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
