Finally the Finale!

On October 10th, 2010 I was standing outside the bus station waiting for any sign of Ralph for what seemed like forever. I think it was less than 15 minutes in reality, but not knowing if he had made it or was at the right bus station was getting the better of me. You'd think by this point in the Journey that the “unknown” was a familiar friend and maybe it was, but still one that is hard to trust.

I saw a gray, mid-2000's Subaru Impreza drive into the parking lot and park out of view, but I hoped and almost knew that would be Ralph. It took us a few minutes to fine each other, but sure enough, that was his car. I had never met this man before, but considering that he just drove about an hour to come pick up some weary traveler he'd never met before, I guessed that he was a pretty rad dude. The next couple days would prove my presupposition.

He wore a very respectable mustache and didn't waste a second in asking questions. I was more than happy to talk about what I was doing and why. Talking about with people always reminded me of why I was doing what I was doing, I gained inspiration from talking with people. Especially Ralph because he was very enthused; very interested, but almost unimpressed; I liked that.

He worked in Albany so he knew the area and wanted to take me to this huge waterfall. I was all about it. I finally felt secure and willing to do a little sight seeing. If I remember correctly, the waterfall was part of the Hudson river and was second in volume only to Niagara. It was huge. We were able to spend about 15 minutes there and it was so refreshing for me. I felt safe, which hadn't been a feeling I'd had since I left the vanWingerden's a week ago.

After our mini excursion we began the hour drive back to his house. There was much time to get to know each other. He tried to talk politics with me, but I mostly just listened because always feeling under-educated about politics to say much anyway. When the topis turned to end-times I was ready to talk. Ralph brought up some good points about the current wars going on and what he predicted. From what I gathered he sides with more of a premillennial view where as I tend to assign myself with a more amillennial point of view. End-times can be a touchy subject much like politics, but at least I had the language to talk about it.

He told me about the house he lives in and how it is literally a log cabin. When we finally arrived at his home I was so impressed. It was bigger than I had envisioned, but just as loggy. We walked in and Kate was in the kitchen working up a meal for us. She was all smiles. She shown with hospitality and was, thankfully, so excited I had made it.

Not 10 minutes after walking in to their humble abode I was served about eight pancakes, four eggs over medium and an unlimited amount of bacon. I was in the country and loved it! I ate my fill, well, more than my fill and then Ralph and I took a wee drive down to the lake they live near. They live on a peninsula on this lake that is mostly a place for city people to come in the summer, but seeing how fall was falling, only the local were left. He took me to their little beach. It was really beautiful. The trees were turning and there were two old fishing buddies floating out in a boat with their lines in the water.

I knew that the plan was to eventually drive to Vermont that day, but the slow pace of life around here made it seem like it didn't really matter if we got on the road or not. Kate had gone to pick up their daughter from a friends and by the time Ralph and I had returned to the cabin, so had Kate and their daughter, Misty.

It wasn't long before we were on the road again with Rochester, Vermont as our destination. Kate and Ralph live on the very eastern edge of New York so getting to the heart of Vermont only took us an hour and a half. Well, it would have if we hadn't missed a turn. Even between the four of us, a map AND a GPS we still went the long way around. It was A-okay with me; I got to see even more of the countryside. Although, I would have loved to stay at their cabin for at least one night, but that's the way it goes. I was stoked to have a ride into Vermont, how I would proceed from there was yet to be determined...

The drive was gorgeous. The hillsides were on fire with the colors of fall and I felt so blessed to witness this without much planning at all. People talk about the changing of leaves in the east as something magical and I never really paid much credit to them, but now that I was seeing it with my own eyes, I couldn't agree with them more.

Ralph and the family were heading out to Rochester to see their son (Josh) and daughter-in-law (Perry) who had just moved into the area from North Carolina. Josh had landed a job as a chef in town and they were still settling in. Their place was understandably small with only one bedroom and one bathroom and just enough space in the front room for the four of us visitors to find some rest. But there were things to do and see before night fall!

We took a walk down to the river behind their house and their hyperactive, 130 pound chocolate lab did not hesitate one second to catapult himself into the crystal clear flow. We spent about 30 minuets down by the river, skipping rocks and throwing sticks for their dog. It was almost surreal. These people had no idea what I had gone through the last couple nights. All the stress and feeling unsafe. Being here with these people, skipping rocks across a river while hundreds of golden leaves drifted by gave me peace. I felt like I could breathe again.

After returning to the house, Perry told us of a waterfall that would be cool for us to go check out. It was about a 20 minute drive north and was right on the highway. We all hopped in the Subaru and headed north. It was another beautiful drive. More turning trees and thick, lush forest. Vermont was beginning to remind me a lot of Oregon.

The waterfall was only about 30 or 40 feet tall, but stunning nonetheless. There was a boardwalk leading out to a spot that allowed people to look at the cascading water face to face. Before long I was over the railing and seeing where I could capture the best photograph. I wish that I had brought my tripod, but alas, it was back in town. We were on our on way back towards the car and I thought the excursion was over, but I was dead wrong.

Before I knew it Ralph was charging up the steep embankment to try and get to the top of the falls. He was in slacks and casual dress shoes; this would be interesting. Without hesitation, Misty followed in her flip-flops, which turned out to be not such a good idea. The ground was soft, wet and slippery. (We weren't climbing up the waterfall, but a ridge about 100 yards north of it.) She found that tackling this adventure with bare feet was a much better idea. I had my North Face hikers on, the shoes that had taken me across the country to be where I was; they gripped the ground like a knew they would, like champions.

We reached the top and did our best to look over the falls, but the landscape didn't allow for the view we were looking for so we headed up stream seeing what we could find. It was a magical place. The only litter was that of fallen trees and leaves strewn amidst the woods. We climbed under logs and over rocks and when I came around a corner I found Ralph standing on a fallen tree that was bridging the creek, bouncing up and down.

I was gaining more and more respect for this man at every turn in the road. Ralph had gray hair and I'm guessing is in his late 50's or 60's and still knew what it was to seek out adventure and fun. We made our way towards him and on his way back one of the logs he used to get out over the creek gave way beneath him and now his dress shoes were soaked through and the water line came straight up to his knee. We all burst into laughter! He couldn't have cared less. “They'll dry!” he said. We made our way back to where we came, but not without a crick crossing or two.

Before we got back on the road I bought some hard candy from a vender in the parking lot. Little morsels of maple and carmel infused together. So good. We headed north for a few more miles to find a covered bridge. We found the bridge, but didn't find it that impressive. It didn't matter though, we were just out killing time.

We made it back to the house and still had some time to kill before we could go over to the Inn for dinner. Josh is the chef and Perry has some sort of managerial role and said it would be best if we came around 8 o'clock. We played rummy for a couple hours. I played the novice card, but in the end, took home the bacon.

Around 8 o'clock we made our way over to the Inn. It was literally a five minute walk across the park in the center of town. The Huntington House Inn, very nice. They had just re-opened it and were still in the process of buying and renovating, but the food was delicious. I saw prawns on the menu and needed to look no more. I wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to have prawns, one of my favorite meals.

The restaurant picked up the tab and we walked back across the park to the house. There was just enough room for the four of us to lay down and get some sleep. I was looking forward to it. I had gotten up super early that morning to catch the bus; it had been a long day, an energizing day, but a long one. I was so thankful to have New York behind me.

In the morning, it was offered to me that I could stay one more night and catch a ride with Josh and Perry to Lebanon, New Hampshire the next day. They had to do some shopping out there so it worked out for all of us.

That Sunday was a fairy lazy day, but we did take a wee field trip up to Waterbury, VT. It is a quaint tourist town, but I did see an old friend there! US Highway 2! It was a joyous reunion. That route had served me well for about 1,000 miles so it was really neat to be back on it for a brief period of time.

We walked around town and without avail searched for this place that makes cheese, but via our attempts we did find a café! They served only Green Mountain Coffee mainly because the roastery was a mere 100 yards away. Having a roast-master for a father teaches one to appreciate and marvel coffee. And working for Peet's only strengthened that respect. There was a set up for a tour inside the café and a gentleman greeting people. I hadn't talked coffee with anyone for a while so it was refreshing to have a conversation with him. Green Mountain Coffee is a large company and I had no idea they were based out of this small town in northern Vermont; it was cool to be there.

After that we took a walk back towards the car and I decided to try and run along some railroad tracks. Probably the same line I had slept near a couple times back west! Anyway, I succeeded in running on top of the rail but I wanted to go further and faster. I thought it a good idea to get a running start and then try to step up onto the rail and hopefully my momentum would carry me a good distance. It did; until my left foot completely missed the rail and I came tumbling down. It wasn't a big deal. I was laughing, everyone was laughing and I even got a honk from a passing truck. My left knee was scraped and my hands were pretty chewed up. I didn't think it would scar, but it did and now I'll never forget that day in Waterbury, VT. On the way out of town we stopped by some gargantuan pumpkins. One of them was 786 pounds!

After returning to Rochester that afternoon the Meyers soon were on their way back to their little town of Argyle, NY. We said our goodbyes and I emphasized how thankful I was for all their help and hospitality. It truly was a blessing to have gotten in contact with them.

Shortly thereafter, both Josh and Perry had to head over to the Inn to start preparing for the evening. This left me all afternoon by myself, minus the dog, to relax and breathe. I grabbed my tripod and camera and headed down to the river where we were just the day before. The peak time for flamboyant leaves in this area had already blown through, but there were some leaves that were still holding on for dear life. I did my best to capture the vest beauty, but it was a challenge too big for me. I did my best, but even though they say a picture is worth a thousand words, I couldn't capture the majesty of the terrain.

Nevertheless, I did really enjoy getting some time to focus on photography. Tinkering with shutter speed, aperture and ISO has become a life-giving hobby for me. Spending a couple hours with my camera nurtures my soul. I felt like I was getting back on course. I had no idea what the next couple days would bring, but in that moment in between that corn field and that crisp river, nothing else mattered.

I eventually made my way back to the apartment and was happily greeted by their lab who's name I can't seem to recall. I spent some time reading and writing, but when dinner time rolled around I walked across the park to the Inn. I wanted to delay the inevitable meal of quinoa as long as I could.

I sat at the bar and brought Perry's computer because the place was equipped with WiFi. I wrote and ate and enjoyed two Bombay Sapphires and tonic with a lime. I was there until closing time and the owners of the place were kind enough only to charge me for the drinks. I was known as “cousin Tom”. Even though I really had no blood relation and barley an familial relation with Josh and Perry, “cousin Tom” just made it easy. I was good with that.

The next day we made our way out to Lebanon, NH. We got sandwiches for lunch and I made sure to get the biggest, baddest sandwich on the board. Who knew what the near future would hold; I needed to stock up on nutrition. I almost completely forgot my cell phone in the bathroom, but thankfully realized it was missing before we took off again.

Josh and Perry took me just a few more miles down the freeway and dropped me at an intersection with stop lights and a good amount of traffic. It was just after noon, so getting a ride out of here seemed likely. I was in the Northeast, however.

It took close to 90 minutes for Elialdredge to come to a abrupt and hurried stop right in the middle of the road in front of me. Elialdredge was a great guy. Older, but very active. Loved to cycle and I could imagine there had to be some great cycling in the area.

I was hoping he was going straight to Concord, but this was one of those rides where in order to get it, I had to get in the car before I knew where I was going. I was appreciative of his stop for me, but he was only going about 15 miles down the road. I could tell from the map that there wasn't much between Lebanon and Concord so I became a little worried when I realized I would be dropped off outside of some small town. I had learned that small towns usually consisted of amounts of traffic would be less than desirable and people would more than likely not be going very far. Bad news for me, or so I thought...

I had “Concord!” written on my sign and about an hour passed. I was feeling very frustrated. A familiar feeling of being so close and yet so far began to again creep in on my courage. I was within a hundred miles at this point! I began talking silliness to myself and to those passing me by, this was something that had become quite common. I think I'm pretty funny and gain life from laughter so making myself laugh had become a necessity.

I had also learned that the nicer the car, the less likely the person driving would be to stop and pick me up. LESS likely, but sometimes our learned presuppositions are thwarted. A BMW and a Subaru passed me on the on ramp and I unexpectedly turned around to see if the Subaru had slowed down at all and was surprised to see that the BMW had already pulled over to the shoulder!

His name is Keith and is the district superintendent of the school district I was hitching out of. He was going to a meeting in Concord! Score! Keith is a good man. Very personable and I could tell he was good at his job. Our conversation swirled around education, mine and his and education in general.

When we weren't talking, my focus was on the scenery. When people ask me if I got to see what the northeast if famous for in autumn, this drive is what fills my memory with colors. Keith and I were heading south/east on I89 and it was by far the best leaves I'd seen in the past week; in my whole life. Numerous times I caught myself peering out the passenger side window. I was mesmerized like someone staring into a camp fire. I had never seen leaves such vibrant colors. Mostly reds, oranges and yellows interlocked with the hearty green pines. It was spectacular.

Keith took time out of his busy schedule to hook me up with route 4 to head towards Portland. It was out of his way, but he was gracious enough to pull into a parking lot to let me off safely and then was off to his meeting. I would have a wee bit of walking to do to get to a place to hitch so I took a few minutes to collect myself, breathe and realize where I was. I really was SO CLOSE! With a revived endurance I hoisted my pack up on to my tired shoulders and put my hikers to work.

It was rush hour. In Concord New Hampshire; the capitol. I have become probably too comfortable crossing traffic, but have also learned where, when and how to do it. Walking between the front and back of two cars is only a problem if they're moving. If traffic was backed up to a stand still and I saw an opportunity to cross, it was more of an instinct. I had to get to the other side of the over pass to get to east bound traffic. I was in a bowl of freeways crossing like spaghetti, but I had no other options. My experience told me that trying to get a ride in traffic like this is highly unlikely. People are driving way to fast and are too afraid to pull over on the side of the freeway. My plan had become to not set up shop until I had out-walked the freeway, but always make sure my sign was visible. I tried to post up a couple different times near a couple different off/on ramps, but always felt like I could be in a better position.

I found a spot that looked like it might work; the freeway stretched for another 6 miles so there was no way I was going to out-walk it. It was just past an off ramp right on Route 4, which at that point was also about 3 other freeways. Less than 10 minutes later a red car started slowing down even before the driver could see me. This was unusual. Normally people fly past me and is they stopped it would be 100 yards down the road, but this car was lining up to stop right next to me!
A younger guy, maybe in his thirties/forties introduced himself as Beau. He said he had past me a couple exits back and had gotten off and did a big circle to come pick me up! People had done this for me before, but not in this heavy of traffic. Was very thankful and relieved, I did not want to spend much time on the busy freeway. He was a extremely nice guy, sadly unusually nice for the east coast, but then I found out he was from Colorado and it all made sense. :)

He had been in the Navy and landed here in the northeast about 15 years ago , found a lass and never looked back. He said he was one of the geeks of the Navy; dealing with nuclear science. We talked about what that was like, we talked about the trees. He said that last year was better, but I couldn't see how that was possible. I was in very unfamiliar territory and had a route planned out that seemed like the best route from Concord to Portland, but I'll say it again, if there's one thing I learned about being on the road, it's to trust a local.

Beau let me know that the route that I had planned out was not the best way to go about things. It was a road less traveled and took me through a couple towns that were known for their drugs. I heeded Beau's advice and he took me on to Dover the city where he lived to head out from therein the morning. I was hoping he would invite me to spend the night, but after he told me that his wife, being a true northeasterner, would be irate if she found out he even picked me up I didn't get my hopes up. However, he was as good to me as he could have been. He took me through “downtown” (very small) and past the hospital where he had told me were some woods and old ATV trails. Good enough for me.

He dropped me off right near the entrance to the area and bid me farewell. He was confident I would make it to Portland the next day. I wanted to believe him, but I knew until I got that for sure ride to the city, I couldn't get my hopes up. There was not much to be known other than I needed to find a place to camp for the night.

There was a good amount of day light left, but just enough to find a place and get dinner cooing. There was plenty of cover in this little area, but it was all too dense to trek through, let alone set up camp in. I double backed a couple times trying to find a suitable spot. There was a big open field spanning the space between the woods and a few houses, I could have pitched my tent anywhere out there, but then I was in view of the houses. But, if I got close enough to the homes, the tall brush would block the line of sight and still provide me with space to set up camp. That's exactly what I did.

I got camp set up in time to soak in a breathtaking sunset and make up some hot quinoa and salt. I was optimistic about the potential for the following day, but had to keep my mind in check.

I had decided that the next morning I would wake up at 5am, pack up camp and walk the rest of the distance to Maine. I was only four miles from the boarder! The combination of soft grass and my sleeping pad made for a comfortable bed and it took little effort to fall asleep.

It was a brisk awakening. The sky was clear the night before so I left my rainfly off to reduce to humility that would be trapped in the tent. Unfortunately,it was 70% humidity that night so everything got saturated anyway. There were mini icicles gripping to the ceiling of my tent and all over my gear for that matter. It was going to do me no good to stay in bed and try and wait for the sun, it was at least two hours away. The ice that was infused into the netting of my tent made it a challenge to pack it into its stuff sack, not to mention the fact that I had lost feeling in my fingers. But I had determination; motivation; I had hope that today would be the day.

The ice-crusted shin-high grass was like a frozen prison for my feet and ankles as I tried to make my way to the road, but my pack was lighter than even with ambition and excitement. Using the satellite view provided by Google Maps on my phone I was able to navigate the quickest path through the forest to reach the route I needed. I had committed to walking the four miles to Maine because I knew it would be a special moment and I wanted to ensure I had space to give it some celebration.

It's amazing what you see when you walk along the roads of America. Lots of trash unfortunately, but sometimes you get a treat. About midway into my walk I crossed paths with a cyclist. He was on the other side of the road heading west. He had a huge beard. I know on a personal level what a ten-month-old beard looks like and using that judgement I'd say he hadn't shaven for at least a year. He was towing a Yakima Bob trailer just like the one I hauled behind me from CA to UT, which is the trip that started the inspiration to hitchhike across this beautiful country. It was like one of those “full circle” kind of things. I offered a, “good morning” and he returned with the same. Not much was exchanged, but I gained strength and hope from that simple interaction. For me, it was a bit of confirmation that I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.

A couple miles later, I reached MAINE! I was in my final state! Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, North Dakota, Minnesota, Iowa, Wisconsin, Michigan, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Vermont and New Hampshire were ALL BEHIND ME and I was moving forward! The feeling in my fingers had finally returned and the hike had warmed my core so I soaked up the moment for a good while and took a couple photos to try and capture this momentous occasion.

I had walked into South Berwick, ME and I was ready to set up shop and wait for what would hopefully be my last ride. After all, I was only just over 30 miles from Portland at this point! I got to write, “PORTLAND!” on my sign for the first time and waited for the umpteenth time. I stood on east side of the bridge that covered the river which dissected ME from NH and held my sign high! It wasn't even 9am so I was hoping to catch someone commuting into Portland for work.

Being so close to my destination, the feeling of “waiting forever” was stronger than ever, but it really wasn't that long before Susan came along. I had made it a habit to pray for a ride every time I put my thumb out and there was a lot of anticipatory prayer coming out of me that morning. And I am so thankful for obedient followers like Susan. I understand the risks involved in picking up a stranger off the side of the road, I am driver too, but sometimes it's worth the risk. Susan had seen me and being the Godly women she is he first response was to simply ask God if she should pick me up. She told me that, “He said 'yes', so I did.”

She turned around and came back for me. My prayer had been answered because a fellow believer took time to pray as well. She is the wife of a worship pastor in a local church and even though she was only going a few miles up the road to home, she committed to take me to Wells, which is out on the coast, on route 1, the main vain to Portland. I wouldn't make to Portland on this ride, but I was thankful for it. Susan was so kind. We talked about the church, which felt so good and I felt honored to be picked up by a women that was so involved in her community. She offered to buy me a latte at Dunkin' Doughnuts (classic east coast!) and I humbly accepted. Even though it wasn't Peet's, it was so good. I was still pretty cold so to drink a hot beverage was so exhilarating.

Next she took me to the beach. The air was full with wind and salt and clouds and cold, but the sight of the Atlantic Ocean did something inside me. An overwhelming emotion of accomplishment enveloped me and I was brought close to tears. This was it, this was the East Coast, this was the other edge of the nation!

I wasn't sure if she was planning on dropping me here or not, so I never even got out of the car because this would be a terrible spot to try and hitch from. We sat there for a few minutes and then she said she would take me up to the north side of town and assured me I would make it to Portland in no time.

Susan dropped me off in the parking lot of a country-style restaurant and I took advantage of the picnic tables outside to remove the second pair of socks I had put on hours before and try and find the best place to stick my thumb out. From here there were two ways to get to Portland. Route 1 was more direct while route 9 hugged the rugged coast line. They reconnected just a few miles before reaching Portland so either one would work for me, but I had to choose which one I thought would be a better bet. I chose route 1 because I thought that if people were going straight into the city, this would more than likely be their choice. Route 9 took you straight into Bush territory, more vacation-y type places.

It was still only about 9:30 in the morning, so catching that ride with a commuter was still a possibility. But as time worn on, that possibility became less and less of a reality. The roads were almost dominated by RVs and trailers pulled by trucks. People were here to see the turning leaves and I couldn't blame them. It was still beautiful.

I waited for 90 extremely anxious and frustrating minutes before Ed to pulled over. Normal guy, smokes, drives a burgundy Buick, mid 40's and balding. He too was only going a few miles up the road back to his house before he had to go to work at 2. He works for Tom's of Maine. They make toothpastes and mouthwash and that kind of stuff. He is one of the nine guys who actually measures and mixes the all natural ingredients.

The classic questions started popping out of him and I could tell that my answers hit him deep. He was moved by my story and what I was doing and the fact that I was so tangibly close. He said that if we could stop by his place he could take me a little further up the road. I willingly agreed. He lives in a upstairs apartment and was kind enough to let me use the restroom. I had only met this guy less then 15 minutes before this point and it hit me that what if this guys was crazy. What if he had lured me in here to try and hurt me or worse. It was one of the most frightened pees I had ever taken and after washing my hand's with Tom's of Maine hand soap I slowly opened the bathroom door with my left hand while my right hand had a firm grip on my knife ready for whatever might be waiting.

Ed was in the living room gathering his work clothes and boots and without even turning around just started asking me more questions. I could tell he trusted me and that allowed me to trust him. Little did I know this would become arguably the best ride of the whole trip!

The more we headed toward Portland the more he got to hear my stories and the more he got inspired. He kept saying that he would just take me to the next town again and again and eventually he exclaims, “Ah hell man! I'll take you all the way to Portland!” A shock of energy rushed all throughout my body and soul, this was it, this was my final ride!

I had put a lot of wonder into what this ride would be like. I would be accomplishing a dream that had grown for over 5 years and I knew I would feel on top of the world and I was nervous what kind of person would have to experience that with me. I was hoping for someone exactly like Ed, someone that was just as excited as I was and made me feel comfortable being excited. He considered it an privilege to take me to Portland. He kept saying this was a once in a life time opportunity for him! He was the perfect last ride.

It took us almost an hour to go 20 miles because of the stop at his house, he took me the long way around to show me the better looking part of the area, we stopped for gas and he bought me lunch at Burger King! But we did eventually get to Portland!

He refused to take me to any other point in the city except for Longfellow square. He said it represented the center of the city and was the only acceptable spot for me to complete my Journey. There was no arguing with him. :) He took me into the city via the southern route and as he was pointing at something across the water he almost plowed right into the stopped car inf front of us! The anti-lock-brake system had to kick in and everything. It was a close one, but I saw it in time and we avoided a collision. He was just so excited to be doing this with me!

As had become customary, Ed took me the long way into the center of town showing me where all the pubs were and the wharf and places I needed to check out. We weaved our way through the narrow streets framed by wavy brick sidewalks and towering brick buildings. So far, I liked the feel of this city. Older than most so cobblestone streets were not uncommon.

We pulled up next to the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Monument and parked in a 15 minutes parking spot. We both got out and I unloaded my stuff and leaned it up against a park bench. Ed was just as excited as I was and was happy enough to take a picture with me near the statue. It was the perfect end to a trip full of fun and frustration. We hugged and said our thank you's and goodbyes and Ed was back to his regular life of making toothpaste, but I know that this whole experience chanced him even just a little bit.

So there I was. In the middle of a city that I had never been to. It was a little after noon, I had no place to sleep that night and my phone's battery was shrinking. As a congratulatory gift my parents had offered to put me up for a couple nights, but finding a cheap place with in walking distance of where I sat was quite the challenge. But my mom is a warrior and deal finding genius and found a wee Inn about a mile away for a great price. My phone had gotten down to 4% battery life by the time she found the place and called me to let me know. I quickly located it on my phone, memorized the address and directions and started trucking.

About 15 minutes later I walked into The Inn at St. John and after receiving a free upgrade to a king sized bed in a room on the first floor with no windows I felt like I could relax. You might think that no windows would be a down-grade, but after many nights sleeping in a tent, a room with no light and no traffic noise was my heaven.

I rested for a few hours, asked the guys at the front desk where to go for the best lobster dinner and was on my way to J's Oyster near the water.

I had done it. After 46 days, 61 rides and over 4,000 miles I had hitchhiked across the United States of America! Although disassembling that lobster was one the harder tasks of the trip, it was one of the best dinners I have ever had.

This was a trip of a life time. I as so glad I did it, don't regret one thing about it.

I learned a few things: Trust a local. There is no reward without risk. And lastly and most predominately, there are still good people out there. Don't fall into the lie that every stranger is out to get the best of you. It's not true. You will get no where in life if you don't trust people.

Thank you to all who helped me along the way. I was the one with his thumb out, but so many of you carried me along the way. From God to family to friends to strangers, I owe so much gratitude to so many of you. I'll take some space to thank just a few.

I want to give a special thanks to my Shoulder Angel, Cameron McClean. Wow man, you flat backed me when I found out it was you who kept sending my encouragements, Bible verses and prayers all the way through. God has done work in out friendship and I am so thankful for it. It is a story of redemption and proof that Christ really is reconciling all things. Thank you brother.

Mom, Dad, thank you so much for training me up to be becoming the kind of man that can take on such a dream and a struggle. Your parenting is defined by teaching me a balance of appreciation for home and a yearning for adventure. Thank you for letting learn how to be independent while always being there when I need you most.

To my lovely Desiraé, thank you for all the phone calls, texts, notes, and overnighted packages of food and encouragement. Thanks for your patients and motivation to be who I am and to do what brings me life. Countless times you brought me up when I was low. Thanks for being on the phone with me while I broke into the abandoned motel! I am looking forward to living more life with you!

I quickly want to apologize for the delay on a number of these posts. I think it is evident that I even post college I still struggle with procrastination, but thank you for your time and I hope this story and stories has an impact on you and challenges you to think about how you interact with strangers and challenges to bring out the good in humanity.

Remember: “Ya gotta have a soul t' travel.”

This was my route:
View from Portland to Portland in a larger map

to see a few of the photos follow this link: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2031907&id=176800725&l=b42d58ecca

Syracurse

I was hopeful as Kevin and I stood out in front of what we thought was the famous/infamous frat house. I was texting Jill back an forth to make sure we had the right contacts for this place. It seemed like if we didn't mention the right people, we would not be welcomed. I was nervous, but I finally worked up the courage to knock on the door.

Before the door even opened, we were greeted by the sounds of deep barking. Great, they have a guard dog. As the door swung open, a young kid (younger than me at least) barefoot and shirtless wearing only sport shorts stood curiously half bent over holding tightly to the Doberman's collar. He had long hair and had a slightly glazed look about him. I fed him the line I had been rehearsing in my head for the last 15 minutes, "Hi, my name's Tom and I know Bruce Leach and was told to ask for Ryan R*** or Derek L***" (I'm withholding their names considering the stories about to be told...) The guy at the door politely told us to wait where we were as he went to get Ryan. Ryan came to the door and I think had been expecting us via Bruce and greeted us with, "Ah! The Travelers! Come on in..."

I had never been in a frat house before, but it reminded me a lot of the dorms. Kids playing video games (Super Smash Bros. to be exact) a pool table and a truck load of couches. I was fairly uncomfortable from the start. Just like any 18 to 22 year old male, hospitality was not their strong suit. We just put our bags down in the front room and one by one the guys started to gather around to hear some stories; oh and pass around a joint. It wasn't 10 minutes into the stay and Mary Jane had already made herself known. I caught some flack for not partaking. They insisted that on a trip like this I needed to "experience everything". My thinking was that by not getting high and numbing my brain and senses that I actually would be experiencing everything. It only took a few times of reinforcing the reality that I wasn't going to try it until they backed off; it was offered a few more times, but they never pushed after that. Kevin, however, smoked his share.

We stank and I wanted to take a shower. This was the only time I used my quick-dry camp towel and I was so relieved to have it. I don't think I need to go into detail in regards to the state of the bathroom. There were 18 guys living in the house and 3 bathrooms that were barely surviving.

It was late afternoon and after getting cleaned up and some video games, Kevin and I went out to find some food. We found our way down to a Subway. I woofed down a footlong Italian BMT while Kevin "munched" on a few cookies and chips. I was nervous to go back to the house, there was talk of "some people are gunna get messed up tonight". I was so tired. It was only pushing 7 and I was thinking about where I was gunna sleep tonight. Ryan told me I could move my gear up into his room to "keep it safe" because there were gunna be a load of people over that night. Ryan was a real cool guy, super nice.

That night was kind of a blur for me, mostly because I was simply exhausted. I took a few opportunities to chat with a few of the guys, but a lot of it looked like Kevin and I just sitting on one of the couches watching sports whatever was on. More people showed up and I went outside onto the cement porch. The music was blaring and the smoke was thickening. It was chilly, but not cold enough to send me back inside. Derek, the current president came out and talked to Kevin and I for a while. He seemed very impressed with what we were doing. Traveling they way we were and all. We told him the story of the motel.

From the guys that lived there that I talked with there seemed to be a respectful jealousy towards us. Being "free". I'm glad that I was able to tell them that I went to school and graduated before I set off on the road. I think gaining knowledge from experiences like this is unique and unattainable through any other course, but an academic education is irreplaceable as well. I encouraged them to finish school and then do whatever traveling or adventures they see on the horizon. That is, if they we're drunk and/or high.

The party that night was a challenge for me. I realized that there is no way I could live that kind of life. It seemed like they were drowning in a continued state of avoiding and hiding from reality; from what life really consists. But that's just my point of view.

Passing the time that night was difficult. All I wanted to do was go to sleep. Finally, 4am crept up and I needed to find a place to rest. Normally I would be fine with crashing on the couches down stairs, but thy were littered with people and shaking from the music. I found Ryan he said I could shack up in his room on the couch. It still wasn't peaceful. People were constantly coming in and out; surprised that someone was trying to sleep. I longed for the light of day. I wasn't going to get much sleep anyway. Then it hit me, how are we going to get out of here?

I awoke groggy and frustrated about the night prior and anxious about the day. I doubted any of these guys would "be able" to take us very far let alone get us out to the freeway. It was about 9am and I got dressed and walked down to Starbucks, That's how bad it was; I resorted to Starbucks. I got a latte and a scone and enjoyed some quieter moments. I had my camera with me and on my return I took some time to snap a photo or two. There is a sizable building near the center of the campus. The words, "HENDRICKS CHAPEL" were carved into the stone slab that was held up by 30 foot pillars. I hoped to God it would be open; it would have been the perfect remedy for how I was feeling. Alas, it was locked. Fitting.

When I returned to the frat house nearly two hours later there was a lack of surprise that flushed over me to find that the place was still as quiet as I had left it. No one was awake. Usually by this time of the day I had been on the road for at least an hour and now I was hoping to get out there with enough light to function.

Kevin moseyed his way down stairs to find me watching college football and we watched and waited for any sign of life, other than the few people that didn't make the effort to go upstairs last night to their beds. Around one o'clock a flood of them came tumbling down the stairs and were off to a volleyball game. We weren't invited. We talked to one student about how we didn't have a way of getting back out to the highway and he said that after he returned from buying booze for the night ahead, he could help us out.

An hour or so had passed and by this time Kevin and I were packed and ready to go. We had talked about getting him a bus ticket to Boston and after a few phone calls to the bus station, I decided to buy him a ticket. His bus was scheduled to leave at 4:15 and it was approaching 3pm. I found the guy who said he could give us a ride and he said, "let's go!" He was in a hurry to go out and get even more alcohol. Another reason I wanted to get out of there. I planned to walk to the nearest on ramp from the bus station and try to get to Albany.

I bought Kevin is ticket, we offered good luck to each other, he called his girl one last time to tell her he would be there that night and we parted ways. I was glad to be able to do that for Kevin. He had been a good traveling partner and I was also looking forward to traveling on my own again. Kevin and I keep in loose contact over Facebook and last I heard he's still in Boston. He wants to eventually start his own computer business doing (I think) software fixes remotely or something like that. Good luck man!

It was about 3:30 and I had about 1.5 miles to walk to get to the closest on ramp for the Thru-way. Daylight was weening and I knew I had little time to get my thumb out there. I walked as fast as I could with 66 pounds on my back (I weighed my pack at the bus station!). My next stop would be close to Albany because I had "family" there. I put family in quotes because it's a stretch. I had never met them, I had never even heard of them before I was in Iowa a few weeks back and my cousin in-law told me she had an "aunt and uncle" out in northeastern New York. They weren't even her aunt and uncle by blood! But nonetheless, I had their number and was not going to pass up this opportunity.

As I walked briskly through the brisk air I called the home of Kate and Ralph Meyer. A warming female voice answered the phone and it didn't take much introduction on my part for her to know who I was. Thankfully Kiley (my cousin in-law) had let them know I would be coming their way and Kate was happy that I had called and that I was relatively close. What was better news is that they were heading to Vermont the next day! I had to reach Albany that night or at the latest before they left the next day. I told Kate I would do my best to reach Albany that night, but sadly could not guarantee anything.

There I was in the middle of New York on the outskirts of the city and 5 miles from the frat house and after a few hours of hitchhiking without luck, dusk was giving way to night. There was no place to camp. Not safe at least. Traffic whizzed around surrounding industrial buildings and given the amount of sleep logged the night /morning before a bed inside a quiet motel room seemed too appetizing. I succumbed to my darkening reality and with quick fingers on a touch-screen was able to locate the cheapest motel within walking distance.

I settled into my room that night and looked forward to some real good sleep. I had called the Meyers back and told them my plan, that I was going to take a bus from Syracuse to Albany the next morning and was scheduled to arrive at the bus station at 9am. Even though they live an hour north of Albany, Ralph told me he was more than willing to come and pick me up.

As I was preparing for bed I went to plug in my almost completely drained phone only to find that my wall charger was not in it's specific location within my camera bag. I searched a wee bit, but soon realized that I had left it plugged into the wall downstairs at the frat house. The frat house was 5 miles away; within walking distance, but late night in a city I didn't know without a way of finding my way (a.k.a. my phone was dead) was not a good idea. Besides, they had some huge party going on and there was no way I wanted to be there. I would have to make do...

My wake up call came at 4:45 and I readied myself for the two mile walk back to the bus station where I parted ways with Kevin less than 12 hours prior (he had made it to Boston by then). I snagged two nutrient rich bananas, (they're like God's energy bar!) left one of my blog cards on the desk for the sleeping attendant and was out the door.

The air was thick and gray with heat sucking moisture, but my constant movement kept me warm. I didn't stop walking. My normal form of gaining directional information (my phone) was pretty useless, but thankfully my father passed on to me a keen sense of direction and a tight memory. I found my way back to the bus station without a hitch. ;) Yeah, that's a pun.

Before 6:30am I was loaded on the bus and was looking forward to being with people that at least knew OF me and vice versa. I had reserved about 5% battery life on my phone to be able to call Ralph once I arrived and hoped that would be enough, but turns out I needed not to worry. Before we disembarked, a young man, a student I think, sat down across the isle from me. I noticed that he too had an iPhone and without hesitation I asked if he had a "car-charger" with him. The bus was equipped with charger outlets and he had the charger! He thankfully let me borrow it. When God looks out for us in little ways, it really gets to me. He blessed me with that simple acquaintance.

Allow me some space to talk about why I lowered my standards and took a bus. A. I was utterly sick of New York. I had been there too long and the rain and difficulty of travel were emotionally weighing me down. I needed a fresh state, which leads me to "B" B. I had a guaranteed ride to Vermont and more than likely a place to stay along with it. But mostly, I was over New York. :)

We arrived in Albany on time and I called Ralph right away, but it went straight to his voicemail. I had called him earlier to let him know that I was for sure on the bus so he knew I was coming, but now all I could do was wait and hope I wasn't stuck in downtown Albany for who knows how long...

The Not-So Thru-Way...

I awoke to a clear crisp morning. The castaway leaves were dotting the wet soil and I felt evermore anxious to reach my goal.

The few days leading up to this morning were discouraging and flattening; I felt deflated. My determination had been derailed more than a few times and flying back west from Buffalo crossed my mind more than once. If a moment existed to back out, this was it. It was either continue on along with Kevin towards Syracuse and beyond or I could walk a mile and be checking my bags in a few hours. I had come so far, more than 3,000 miles I would guess, but the days prior had made my destination seem so far away.

That morning, I honestly didn't have to think about it very long. I had gotten a good night's sleep and after a hearty breakfast of oatmeal and granola I was ready for the road again. I had a connection in Syracuse that I was confident in so that would more than likely be our next stop.

Remember Dr. Rob Leach? The abundantly gracious dentist back in Michigan? Well, he and his family just wouldn't quit helping me and I was more than grateful to accept. Jill and Rob's son, Bruce graduated from Syracuse University a few years ago and was the president of a fraternity located on campus. Before I left their home in Michigan, they assured me that when I reached Syracuse the fraternity brothers would take me in as family; as long as I dropped Bruce's name. I know frat houses have a bad reputation, but just like America as a whole, I was curious to find out for myself what they were really like. More of that story to come, but as for now, let's get back to Buffalo.

Kevin and I packed up camp and made our way from the woods. As we ascended to the short gravel road there was a older woman teaching her grand daughter to ride a bike. They were walking and riding away from us and didn't see us coming. Barring my inclination to give them a wee fright, I offered a simple "good morning" from about 20 feet back. They were both a little stunned and the woman asked in a friendly tone, "where did you two come from?!" It was fairly obvious that we had been camped in the nearby woods so a playful, slightly sarcastic, "oh, nowhere!" Some friendly words were exchanged and she pointed us in the right direction to find the onramp we were headed for.

About 20 minutes and one mile later we reached the fairly busy intersection and posted up on the shoulder of the on ramp. This ramp was for both West and East-bound, but it was our only option. I wrote "Rochester" on the whiteboard and it was time for our well-weathered patients to kick in.

Maybe 30 minutes had passed by the time Joe almost violently pulled over for us. I claimed the front seat so I could charge my phone and figure out the best place for Joe to drop us at. He was on his way to downtown Rochester which was about 60 miles. There was only one, unforeseeable issue...

If you were to open a map of New York, (like anyone ever "opens" maps anymore. A paper map?! What?!) and were to locate Rochester, you would find that it sets just underneath and near the center of the southern shore of Lake Ontario. The New York Thru-way or I-90 streaks across New York and shoots right under Rochester about 15 miles give or take. I-490 departs I-90 about 20 miles southwest of the city, goes straight into downtown and then leaks back out southeasterly to meet up with I-90 again. It's like a huge triangle with Rochester at the top. OK, so all that explanation to tell you that getting dropped off on the 90 southwest of the city where the 490 starts to reach towards Rochester was a bad idea! But, not enough thought was put into the DZ; my bad.

We couldn't hitch straight on the toll way and were verbally restricted to a part of the 490 away from the booths by a toll teller. Usually that wouldn't be too bad, but given the aforementioned architecture of the freeways, NO ONE coming south on I-490 from Rochester was going our direction, they were all, seemingly, going back towards Buffalo. We had no choice, after a couple dry hours of no rides and thankfully no rain, we decided to head into Rochester to then immediately try to get a ride OUT of Rochester. We dodged to the other side of the highway and set up shop.

Both Kevin and I were looking towards oncoming traffic when a voice from behind greet us with, "where ya guys heanin'?" A young lad named Josh had pulled over behind us and both Kevin and I had failed to notice. We explained our situation and although he was heading home to Rochester he willingly agreed to take us east of Rochester. Score. Big time score. We wouldn't have to get dropped off in the city and then try and get a ride out. It was only about noon, but getting dropped in a city is always risky. Josh is a saint.

He was driving a mini van so that was awesome. He was 25 and giving school another shot back in Buffalo. He was fun and spurring to talk to because he had that same sense of adventure I did. He was amazed at what we were doing and seemed inspired. I got a sense that he felt privileged to help out. Although getting straight back on 90 would have been quicker, I think being distracted by the circumstances of picking up two complete strangers, Josh proceeded towards Rochester, took us over downtown and back to 90. He drove us much further than I had anticipated. I am unsure of the exact location to be honest, but it must have been about another 20 miles down 90 where there was a rest stop that Josh let us off at.

This place was no ordinary rest stop either. It had a full fledged food court and gas station! We had given Josh our names and emails and as we were retrieving our gear form the van, Josh handed us BOTH $40. This guy blew me away. Really did not see that coming. It was such a blessing. I almost hugged him as we parted ways, but advised myself against it. The NE was new territory and I still have no idea how people interact.

We took some time to eat lunch and use the facilities before we set back out on the road. In our time we made our way out near the on ramp that lead drivers back onto the Thru-way. Not 5 minutes passed before Pat pulled over to pick us up. He had seen us standing near the door getting out stuff together and had decided then that he would help us out. It was an encouraging act of kindness.

He was going to Syracuse to see his son who is studying out there. He was a really cool guy. A fellow Eagle Scout and had done his share of backpacking the Adirondack mountains. If I remember correctly, he had been in the U.S. Forrest Service. He had a laid back personality and was more than happy to take us all the way into the city of Syracuse almost to the threshold of the fraternity house. That story will have to wait until next time!

Check back soon!

Slowly Going the Way of the Buffalo

So, returning back to places that I know has proved much more busy than projected.

I am back in the Bay Area right now with my parents. It's good to be back here and to see them. I also put my clothes in a dresser for the first time since I left for Northern Ireland back in late July! Been living out of a bag ever since. Sorry that there has been so much space in between blogs. Not only has these last couple weeks been full of activity, but it takes quite a bit of effort to sit down and write these stories. They're almost intimidating for me. However, I do need to get all these down. As time goes on, so go the details of events and happenings so without further ado, let's pick up where we left off... (Oh, by the way, I have adopted the habit of listening to my "Explosions in the Sky" Pandora Radio station while I write. Thanks Jeremy Stringer.)

The sun went down on my writing when we were falling asleep in Blasdell, NY. Kevin and I had found a place to camp sheltered from the near by houses and interstate by trees and shrubs. The plan for the next morning was to walk a mile to a laundromat. (I find it funny that "laundromat" is actually the correct spelling. Really Webster? "Laundromat"?)

The knee high grass was soaked in morning dew and after breakfast we trudged through it to the open road. I knew that doing our laundry would take a while, but I was looking forward to being able to sit inside for a good length of time. With any luck there would be power outlets and even a bathroom!

We walked through the door at about 9:30 and was greeted by the friendly attendant. She was a younger women with shorter dark hair and good smile. I asked for some advice as to what machine to use for the amount of laundry that we had. We started loading up the 45 pound capacity machine and the attendant came over and gave us some detergent, stain remover, softener and some dryer sheets. She could tell we had been on the road for a while and could use the help. It was a welcomed blessing. I pressed start and waited for the troubles of the last few days to be washed away.

I plugged my phone in and began to journal. I had to record these stories. After a fair amount of time, I utilized the bathroom. Trimmed up my now undesirably visible beard and brushed my teeth over running water! I also took the opportunity to wash my hair. I felt a little odd doing this, but I suppressed the notion that I was better than that, humbled myself and got cleaned up a bit. At another point I took the opportunity to wash my dishes.

We were at the laundromat for close to 3 hours. The attendant eventually went home, but before she did, she took time to tell us about and show us where some shelters were in the area and where we could find food banks. She gave us at least two boxes worth of Chewy granola bars and offered us some baby food that she had found in her car. I took a jar, but never had to eat it. She was very helpful and didn't mind at all that we had more or less posted up in her work place.

We switched the clothes to the dryer and started another dryer for our sleeping bags and shoes, which were soaked. So far that day it had been nice, but I could see on the news on the TV that more rain was coming our way. It took almost another hour for our stuff to be completely dried, but we eventually got on our way. Our goal for where to hitch from was an on ramp about two and half miles from where we were currently. Almost an hour's walk.

On our walks like this I would get to know Kevin a bit more. Without disrespecting his privacy I'll just tell you that I had begun to trust him much more and we had a few good laughs together. It was nice to have someone along for this part of the trek. He kept me going. This stretch of New York was depressing. I literally felt at times that like I was being pressed down to the earth. I would "joke" about flying home from Buffalo, but he would encourage me to keep going. We had only done about 50 miles since reaching New York and that was four days ago! UGH! It was good to have someone to help me keep my sanity, but I started to wonder if trying to hitch with two people had effected progress so dramatically. Either way, we had to keep walking, I couldn't just walk away from him, we were going the same direction! Plus, he was good to have around.

We reached our intersection of 90 and Ridge Rd., which is more or less in between towns and set up shop. I wrote "East!" on my sign and an hour went by. I had developed a rule that if an hour passed I would change my sign. So, I wrote, "Buffalo". Another hour. Out of frustration and debate with Kevin I wrote "AIRPORT". Not 15 minutes passed before Bill picked us up. He was driving a new black and red Dodge Charger. We crammed our stuff in back and were on our way. He was going to the airport and due to lack of understanding and communication he dropped us off where the 33 comes out of 90. It would have been perfect for him to have driven us right up next to the airport, but I was thankful for the ride anyway. It was a short ride, maybe 10 miles and then Kevin and I had to walk up the off ramp that Bill took to get to the airport and a half hour later found ourselves walking on the sidewalk across the street from Buffalo Airport.

We kept on walking and I was able to locate a potential campsite. We had walked almost as much as we had gotten a ride for that day, but eventually found a place about a mile east of the airport to set up camp. It was about 5 o'clock at this point so just enough time to set up, cook dinner and get some writing in. It was a small patch of woods that had yet to be developed where Kevin found some low horizontal branches to drape his tarp over. I found a good spot for my tent about 50 yards away. I tried to light a fire, but everything was still too wet from the storm that had just blown through. We could still hear the humming traffic.

Slowly but [kind of] Surely...

Hello there! I'm back to writing again, hopefully I will get the rest of the story down by the end of the week! Writing these stories isn't easy for me to do, I like to put a lot of thought and care into them, I want to try and bring you into the story with me. I do my best to make it less a listing of chronological events and show you more of what I was feeling and especially highlighting the people I met. If you haven't had a chance to read the post below, I encourage you to do so, otherwise, some things won't make much sense.

Kevin and I were out on front of that auto body shop for maybe 20 minutes. He had no phone, so I let him call his girl out in Boston to check in. He'd done this a couple times before and just like this time, had to leave a message. He would justify it with explaining her unpredictable work schedule, but I have to admit, having just met Kevin, at times I questioned what was really going on. Should I, could I believe his story? He seemed like a nice guy who had just had some rough times, but I learned that the road is a home to variables. I have always tried to think the best of people and trust them at their word, but I couldn't help but question.

Dan pulled up eventually and could take us to Irving, about a 20 minutes drive. He was a younger guy, went out to get some meat to barbeque that night. Looked delicious. He was very interested in what we were doing. Jealous, even. Kevin told his story and then it was my turn. One of the first things people want to know about a traveler is where did you start and where are you going. I loved it when they asked that. I loved seeing and hearing their reactions when I would tell them I started in Portland, Oregon and I'm going to Portland, Maine. Dropped jaws. Wide eyes. Blank stares. You name it, I got it. Dan's reaction though, was different, in a good way, a really good way.

I was in the back seat of his huge, white Cadillac and when I told him where I came from and where I was going, he whipped around and said, “We're going to Vermont on Sunday.” I was stunned. This could be my ticket out of here! Out of New York! I started to think that we would just spend the next four days hanging out with Dan and his friends and then leave for Vermont of Sunday! We could have good barbequed ribs and whatever else. I would be fine with camping out in his backyard, at least I would be protected from the road. Then he said that if we were on the way for them, he would stop and pick us up. Still good, but no BBQ and hot showers. Before we got out of the car I gave him my phone number and made sure how incredible it would be if he called me on Sunday and was able to take us to VT. It really seemed like he was planning on it. He left us recharged and hopeful.

We took a minute to gather our things and thoughts and then began to make our way out to the road. We were going to scout out a spot to set up shop. As were made our way to the sidewalk, thumbs in pockets (metaphorically speaking, of course) we watched a 1990's, white Jeep Cherokee pull to the shoulder. We'd both seen this before. Most of the time it was someone on their cell phone or someone looking at a map. We joked about how cool it would be if this guy pulled over for us, but knew that he would be confusedly looking at his cell phone as we walked by. I barely made the effort to even look in and make eye contact, but before I could, that glorious action of a window being rolled down took place.

His name was Tom and he had seen us get out of Dan's car from the shop across the street. Once he realized we were going his way, he decided to give us a lift before we even asked! Tom was an upbeat kind of guy. Loved to talk and warned us about a little town near where he would drop us called, Blasdell. He said he has this old timer friend who hitchhikes just about everywhere. Tom told us that there only three patrol cars in that town, but they're all little John Waynes. He said if we tried to hitch onto the toll way out of there, we'd get picked up, by the cops.

Tom dropped us off northeast of Hamburg which is south of Blasdell. He was going on up to Lackawanna and I wish he would have taken us up there, it was only about another six miles up the road, but that evening and the next morning, we ended up walking those six miles in order to reach a good campsite and then an onramp to hitchhike off of. But that's ok, when you're new in town, I've learned to trust a local.

We posted up on US 20 trying to head towards Buffalo, but not too close. Even when I have my own car, cities freak me out, but we decided that trying to get a ride onto the toll way was probably our best option. We weighed out the amount of traffic to what kind of rides we would get. We new that hitching on a onramp would decrease the amount of cars driving by going in our direction, but unlike US 20, they would be more likely to be longer rides; not town to town, but city to city. We thought it feasible to hop from Buffalo to Rochester to Syracuse and then maybe all the way to Albany. The only challenge was making it to an onramp. Six miles in a car is nothing. But when you're walking with a 70 pound pack in new territory, I think we averaged, with breaks, about 1.5 to 2 miles per hour.

While we were still at an intersection trying to get a ride, an old man in a power scooter rolled up. I knew this was going to be good. He wasn't very nice, fairly bitter, but he told us that we won't get any rides where we were. The people around there were yuppy and above helping out. Simply judging by the kind of cars driving by, I could see where he was coming from. He said he hitchhikes all the time (I think he may has lost concept of time), but nonetheless, he told us to walk up and find an on ramp. He confirmed what we were both thinking and we picked up and started waling. It was getting later in the afternoon and trying to get anywhere to hitch now before dark was irrational, but on my phone I had spotted a possible campsite about 3 miles away.

It was on walks like these that Kevin and I really would get a chance to talk about life and everything that circumferences it. I learned that he grew up near the Twin Cities, MN mostly with his brother and his mother. I could tell that he had been wounded as a child. Like so many people out there, Kevin's father had been absent for most of his life. Until recently (which was minimal), he hadn't heard from his dad since he was 13. He's 30 now. He had a basis of faith and knows who Jesus is and what it means to be saved. His language and stories were misleading at first, but the more I got to know Kevin, it became clear to me that he is a believer. The life he leads makes it difficult to live what would be noted as the “normal Christian life”, but he'll be honest and say that Jesus is his hope and couldn't make it without him.

About three and half miles into our hike, we found ourselves in Consumersville, Blasdell, New York. We were walking past restaurants, a Best Buy, a movie theater and you get the picture. We stuck out like a sore thumb. There were no sidewalks so we had to weave our way through parking pots to avoid traffic. My phone was running low on power so I had my eyes peeled for any outlets on the outside of buildings.

We could have gone to a Starbucks, but that would have cost close to ten bucks plus I don't go to Starbucks. We were coming to the end of this buzzing metropolis when we happened upon the back side of a travel agency. There, midway up the wall, was an outlet! I told Kevin we were gunna have to hang out here for a wee while to let my phone charge up. I whipped out my handy dandy backpacking chair and let me phone juice up. It was raining. I guess you could have just assumed that by now, but Kevin took advantage of it and positioned his water bottles under a drain pipe to collect water for that night and the next day. I was all filled up. We knew that maybe this wasn't “ok” to be doing, but until somebody asked us to leave, we were chillin. We even had a cop car swing by, see us, but not stop. The time was creeping to six o'clock and my phone had reached a safe 60% of battery. Dark would be upon us in about an hour so we packed up and finished our walk for that day.

The snapshot you see here is our walk from the travel agency to where we camped that night. The area west of the “B” is where we eventually settled for the night. It was an interesting location because we knew we were surrounded by houses and roads, but once we got back there, all that slipped away. Except for the noise.

The space had been left undeveloped because it was already home to huge power lines and poles. The poles were in rows, sets of probably ten supporting lines that were stretching to who knows where. We went as far away from the access roads as we could and we made a lean-to in between to poles with Kevin's tarp. We used the rope Harley had given us and staked down the low side using the back side of my tent. Much better setup than the night prior. I cooked us up some tasty quinoa and eventually fell asleep. I had located a laundry mat just down the road we decided would be our first stop of the day. Getting clean and dry were priorities at this point. It would be off to Buffalo after that!

That's all for now! Stay tuned for stories of Buffalo Airport, a frat house at Syracuse and of course the finale: PORTLAND MAINE!

Thank for taking the time to read!

Town to Town

Disclaimer – most of this was written yesterday and finished and edited today, Sunday. I have a lot more to tell and so I think for my sake and yours, I'm going to write as much as I can in one sitting, but then post it. This will lead to shorter posts, but more often. I'm “long-winded” when I write because I hope to express more than the play by play of this trek. I am in Portland, OR for the rest of the week plus some and will have time to write, so keep your eye out for new posts even every day!

Enjoy this one!

Well, I made it back to the west coast! Back in Portland Oregon to be exact. Today is Saturday, October sixteenth in the year Two Thousand Ten; seven weeks to the day from when I left this city. I'm sitting in the Peet's (of course) on Hawthorne Blvd. watching all the interesting people walk, ride, roll and drive by. This place has a lot of character and it makes for a very beautiful moving montage.

I left you, hopefully, suspended in New York. The rain was washing the streets away, the cold was sinking to our bones and the cops were hunting us down. There's room for slight embellishment in writing, right? I think so.

Kevin and I had been jolted into an adrenaline filled escape with very few places to go. When I stopped writing last, Kevin and I were all but strapped to the backside of an abandoned auto body shop while the Sheriff's Mag-light was illuminating the bush in search for any sign of two delinquent transients. We weren't breathing. Survival mode kicked in. My heart felt like it was doubling in size with every beat, but outside that, the ability to move had leaked out of me.

In that moment and that moment only, I was glad for the rain. I think it discouraged the Sheriff to conduct a thorough search and less than 30 seconds later, his flashlight turned off, we heard the door close back up and his headlights streak across the bushes suggesting he had pulled away.

Oxogen found its way back to my brain and Kevin went to light up. I stopped him. I was so freaked out I asked him not to. I was genuinely afraid someone would smell the smoke and we would be found. He refrained. We stayed put for at least another 5 minutes just to erase any possibility the Sheriff was still there. Kevin crept around the corner to see if the coast was clear. It was and we continued north on route 5 in the dark, in the rain; fugitives. (Fugitives may be a strong word, but it sure felt like we were!)

Kevin had been traveling quite differently than I. He was less on an adventure and more on a trek to his girl. He was traveling any way he could. Thumbing it, walking, a bus here and there. He had lost his cell phone and ID when he was in Seattle so even when he had money he couldn't get a bus ticket without an ID. He was a true transient, he stayed in shelters when he had to and when it was possible to camp, he would figure out some way to create shelter with his 10x12 brown tarp. His first choice, though, would be a bridge.

With my trusty iPhone I located a bridge about 6 miles up the road near the next town. That was our goal for the night. My pack most of the time weighed around 70 pounds depending how much water I was currently carrying and I knew six miles was going to be tough, but maybe doable. The rain had let up a wee bit, but everything was still wet. We took brakes about every half hour trying to pace ourselves. Around mile 3 I was done. I didn't need a bridge, I was equipped to camp just about anywhere, at any time. I also knew that we would be able to figure something out to keep Kevin sheltered. There was a pause in the rain and some woods across the road. I talked Kevin into at least checking it out.

It was pretty thick wood, much brush; wet brush; waist-high wet weeds. Finding a open enough spot to pitch was a challenge considering the darkness, but with my head lamp or gofer-light as some call it, I was able find a workable location. We had to clear some fallen branches and relocate some hanging vines, but within 20 minutes I was setting up my tent.

When we were back in that motel, I had taken some time to set some things out to dry. This included my rope that I've had since I don't know when. I had draped it over the old TV in the lobby multiple times hoping it would dry out by morning. I bet it's dry, but I'll never know for sure; it's still there. Unless that grumpy old man took it, he probably did and now I can charge him with thievery! HaHA! I'll deal with that later, the point is, that rope would have been really handy to have while we were setting up camp that night, but Kevin came through. He dug through his pack and pulled out a shoe lace and a couple twist ties. We tied up one side of his tarp to two trees behind my tent and then stretched it over my tent and staked down the other two corners where the two front corners of my tent were. Make sense? The picture here was taken half way through tare down the next morning.

Sleep set in shortly after I laid down and I don't think I awoke until the sun did.

Breaking a wet camp is never fun, but sometimes it's gotta be done. We were is an exceptionally poor location to put out our thumbs so we finished the last three miles to the next town. This is wine country. Concord grapes to be exact. Large, plump, and juicy concord grapes lined the road ways. We couldn't resist but to snatch a couple handfuls for breakfast as we made our way to the next town. They were the perfect pick-me-up. Bear Grylls will tell you the toughest part of survival is keeping the mind and emotions healthy. The succulent natural sweetness of those little globes of goodness were so uplifting. They got my mind off the fact that I was only about 5 miles inside New York and had been for what was turning into day three.

We didn't quite make it to the next town, but made our way from route 5, over interstate 90 (where hundreds of people were making their way towards Buffalo without us) and back on to US 20. We were resting/hitching/trying to figure out what to do when a blue utility van stopped at a stop sign across the intersection. I hopelessly threw up my thumb and surprisingly watched his window roll down.

Harley wasn't the most pleasant fellow. Dirty, scruffy, high and the van seemed to be made in his image. The only seats in the van were the driver's and the passenger's and I settled on the tool box with a towel on it. I was sitting next to an ATV that Harley has just cut apart. I was initially fairly nervous, but as I overheard the conversation, I realized that Harley, despite being broke, was very generous. He gave Kevin a big red poncho, he gave us a rope(!) and offered his tarp. We took the rope, but left the tarp. Harley took us about 15 miles up US 20 to Brocton and dropped us at the far side of town at a gas station.

He had gotten us out of the rain, but only for the moment. We took some time to get a little bite to eat and by the time we got back outside, it was pouring. The rain restricted us to the sidewalk just in front of the gas station and not thinking it would work, I wrote “Fredonia” on the sign. It was only the next town up, but Harley said that people around here aren't going very far and would be more likely to pick us up if we tried to go town by town. It was a busy gas station and I thought maybe we would get a ride up the road by someone coming in to get their snacks.

I was so out of it I failed to get their names, but eventually two oversized men in an oversized truck pulled up. One of them went in to get his doughnuts and milk while the other was forced to look at two sopping wet and weary travelers. I caught his eye and with his left index finger, he motioned for me to come to the window. He doubled checked our destination and said we could throw our stuff in the back. They were on their way to work to do whatever it is they do, but they got us closer to where we were going.

They dropped us off in front of a run down auto shop and for now, that's all you get. :) I have to go be a date at a wedding reception for people I don't know!

There is much more to come in regards to this crazy adventure and please keep checking back frequently to see if there's any new stories!

Two Days of Rain and Madness

Wow, this last week has been a doozy! SO much happened, the highs the lows, the good, bad and the downright ugly. One week ago today, October 4th, I left the lovely Van Wingerden home in Oberlin, Ohio and set back on the road. Tonight I find myself in The Huntington House Inn located in quaint Rochester, Vermont drinking a nicely balanced Bombay Sapphire gin and Tonic with a lime. How did I end up in this little Inn in this little village in this relatively little state? Let me tell you a story... :)

Last Monday I had to arise fairly early to meet up with a truck driver for Green Circle Nursery, the business that the Van Wingerdens own. I said my good byes to Tim and Jan Ewing and David drove me over to the offices at 5:40. We met up with my driver, Paul and in no time we were on the road.

Paul was a great guy. For that morning, he wasn't on any time restraints so he had some flexibility in where he could take me. We talked about the route I was looking to take and figured out a good location for him to drop me off. We drove for about 2 hours and talked quite a bit in

between here and there. He was very interested in what I was doing. He said he could never do anything like this; he told me that he would never even think about even picking up a hitchhiker.

He has never been married and told me he never would be married. Curiously, I inquired. He explained to me that it just would never make sense for him. He had no desire to ever be married nor to have kids. He's a brother and an uncle and loves playing with and even having his nieces and nephews stay over with him, but he finds peace in knowing that they will go home eventually. He was a very generous man and was concerned enough for me to make sure he dropped me in a good location. He refused to drop me near the interstate and didn't stop until we reached a Wal-Mart east of Cleveland. It was about 8:30 when he drove away and I had a sense of readiness for anything unknown to come.

I took a few minutes to use the facilities in the 24-hour Wal-Mart and in time, made my thumb visible. I was in small town country now, no big city to aim for so I simply wrote, "East!" on my trusty white-board; and trust me, it's trusty. If it were metal, it would be very rusty by now, but, no, it's stayed resilient to the elements. It's a wee bit scratched up, but all in all, it's road

worthy.

It took about 90 minutes I think before Janice slowed down her life for me. She was just marvelous. She is a beautiful 72 years of age and wore it well. She is full blooded Hungarian as well as full hearted servant of the Lord. She had so many stories to tell. She was divorced years ago from a abusive husband of 16 years with whom she birthed 4 or 5 children (I can't remember exactly). She fervently volunteers at her church and the local elementary school whatever needs to be done. She is a devout Catholic, but understands that even us Protestants serve, love and worship the same God. I think the best word to describe her would be "servant". She told me stories of the days when she would work more hours than considered healthy by anyone's standards just to support her indignant husband and beloved children. Today she doesn't bear the burden of that man, but her children, who are all in their 50's, much off of what she has, which isn't much. She always pays their bills and lets them borrow money knowing that she will never see any return. Janice is a saint when compared to

many other church goers. She drove me over 20 miles out of her way. She dropped me off in front of a Perkin's in Conneaut, OH. She offered to shake my hand and of course I oblidged. She commended me on my strong hand shake and said it was an honor to meet me. She graciously

gave me a twenty dollar bill and she was on her way.

I didn't know it at the time, but I was very close to the Pennsylvania border! It was cloudy, but at least not raining when Janice dropped me off, but as I was putting one foot in front of the other, so the rain starting falling one drop after the other. I was on US 20 which streaks across this entire continent from west to east and back, but unfortunately, this part of this historical road had no shoulder. The shoulder of a road is key when hitchhiking. No shoulder, no where for drivers to pull over. Did I mention it was raining? It was. I was tromping through wet grass on the side of the road, through people's front yards when India passed me a few times and finally found a wee side road to pull into.

I had seen her drive past me once, twice and thrice, but driving a brand new Camaro, for some reason I just thought they were lost. I almost walked right past her until I saw the passenger window roll down. I was in a little bit of shock. She told me that she wasn't going very far, but just couldn't stand watching me walk about in the rain. Thank God for compassion! Camaros are sports cars and ergo have very small trunk space, especially when theres a stroller in the trunk. I had to disassemble my pack a little bit, but we shoved it in there. India was a young mom, like midish twenties and she was the first person to give me a ride that had their baby in the car! She

was a beautiful little red head named Kelsey, I think :/

Anyway, India asked where I was going and after learning about my Journey she offered to take me to Erie, PA. After I informed her that unfortunately it was illegal to hitch in PA, she decided to take me all the way to New York! She had gone into the Army, but never had to go over seas due to her new baby. She told me that she wasn't afraid to pick me up because she was pretty sure she could handle her self. I don't think she was going anywhere really. Looks like she had just gone to the store and had cold milk in the back seat, but that didn't stop her from driving me 50 miles! Totally bypassing the hitchhiker UNfriendly state of Pennsylvania! She dropped me of

in Ripley, NY right on US 20 and I was back into the unknown.

It was only 12:30 in the afternoon so I was pretty sure I could get at least another ride or two. I wrote Buffalo on my sign because I was only about 60 or 70 miles away. I figured somebody would be going up the 20 to Buffalo to avoid the tolls of 90. I was wrong. At least, no one picked me up. I took some time to scope out the area before I started thumbing and decided that if I

didn't get a ride out of there, I would shack up in the creepy abandoned motel near by. Yeah, it was still raining. A few cold and wet hours later I called it quits and nervously checked out the motel.

It is called the Colonial Squire Motel and the most recent news paper in the place I could find was from January of 2002. I located a potential entry point, but it took me a long time to muster up the courage to investigate the innards of this mysterious structure. There was a window that was slightly opened to allow a power cord to go into the building. Just barely enough room between the window and the frame to squeeze my arm in and unwind the handle to open the window. I was armed with my head lamp and fixed blade knife in hand and I made my way in.

Everything was really dusty. It seemed like there hadn't been anyone there for years. I had left

my stuff outside hidden by the overgrown landscaping so I took my time to see if I could make use of the place. Remember, it was raining so staying somewhere with a roof looked really appetizing. All I had access to was the lobby, so no bed, but it was dry in there. There were tables and chairs and it looked like whoever it was, left in a hurry. I have to admit, I was pretty freaked out. There was space on the floor where I could sleep and plenty of room to make myself right at home.

I found another window that I could use as a main entry and exit that was more hidden than the first. I took some time to nervously journal and cook some Quinoa for dinner and considering my early start, I hit the hay around eight o'clock.

I can't say I had the best sleep I've ever had, but I woke up alive and safe and ready for day two in New York. It was still raining; light enough for me to be out there, but nonetheless, it was still wet. I went out to the same corner I was at the day prior hoping to catch any traffic heading east on 20 or 90. They run parallel throughout New York and at this point they were only about a half mile apart.

I had been out there for a couple hours with no luck when I turned to my right to look behind me and noticed a fellow traveler coming up the road towards me. He had a backpack and his head was covered with his hood. I kept on doing what I was doing and he approached me with a humble hello. The initial conversation was short. We found out that we were both heading east and that we had both started on the Pacific side of the country. He started in Seattle. After some small talk and stories I introduced myself and found his name to be Kevin. I know you will read this Kevin, but I also know that you're not afraid to be real and I need you to know that I want to shed a little light on your hard fought story. We shared a little life together and it has become apparent to me that your story is one worth sharing. But first, let's return to that conrner of US 20 and Shortman Dr.

Kevin and I talked for a while trying to get a ride, but by 2 o'clock were soaked to the bone and ready for shelter. I had told him about the motel and we retreated the elements into the dryness of an old lobby. He explored the place more than I was willing to, including the deep, dark and mysterious basement. He found running water. Rain water. Remember the power cord that caused that window to be open so I could get in? Weill that cord was going to a pump to keep the place from flooding. The water was good and clear and I was able to use my water purifier to pump some good drinking and cooking water.

Kevin read his book for a while and cooked dinner before he retired for bed as early as 6 o'clock. I stayed up journaled for a while, cooked dinner and was getting ready for bed around 7. Around that time, I heard some banging somewhere around the building, like somebody was trying to open a door, but didn't think anything of it. Well, actually, I froze and listened for any other sign of life. I didn't hear anything for a few minutes so I stepped out the window I claimed as our main exit to relieve myself. As I was stepping back inside, across the room looking in through a back door was a man! I crouched right there by the window trying to helplessly hide behind an end table. The room couldn't have been more than 15x15 so I was sure he was going to see me, after all, I was wearing my bright neon green fleece.

I watched him bring his hands up and cup his brow so he could see in better. I wasn't even breathing at this point. Just waiting for him to see me. Kevin was in the other room, in bed at this point and all of out stuff was all over the place. I could tell he was doing his best to make out whatever shapes he could see inside the room, but was having trouble. He had glasses and the prescription must have been way off because he failed to see me or any of our stuff! I was relieved, but didn't think this was over.

The man disappeared around the side of the building and I took the opportunity to alert Kevin. I was freaking out. We were straight up trespassing, which as you know, is punishable by law. Yeah, this got heavy, real fast. Kevin and I were peering out the windows to see if the old man was still around. He was. I had taken time to close our entry window and that's where he came next. Kevin was standing right in the middle of the room and I was sure he was going to be seen. The old guy was like only 7 feet away! Granted, it was getting dark, but still, this guy was really blind. He came around to the front window and we didn't move. He was staring in, looking straight at Kevin, but still not seeing him! For a second there, I saw I glimmer of hope that all this would blow over.

Kevin slightly and slowly turned his head left to look at me and that's when we heard him yell, "Hey! Private property! Get out!" We tried to console the man by assuring him we were leaving and to just give us a couple minutes, but no, within seconds, he was on his phone dialing the local sheriff. It was at this point was kicked it into high gear.

Remember, I had stuff all over the place. I figured the night before was so uneventful that everything would be fine. It took Kevin only a few minutes to pack up while he was ready I was still shoving items into my backpack, not really caring what it was or where it went.

It was still raining. I finally got all my stuff packed up, at least I thought so and we were out that window! The grumpy old man had gone back to big Dodge Ram on the road and we decided to go the opposite way up over 90 towards Route 5. The wind was whipping the rain at about a 45 degree in gusts so we took some shelter behind another abandoned building. Well, to avoid the rain as well as the 2 patrol cars roaming around! :)

We stayed put for a little while. Knowing that we were being searched for. At this point, I was really glad to have Kevin with me. Let's just say he's got more experience with the law than I.

We were taking some time to be out from the open when we saw headlights shine up on the bushes just 30 feet to our right. The sound of a door opening. Someone was shining a flashlight in the near by bushes. We could tell they were looking for a could hoodlums. We were frozen.

And, my time is up. I have to stop writing :) perfect timing though, right!?

A lot more happened this week like camping near Buffalo International Airport, staying at a frat house at Syracuse University and meeting up with new found family.

As of now, I'm only 189 miles from my goal and stoked! Tomorrow the people that I'm staying with, the son and daughter-in-law of a aunt and uncle of cousin-in-law are taking me out to Lebanon, NH and I will be that much closer!

Hopefully the next time I blog, I'll be in Portland!

Love you all! Cheers!