Thursday, October 28, 2010
Slowly Going the Way of the Buffalo
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.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Slowly but [kind of] Surely...
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!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Town to Town
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!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Two Days of Rain and Madness
Sunday, October 3, 2010
A difference in distance.
After a delicious lunch and a few back flips on the trampoline, Jeremy drove me out on hwy 72 into Kalkaska, MI. We said our "see ya laters" and they were on their way back home and I was back on the road.
I set up shop right on the west side of town and not 30 minutes later an officer pulled up and said I couldn't hitch on any MI interstates or county roads. Not true, but I wasn't going to argue. I don't think reciting law back to an officer would go over very well, so I picked up and started walking towards town. He said I could be in town, but if someone called in on me, we could have issues. Good thing I'm not scary looking.
I got to the other end of town about 45 minutes later, only a couple miles, but that was long enough. I was pretty frustrated because I wasn't sure where I could be and where I couldn't, but at one point as I was crossing a street a guy trotted after me from his car at the gas station and handed me a twenty dollar bill. Out of no where. He said it was for my Journey and he was sorry he wasn't going my direction. It was perfect timing for a good encouragement. Not too much further down the sidewalk, I spotted a good place. I've learned that if there's a shoulder, the far side of the intersection at a stop light can produce a ride fairly well. People are stopped and almost forced to look at me for at least 30 seconds.
I was there for, mmm, maybe 2 hours and I could see the light fading. Before Rob came around, I had two other offers! Both of them cars full of girls! The first one was a couple girls near my age, but they weren't really sure what roads they were taking and they didn't even know where I75 was, so I passed. After consulting my trusty map, it was a good decision. about 20 minutes later a car of three high school girls, maybe 17 yrs., rolled up. They weren't going anywhere, but just wanted to give me a ride. I asked if they
About maybe an hour after all that, Rob rolled up in his big GMC truck. No hesitation, he knew he was gunna pick me up before he even got to me. I think it's because he could see me from the stop light ;) He insisted I put my pack behind the passenger seat because he had a bike in the bed; I knew this was going to be a fun ride.
Turns out he's a tri-athlete and a dentist. We talked about travel, he asked about my trip and we talked about different adventures we'd been on. We stopped for ice cream; I ordered a small cone, but he told the girl to get me a medium. Later down the road he bought me some dinner. As we got closer to his destination, we began to figure out where he could drop me off for the night, but soon enough, his destination of home became my destination as well. I mention that both my upper front teeth are crowns and that it hurts to floss them more than any other tooth so he said he would have me come in the office the next day so he could take a look.
We arrived at his house and immediately Jill, his wife had food in front of me. It was a wonderful, super healthy chicken soup deal. Very tasty. She also was very curious about my trip and couldn't stop asking questions. I love talking about my trip with people and seeing their reactions. This family seemed very genuine even after just meeting them so "randomly".
The next morning we were off to the dentist office at 9:30. On the way I told Jill that I didn't even have dental insurance let alone enough money to pay for anything. She assured me that this was a gift. "He just does this sometimes and now he's chosen you" she said. We talked about how God's providence is simply undeniable when we pay attention to what goes on around us. He is so good.
