"The world does not reward honesty and independence, it rewards obedience and service. It’s a world of concentrated power, and those who have power are not going to reward people who question that power."-Chomsky

"The trouble with self-delusion, either in a person or a society, is that reality doesn't care what anybody believes, or what story they put out. Reality doesn't "spin." Reality does not have a self-image problem. Reality does not yield its workings to self-esteem management." -J.H. Kunstler

"You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows."-Dylan

Wednesday, April 29, 2009

4/29/09: Seaville, NJ

I got a good night's sleep, and awoke refreshed & in much better spirits. The weather, however, had gone toward Hell. We knew the happy days of sweaty sun were behind us for a bit, and had actually expected it to rain overnight, but it had held off, being windy and cool as we broke camp in the reeds.

The first order of business was breakfast at Dock Mike's cafe, which is right on Cape May harbor. I had a spinach omelet, and chuckled to myself when I realized that, judging by one of the barnacles, it appeared Popeye himself had dropped anchor outside.

The omelet and multiple cups of coffee were fantastic, and so was our waitress Dottie. She kept the coffee coming as Chris and I discussed things, including my mental menstruation of the day before. It seemed after some reflection that we were entering a new phase, and not just New Jersey. The methodology had been handled. Now, perhaps, it would be money and, most importantly, how to generate it.

Just before 11, we left Dock Mike's fully fed and with the literal and figurative batteries charged. 
The weather had become decidedly wetter during our visit with Dottie, with 40- 50 mph gusts off the Atlantic. The temps were now in the low 50s, which felt like 20 after getting used to low 90's. I began to seriously question the wisdom of mailing the seemingly extra coat home the day before, as I would have now used it beneath my rain jacket.

We elected not to walk the mile into town for the library, instead walking back over the bridge to try for a ride toward Atlantic City & New York. Again. We were there perhaps an hour, having a grand time in all our inept glory, when a state cop pulled over and politely asked what we were doing. With my cynicism toward police still festering, I just assumed he was either a) a smartass or b) a nimrod; neither being good breeding traits in lawdogs. He was polite, and never asked for ID, even after he told me, half-smiling, that we couldn't hitchhike anywhere in New Jersey. It was illegal in the entire state.

Well... shit.

He did happen to have a NJ Transit schedule in his seat-sack of piggie treats, so we took one, quickly agreed that Cape May held no further treasures, and that taking a $4.75 bus to Atlantic City would be a good idea. We walked BACK over the damn bridge for the last time and made our rain soaked way downtown to the bus station, getting there ten minutes before it left.

I spent the ride north just writing. Just as I had finished, we discovered that the next stop was a Parkway Service Center/commuter Park 'n Ride. Since I had kept my head buried in Pocketmail, I assumed we were close to A.C., and before we knew it, we had made an almost unconscious decision to get off right there and skip the Adventures of Atlantic City. This seemed to amuse the driver, who pointed out that we had paid all the way to AC. Only later would I realize we were barely half way there. Behold! Fiscal genius at work.

The service center was at least pathetic, and perhaps even toxic. The restroom/ Roy Rogers area closed at six, and there was next to no traffic. But, there was an Information Center where we decided, finally, to get a map. But only because it was free. I find it slightly amusing and mildly troubling that I will spend money on cigarettes, but not a fucking map. Something is possibly askew...

After an hour or two, and using our trusty (sort of) new map, Magellan realized that US-9 was just west of us, running next to the Parkway an open field away. By now, it was getting late and cold. The plan: get on route 9, find a spot, have a hot meal, get a good start on Thursday. For once a plan went as planned.

After eating and setting up camp, I did get a surprise call from Ken saying that he was headed from Miami, thru New York City, and all the way to Boston, via I-95. We could ride the rest of the way with him if we got to the interstate. That would save Chris's mom a trip, and be neat to get the three of us together. It didn't seem completely out of the realm of possibility that we may possibly get there the next day, and gave us something to strive for on Thursday...