked about all sorts of hippy-style things. Big on karma, people helping eachother out, and making stuff with your hands. He reminded me of Bob Ross, the painter with that TV show.

He dropped me off in Silverton, and I waited about 15 minutes for another ride. Luckily the guy pulled over was going all the way Montrose! No getting stuck in the middle of nowhere! Woo! He was pretty interesting. A real talker. Talked forreeevvveeerrrr about every tiny detail about everything we passed. He was kind of like a tour guide, since he lived in the area for all of his 60 years. He knew everything about it. Worked with the road. His name was Dee.

So he did pretty much all the talking there. Was in the Freemason’s. I know a lot about the history of that area and the surrounding mountains, now. He even stopped at this little bridge where we saw a really great waterfall. He dropped me off in Montrose and I hitchhiked right on through.

I started hitching right away and bam! Hook, line, and sinker. He was going to one of the small towns right along the way, so I went with along with him. We had some neat conversation, saw a flipped cattle-truck along side the road with tons of cattle just grazing the nearby area. Finally, he dropped me off in Gunnison. I got a ride to the edge of town and sat for a minute, waiting for the next bit of adventure.

A guy who’s name I can’t quite remember picked me up. He had a super positive attitude, and picked me up even though he’s never picked anyone up before! We talked and agreed on all sorts of stuff. Videogames, movies, music, we made tons of jokes, he even pulled over so I could fill my water bottle up in fresh snowmelt river water.  He worked as a news broadcaster for one of Montrose’s radio stations.

Well going along the road the sky gets a little dark. Then, out of just about nowhere, fog. I don’t mean a little visibility problem, I mean can’t see a damn foot out from us fog. Shortly after, snow. I didn’t really want to get out of the nice warm toasty car with the cool guy and cozy seats into the cold snow trying to hitchhike what I thought was the “right” direction. The guy was going to Denver. Well I have a friend in Denver. Guess things work out in weird ways. I just go along for the ride.

Beautiful ride, crazy snow storm, fun conversation, fresh snowmelt spring water, and little marijuana. It was one of my favorite rides.

And dude, if you see this, please message me or get ahold of me somehow! I think I left my camera in your car! Even if it isn’t there, I’d still like to keep in touch!

So he drops me off in Thornton, Colorado, which is this north suburb of Denver. Ben’s dad picks me up cause I couldn’t find the place. I get to the house, we make some conversation; Yaknow, the basic stuff. Ben’s dad is this laid back older fella with the voice of Jeff Bridges and a positive attitude. Told me quite a few stories that I could hardly believe, but I believe them anyways because that’s a lot more fun. The other guy is this funny older gentleman who has had quite the run of bad luck. Car broken down, stuck in the rain, hours from home. Your classic shitty day.

Ben all this time is at school learning how to do heating and air conditioning. He doesn’t get home until around 8pm. As I’m sitting on the couch I see the door open and we make eye contact.

Me: “Sup dude.”

Ben: “What? WHAT THE FUCK? HOW DID YOU… WHAT? WHEN DID.. HOW DID… I THOUGHT… WHAT THE FUCK?? SHIT DUDE GET THE FUCK OVER HERE”

We bro hug and catch up a while. Apparently his schooling has been working out pretty damn well. Straight A’s. Hard-Ass teacher gives him compliments. He’s wearing glasses now which gives him the appearance of this scientist-type. I’m proud of my nigga.

I stay there for a couple days, and we have ourselves a grand time. We played videogames. Watched movies. Made jokes. Wandered around in the hours of the night trying to get beer. After getting said beer find out that its only 3.6% content! We didn’t even catch a buzz! We did have a good laugh over the whole experience though, because otherwise it would’ve been depressing. The entire time was freakin’ awesome.

I got this fella on couchsurfing though I was supposed to meet in Wichita. THIS IS NOT THE RIGHT WAY TO WICHITA. All well, figure I might get into Kansas and then try to get there. I’m already a day late, I’ll just let this guy know whats up. A day passes. Another day passes. And then a third day passes. Mr. Whichita understands, though.

Finally I get the urge to leave. Its about that time, so thats what I do.

PS: Sorry its taken me so long to write this! I’ve been in Missouri for about 2 weeks and every library I went to had a block on tumblr! I got some major catching up to do!

So leaving Durango was a dandy time. I met a fella on Couchsurfing.org I was supposed to meet in a couple days, and I had it all road-mapped out on how I was gonna get there. I left Durango and got a ride with a party hardy girl a little older than me. She wanted to drink beer and go fishing, and that sounded like a splendid time to me.

We go fishing, drink, listen to music, shoot the breeze. I tell her all about my adventures and she tells me how shitty her life is. I suggest she come with me, get some road legs and see some of the country. It’s a double-whammy for me, since girls make everything easier. Need to panhandle? She’ll bring in twice the dough. Need a ride? Girls get picked up quick. Plus, some company is nice.

Well we get back to her place, make some dindins, and she starts texting her ex-boyfriend. Before I know it I’m getting pushed out the door right before sunset and she’s running off on some mission from god. I shrug, find a place to camp next to some train tracks, make a little fire, and keep on going.

Apparently trains have these drainage tunnels sometimes. I happened to make my fire right next to it.

Apparently whatever they’re made out of is flammable as fuck. My fire got a little out of control, but I managed to keep it down for the most part. I passed out for a couple hours and woke up a bit after dark set in. All I see is some firelight across the tracks. Fuuuuck. I run over and put some bushes by stomping on them, then play Sherlock Holmes and figure out whats going on!

The fire traveled through the tunnel and to the other side and started smoking more than a chain-smoker on a bad day. I manage to get it a bit under control, throw some rocks in front of the tunnel in attempt to suffocate it, but the smoke is still a problem. It attracts attention, police, and fire department. I don’t even try to run, I call them over and tell them what happened. I figured I was in some sort of trouble, but I’m the kind of guy that would rather pay for his mistakes than run from them.

Luckily, there was no real structural damage. They bitched me out about how dry the area is, took me into town, and dropped me off at a really cheap motel. I took a nice bath and got all the soot off me and started the next day off anew.

A bit behind schedule, but I’m sure it’ll be okay!

How wrong I am.

Alright, its been a while. Bear with me.

So we left off staying at the family in the Grand Canyon. Next morning was good, some nice breakfast, some laugh, and a ride to the right road. Saying our goodbyes and lucks be a wished, we went our seperate ways.

So I’m sitting on a highway watching all sorts of people pass on by. As always, I have a smile on my face and my thumb in the air. It didn’t take too long for a fella to pick me up. He was a nature-specialist and did the whole tours thing for national parks all over the west. Fell into that kind of work by simply volunteering and fell in love with nature. Dropped me off riiiight outside the gates of the Canyon, and there things got really interesting.

It seemed to take forever to get a ride. I was sitting there for a while, and the gate-guards were eyeing me. Fella passed me, stopped in the highway, reversed, and bam! Caught me a ride! Really cool fella, I feel super bad I can’t remember his name, haha. We got along right away, he hiked through most of the canyon and was a super outdoorsy type. Told him I was heading up to Mesa, Utah. At the same time I saw some rain clouds over that way. He was talking about Durango, Colorado an aweful lot and it didn’t take a lot of convincing to ride with him the hundred or so miles to get there.

We spent a lot of time just making jokes, swapping cool stories about outdoors stuff, talking about music, all sorts of junk. He was about 40 years old, looked about 26, and partied like he was 18. Went to raves still and loved the electronica sorts of music. He was an architect getting ready to move to California. The business was booming again, and he had a pretty sweet gig set up for him. 

Got to Durago and decided we were both pretty beat, and we’d go splitsies on a campsite and have a cool little night. Got some brew, ate some food, had a fire, did some silly dancing, and passed out. Twuz lots of fun. A really good experience, and lead to even more great times.

Woke up and took off. He had to get up to Denver and get ready to do some moving, and reccomended I stay in Durango a couple days, see the sites, get some work, etc. I figure “why not?” and walk around for a while. I find a library to get some info, and out of the blue- “BBBRRRRUUUUOOOOHHHH” Thunder rolls in. Thunderstorm. Fun. Guess I’m staying here whether I like it or not.

Durango is a really neat place. I loved every fuckin’ minute of being there. Everyone is active: You see everyone going biking, jogging, kayaking, and everything in between. Also, everyone is high. High on something, and its usually not too bad. Whether its adrenaline from their activities or from the relaxed marijuana laws, everyone was super chill.

I hide my backpack in a church, because nobody steals from a church. Wander around, talk to strangers, shake hands, kiss babies, and ask around for information. Appearently there’s a pretty nice homeless shelter around here, but I figure I’d see about couchsurfing. It starts getting a little late so I go to get my stuff. There’s a fella going through it, and he wants to do nothing but help. Again, reffered to the shelter. Welp, guess I’m going to the shelter.

I show up there and feel like a fish out of water. Had to do some pretty basic paperwork and talked to the guy in charge at the moment. He was a pretty cool guy. I’m pretty sure he was gay because of certain little personality tweeks, but he had this big rough rugged look. Makes me laugh thinkin’ about it.

Got a tour, introduced, and a bed. Talked to some of the other people there, and it seemed pretty nice. Everyone had a relatively peaceful and positive attitude. I fit right in. Some of the people are difficult to have a real conversation with, but there was one fella I really hit it off with.

Todd was at least 40 years old. He was also very intelligent and fun to talk to. He had this whole plan going on with this software he was working on that would understand human language and run simulations. Seemed like it would eventually have a huge positive effect for humanity.

We would talk for a long time about all sorts of different things ranging from politics to mathematics, science, and humanity. Sometimes we’d get an audience that would just sit and listen. We had pretty similar ideals, and I think we both learned a lot from eachother. Especially when he sat me down and taught me Einstein’s Theory of Relativity and time dilation. Opened my mind to a whole different world of physics and made me more confident that I could understand it without knowing and understanding the mathematics behind it.

I would walk around town during the day, ask around for any odd jobs and just talk to people in general. That was fun. It was a beautiful town. Eventually I got bored, though. Antsy to get on the road. So one day I packed my stuff and left.

PS: I’m way behind, sorry guys. So much has happened and I’ve had little time to update. I’ll try to write some more up later.

Leaving Las Vegas in the middle of the afternoon probably wasn’t the best idea, but I got a ride all the way to the outskirts of town so I figured it would work. Took me a good hour and a half for a lady to stop. I got in, but she gave me a kind of neutral-bad vibe. Not like she was gonna do anything, but just the entire ride and experience was super “meh”. It can’t all be amazing, though.

She dropped me off in Boulder, warned me about the asshat cops, and drove away. Heading towards the grand canyon, I positioned myself juuuust right and played the waiting game. It didn’t take long at all for a nice looking guy in a nice looking car to pick me up. We hit it off right away, swapping stories, laughs, tall tales, and fun facts. He was easily one of my favorite rides. Gary was his name. Did the whole “mountaineering guide” gig, traveling from different major mountains in midwest giving tours. The entire ride just blew by. I bought him a coffee as a going away present and we went our seperate ways.

So now I’m stuck in this tiny town right before the main highway that leads to the grand canyon dubbed Williams. It was honestly a super neat town, but also a super tourist trap. There was a car show or something in one of the cities beyond it, because every other car was a super sexy classic.

I walk around a little while, figuring that I’m not gonna make it much farther. I stopped in a Circle K, and a lady gave me some information and a map. Told me the best, free place to camp was out in the woods. We talked for a minute, then I left to find some grub.

Like I said though, tourist trap. None of the food joints (and there was a ton) was really the mom&pop hole in the wall type situations that would drive me to spend 10 bucks on a burger and fries. All seemed mediocre and over priced. Starving, I returned to the Circle K, asking where there might be a hidden little restaurant around here.

“Nothing. Aint nothin that wont rip you off. This’s the cheapest spot you’ll find. Here get yourself a hotdog or somethin, on the house. You gotsta save your money, hon.”

I was flabbergasted. I didn’t know what to say. She got me a free soda (which I just put water in), free hotdog with the fixins, and a bag of sun chips. For practically nothing! I thanked her profusely, feeling bad that I couldn’t reciprocate. So I left, enjoyed my food, and set off to find a place to camp.

Walking down the road a ways I was just out of sight of the town. So I head straight into the woods. Something inside me kept telling me “keep looking, you’ll find a better place.” So I kept looking. For about 30 minutes I kept looking. Then something caught my eye, some kind of strange rusted lean-to it looked like. As I got closer I realized twuz no lean-to! It was a flipped over rusted out old Volkswagen Beetle! I walked around to take a better look and found my home for the night.

There was another road I hit, that ended in a Cul-De-Sac that had no houses. Just a large pile of dirt. Behind this pile of dirt was a little cave-situation. Obviously hand-made. I had to do some cleaning house, though. And just as I was getting concerned about it, a shovel caught my eye. Well how freakin’ convenient can you get!?

So I made a little fire-rock circle thing, tried to hang up a tarp but decided instead to sleep under the stars. Someone’s dog gave me a good scare, but I just kept a friendly posture, it wagged its tale and ran off.

Now you see those old geezer type hitchhikers around from time to time? I felt like I was one of them 40 years ago. Dumb, naive, and not really sure what the hell I was doing. So I gathered some wood and started a fire. But about an hour later I realized I didn’t gather enough wood, so I got a lot more. Another hour passes, and I still didn’t gather enough. Jesus fire eats up wood quick. It was past dark and I was stumbling around in the woods breaking dead wood with a headlamp and a rock. I stayed up later than I ever have while camping on the road. I just couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking, staring at the stars, playing with the fire, looking over my stuff, getting more wood, you name it.

Finally around 11pm, I drift off into sleep…

PS: Pics are gonna be added after I get to a computer that takes SD cards!

So after a very sad goodbye I was left stranded on the side of the road with nothing but what was in my backpack. I wasn’t really scared at this point. The fear was just about the entire trip itself. Now that I’ve started, I don’t feel a single twinge of fear, and the experiences I’ve had in just the last 24 hours are worth every risk.

My original plan was to go through Yosemite Nation Park. The 204 shoots straaaight through it. Convenient, if it wasn’t closed. So I had to think on my feet and start in San Andreas. I don’t regret a thing. Picked up by a fella named Fernando. Works the glass delivery type shindig, delivering all sorts of glass and glass accessories to people who require said glass and glass accessories. Neat fella. Funny, though. He never actually planned on picking me up. He stopped right by me in order to take a whizz, and I was just standing there watching. So he went ahead and invited me. He never even picked up a hitchhiker before, so that was neat. His first hitchhiker, my first hitchikee on my adventure.

Altogether he was a pretty neat guy. Didn’t talk about himself too much, though. So I did most of the talking. He dropped me off right on the 88, and we said our farewells and thank yous and welcomes and whatever else.

Sitting there in Jackson on the 88, it was a real nice little place to stop. Right at an intersection so I had a good chance. Everyone was going nice and slow so they could check me out, decide if they like the shape and form of my butt, and pick me up. Someone did, and his namy was Andy.

Andy was at first a little scary. Being my second ride, I was still a little on edge and he wanted me to put my stuff in the trunk. I wasn’t too sure, but I got an alright vibe so I went along with it. And boy am I glad I did. He was older, coming back from a doctors appointment for carpal tunnel. Very bald, and a bit witty, we talked about all sorts of things. Nothing real interesting in general, but it was nice to have a conversation that wasn’t the least bit strained. He dropped me off in a little shanty town that probably had a population of about 8.

In good spirits, I stopped inside of a Burger Joint. The kind that you’d look at and be like “It’s either gonna be absolutely delicious or have roaches infesting everything.” I was very surprised. The place was called Lil’ Beefy’s. It was named after the owner’s son. Now at first it was basic conversation with a couple of the people working there. Telling them where I was going, what I was doing. They seemed very interested. Then out comes the food. It wasn’t just some regular ol’ burgers and some reheated fries. We had a goddamn mountain of home-made fries sided with a burger the size of my head and dripping with every last flavour I could imagine. I actually slowed down to eat and enjoy every last bite, and saved the fries for later. I got a picture, but I can’t post it right now. Soon, though.

The owner then sat in a seat next to me and we began to talk. He was pretty interesting, having lived quite a colorful life. Had 3 previous burger joints, all that were screwed out of him by banks. We got to talking about how the credit system in America is practically a scam. How nobody is really taught how it works and is easily taken advantage of by those who control it. Real intellectual-type stuff. He then got up and handed me a 20 dollar bill. Told me to keep it in case of emergencies. People sure are helpful.

My next ride came about an hour later, a fella by the name of scott. I have a feeling there was a lot to this guy, but he wasn’t much of a talker. Took me up about 10-15 miles. Had about 10 tires in the back of his truck and invited me to stay the night at his place if I couldn’t find a ride. He also gave me 2 frozen burritos. Man, people are really helpful.

So after about another 2 hours, I’m sitting waiting for a ride and it isn’t looking good. I”m thinking about going down to the Scott’s house when bam! A wild ride appears!

Real nice, older looking lady who said I had a nice face and that God told her to pick me up. Alright, I think, I owe you one God. She happened to be going all the way to Nevada, and we chatted the whole way. She was even nice enough to stop at a couple of the scenic views and let me get pictures. She had 5 kids and 3 Grandkids. Amazing lady, seen and been through it all. Her name was Debbie.

So she takes me all the way to Grovesburg, which is conveniently closer to my goal than my original target. She dropped me off at a little intersection right on Hwy 395, we say our goodbyes, I give her a big hug, and I go on my way.

I stop at a little house with an older lady and her daughter moving some stuff and ask if she could refill my canteen. I talk to the lady for a little while, and she gives me a fiver and tells me good luck. Hot damn, I have more money now than when I started off with. People are super helpful. It was amazing.

I start hitchhiking again and get picked up real quick. An older fella by the name of Dave. Dave was going all the way to Mammoth, and he took me with him. Now Dave was no doubt unique. His taste in music, his hobbies, the way he composed himself, it was all inexplicable. He also enjoyed driving very fast. We averaged about 80, passing almost everyone along the road. That is, until we did about 85 around a corner and saw a cop coming the other way. We were screwed. The cop pulled up behind us pretty quick, flashed his lights, and Dave got a speeding ticket. My goofy sense of humor wasn’t helping a lot, but I did get a chuckle out of him. We shared a couple hours, then split up outside of mammoth.

It was getting dark, windy, and cold. And I was looking around for a place to camp. Luckily, a nice lady by the name of Elizabeth picked me up and took me about halfway to Bishop. Dropped me off at the Crowley Lake Resort where I camped for the night. First thing I did was cook those burritos, and they were beyond delicious. <Picture coming soon>

Sleep did not come easy. The first half of the night was tough because of a heavy cough and a series of nightmares. I wasn’t sure if I was awake or asleep when this happened, but I heard footsteps coming up to my campsite, and an elderly voice saying “Won’t you come home now?” Scared the shit out of me. I took some medicine, and the next 6 hours were decent dreams and light coughing. So I woke up feeling somewhat refreshed. Stopped at the resort, got some Biscuits and Gravy and Coffee, and so starts Day 2.

The first step has been taken. On the 12th of April I will be starting. I’m pretty  unprepared, my pack is overweight, and I’m pretty scared. So this should be pretty intense on the “Leaving comfort zone” scale. I don’t want to be unprepared! At the same time I don’t want to be lugging around 50 pounds of unneeded crap.

Guess I’ll learn on the road. I’ll figure out what I need and don’t need. Right about now I’m wishing I was a boy scout at some point. I feel mentally unprepared. But I got safety measures. Some camping supplies. Some clothes. A few comforts. Worst case, I toss some things and pick up whatever I may need on the road!

Anyways, yep. Homelessness. Its pretty manageable when you’ve got plenty of friends to help you out. I just couchsurf from place to place. Seeing everyone before I go off on an amazing life changing adventure. Its freeing, too. I’m no longer working, allowing more time spent with my friends. I have money saved, and I’m not living the same grindy ‘go to work-come home-play on computer-see friends sometimes’ situation that was starting to really bring me down!

“How long will you be gone?”

“When will you be back?”

“Where are you going?”

“Don’t get raped!”

Lets clear the air here for all my loved ones reading this:

I don’t want to put a timeline on this. This can’t be rushed. If I find some remote town where I work at an amazing little place for a month or two, cool! Who knows what’ll happen! Gotsta gotsta gotsta keep an open mind.

I’ll be back later. Or, in internet terms: bbl.

I’m going anywhere and everywhere that might interest me. The Grand Canyon. Carlsbad Caverns. Hopping trains from east to west. The Smithsonian. Wherever I goddamn please. I am free to do what I please!

“What if you die!”

Its not a matter of what if. I know I’m going to die. One day. I figure its more of a “How will I die?” I’d much prefer dying trying to do something amazing than living a hollow life and taking no risks until one day it sneaks up on me.

So, there we have it. I love you all. Hope I can see you before I depart.