X-Pod #009: The Great Transition-A Prologue

Two in a week! Rejoice! Todd talks about Britany Maynard, mirroring, the importance of sharing your struggle, then offers up some of his own in detailing his 4-year battle against fear before hitting the road.

4/3/08: Reaping the Carnie Harvest

** If read after the previous post, you'll notice an element of redundancy here. However, this is a monumental entry. I took the previous entry and expanded on many of the most significant ideas: constructive writing at its best. Many of these conclusions will sound VERY familiar to regular followers! **- tzx 1/26/10

Time to process. Back from Texas and Louisiana early yesterday morning. I was gone exactly 2 weeks and an eventful packed two weeks it was. I was pretty good about writing while I was gone and wrote 12-pages in the travel journal yesterday alone, wrapping up the last weekend and the events that sent me back so soon. I won't rehash everything here, but I do need to get some ideas straight.

There are some great things that happened. I met some terrific people and more than my other trips, stuck things out and learned so much about who I have become. Perspective? Frame of reference? Call it what you want, but seeing how I am around these folks as a way of comparison to how I was -- is significant. I was a leader. Able to offer guidance and, most surprisingly, I seemed to attract people. At least certain types. Those who, like me, seem to be searching for something intangible. And the fiercely independent.

Obvious examples are Jimmy and Steve. They were two people who like me refused to just "accept" what was going on with the drug-culture in camp. Steve more so than Jimmy, although he too abhorred drugs. Steve was a guy who I really identified with; Jimmy too, but he initially seemed to come along for the ride -- an afterthought while in Odessa. I admired Steve's independence, and he reflected mine. I still regret what happened with him, although it may have been best. With all the drama in Louisiana -- he may have combusted. I've still not talked to him since we separated at the Dallas bus station, and have a nagging feeling I won't.

Jimmy turned out to be a bit of a Jekyll/Hyde. He had three distinct personalities. Wise, disconnected, drunk. The trip from Odessa to New Orleans was enjoyable, and the Easter Sunday we three spent next to the Mississippi was -- magical. Such peace, serenity -- authenticity. At that moment, I literally thought I was already on my trip! If I had chosen, I could have been. I was ready to leave that day, and I wanted the three of us to make our way out, hoping to repeat the feelings we had that day-- everyday. I'll never forget that. It's something that set a tone for me, and I'm afraid that I've let that fade a bit.

Yet, as special as that day was, it was its negativity that set the lasting metaphor for what was to come. Something beautiful and pure destroyed by its environment; the negativity. Tricia and I both noticed it when we left the levee, crossed the road, and reentered camp: the magic vanished. More than vanished. It was replaced in kind by something black. As good as it was by the river, it was equally as bad in camp. That, for the most part, never ended and I saw it to the extreme that last day with the kitten.

Tricia could never break free from it. She's used to it, and doesn't know how to exist outside of it.

James? It led him to just drink to try to figure it out. He was like me, though -- experiencing everything and trying to solve it.

Jimmy? I'm not sure. He wasn't the same after that Sunday -- although there were glimpses. He seemed to disengage. Maybe he felt what I did, and that was his way of protecting himself from it? But, from what I saw that last Monday, then heard on the phone from James last night, he's not dealing -- but drinking. I couldn't communicate with him before I left on Monday due to the whiskey, although I could tell he was upset I was leaving. It came on so quickly -- no advance warning -- even to myself. I hope he's okay and things go well for him, but I'm unconvinced that they will. He has demons I can't comprehend. Jimmy's a vast resource of wisdom, but also an obvious alcoholic. I could go no further with him, and hypocritical or not, couldn't deal with him drunk. That friendship could've gone a great deal further, but as it turned out, we were "like minds running parallel for a while." I gave him my number and hope I hear from him again. I'm pretty sure I won't. I wish him well.

Tricia was frustrating. But, I was naive. I found something beautiful in her on Easter, but never saw it on full display again. I'd see glimpses, as with Jimmy, but she'd always revert back to her comfortable perch. We would have long conversations and I would try to offer insights from my own experience, sincerely trying to help but eventually I came to a significant conclusion; one that's elementary and one that's plagued me:

***Taking your opportunities and doing something with them. Having a willingness to act; do a bit more than complaining. I equate it to a combination of following The Voice and freewill. The Voice only guides; it's up to you to do something with it. Waiting for passive enlightenment? You'll wait forever. Enlightenment is like wisdom v. knowledge (Thamus). You achieve enlightenment ONLY through action and experience; masturbation-- mental or otherwise-- conceives nothing. Enlightenment doesn't come via writing, talking, reading...these things offer tools to guide you to action, but without action they're nothing but nice ideas. Pretty, clever, contrived words. Words without action are like an owner's manual without a car. What are you supposed to do? Pretend you're driving? Action and experience are infinitely more important than idle words. My ideas served me well on this trip. Very well. Yet, without the action aspect of learning ? I'd still be sitting here...wondering.***

I saw this unwillingness to act in Tricia, and got to the point were I concluded it was hopeless. She didn't want to do what it took to live in that "energy" we found by the levee that day; she didn't believe she could. Maybe a seed was planted, and maybe someday she will. She's one of the few, yet still significant percentage who are...I'll no longer call it enlightened..."touched?" They just feel it, and can access it when the environment is right. I believe Steve is touched. Jimmy. James. I was gone for 14 days, and found four in the first four days! Any of which could have shared my experience; in fact they were.

These are the people I seek and keep finding, and what's more: they respond. To be honest, I wasn't exactly prepared for that! I thought that this may likely be a lonely journey. Finding as many as I did, coupled with some heightened sense of confidence, boldness, even courage...I felt like a pillar of strength for once, as arrogant as that sounds. Teflon. I was content to, even enjoyed, sitting alone rather than subjugating myself to those who either expected subjugation or I didn't respect.

And the honesty! Timmy was a great example. I told him, bluntly, that I neither liked nor wanted to hang out with him. I did so on his prompting and in front of his people. I walked it. He had no clue what to say, do, or how to handle me because I wasn't to be "handled." I haven't quite put it all together, but I've found something. Tapped into it. I need to build on it; be unafraid to blaze that trail, alone if necessary.That's what I really gained from this. Knowing my ideas or solid, they apply to masses; the experience as a whole gave me this. Not philosophizing. Experience: McCandless's "essence of life." I wonder what this experience would've been in a positive environment? One in which the beauty in life wasn't squashed by overwhelming negativity.The insights would have been skewed. Likely, it all happened as it should.

I became overwhelmed when the trailer dropped on the kitten. That devastated me. I had known for a few days that my time there was ending, but had resolved to try to last through Baton Rouge. I was thrilled to find that kitten scampering around, and got lost playing with her. She was a very sweet cat that loved people and brought in the first real, pure joy and beauty since the river. I was happy, tuned in and reminded of home and my own cats.

Then out of nowhere, the Kraken strikes. Suddenly I saw her pinned beneath the trailer, crying horrifically, then running as though her back was broken. I still can't describe what I felt. Horror. I couldn't cope with that. In some odd way, it was like seeing Gage hit by the truck in Pet Semetery. When I heard the others running-fugitive rather than helping, and worrying more about how Dave would react rather than trying to help his pet survive, I became sickened, disgusted, and had to get away from there. When Chris said, "It's time to snap its neck" I wanted to snap his. I was literally frightened of myself. Are these fucking people human? My conclusion: no.

Once I announced I was leaving, Jimmy said, if I left. I'd be "in danger." Of course, he was lit up. Tricia also said she had a "bad feeling" too, but couldn't explain it. I think they were feeling their own premonitions. James called last night and told me that Jimmy has been drunk since I left and was "pissing people off." I felt a bit uneasy about the decision until we are on the way to Greyhound and it occurred that the cat was a powerful metaphor. It may not have been just that, but it brought home the vision of everything pure, and beautiful being crushed. Tricia, The River, Jimmy, James... I tried to convey the thought but failed miserably.

With this, I knew I was making the right choice. I was touched by the fact that Tricia, James, Toby, Chris, and Gabby all rode with me to Greyhound. The ride was a bit odd, and departure anti-climatic. Tricia was upset that I didn't give her my number, but something told me not to. I really do not want her drama following me, especially when she refuses to handle it herself.

The bus home was a mixed bag. Of course, the vision and feelings about the cat were there, but also some good feelings about my personal revelations. The strongest feelings, and they still linger today, were about the cat. I see her happy eyes, hear her purr, see her playing...jumping at that damn stick. Then I see that trailer crushing her. I see her running cockeyed. I see her lying beneath that trailer. I cursed any "God" who would let something like that happen. I still can't reconcile it. I know it was an accident; a terrible one, but I hate it to my core. I don't even remember anything affecting me like that on 9/11! What does that say?!? It's because of the cat's innocence; its joy. It's since become obvious that perhaps I should consider getting involved rescuing... cats? Duh! I love the things for whatever reason, and always have.

I can also say that after Texas & Louisiana, I appreciate the tranquility here much more. "He wants his home and security... he wants to live like a sailor and sea." Since returning, I've been questioning the hiking trip--that's not good. It's going to rear its head again sooner or later. I feel as though I'm a short step from being able to settle down a bit and I hate what leaving does to Laina, even though I can't help it: the alternative is no option. I'm not in a place to parse-then-expand that thought just yet, but rest assured the next few pages should be good readin'. I feel at ease here, and know things are about to change for the better -- one way or another.

I'm supposed to know something from Michigan [job] in the next week or so, and the weather is warming up nicely. I don't know exactly what's going to happen, but this year's adventures have probably only just begun. [there's an understatement!] The bus trip, other than the image-induced mental torture, was pretty uneventful. I met an interesting guy from Texas named Dan. He's 57 and spent 20 years as a cop. He reminded me of Clint Hurdle. Dan seems to be a typical Texas conservative; voted Bush twice! Yet -- amazingly our views were similar. We spent the two or three hours from Dallas to Wichita Falls chatting about life, politics, and the coming economic disaster. My "impending doom." I really enjoyed the conversation; it solidified to me that truth owes no ideology. Is bound by no doctrine. I was glad to have had that talk, and again felt better about my experience and my ideas.

Yet again -- an example of testing ideas through experience. Maybe I have indeed finally turned that page? Idea v. Experience. Is it knowledge to wisdom? Or, simply data to knowledge?

This was far different from my other little expeditions. I'm now not exactly sure how to approach the next phase, but considering I've written almost 7-pages on this, and have come out of this feeling much better, it would seem silly to stop now. The job in Michigan won't last long. Long enough to take care of things: gear up, and depart.

I must do this. If I don't, I'll never find peace. It may indeed kill me, but if it does rest assured it's better than living with the turmoil and sense of dissatisfaction. If I come out the other side, and do it right, I may indeed be able to focus on a family. If I don't do this? I don't believe, even despite this current state of calm, that anyone will ever be able to rely on me. I can't help that, therefore I refuse to beat myself up for it. It simply must happen.

I'm seeking that "peace of the river." Calm. The inner tranquility that comes from acceptance of myself and my life. The beauty and purity of the cat. I have all of these elements in this house, and I know it. Yet -- I need inner peace to be able to be that kind of entity myself. I'm getting closer, and may have just taken a nice jump in the right direction.

We'll see...

4/2/08: Baton Rouge-The Cat

Saturday was a rather long, boring day. We started at noon and ran rides all day, until 10 pm. We were up late Friday drinking beer and chatting with Tricia, Toby, Andy, and James. We all seemed to relish the idea that there was no drama to deal with. It was a nice night. I finally got to bed around 3:30 or so.

The 10:00 close was a bit of a surprise, but really no big deal. The crowd was sketchy, but picked up toward the evening because of some on/off rain earlier. I got to bed early both because I was tired and Sunday was tear-down day, after we had already worked all day. The worst day of every week. The Carnie life is indeed for me...

Sunday was interesting. I was ready to leave then. I woke up ornery and fed-up. I called Laina, Brian, and Joey and tried to get as much info as I could. I found that I am still supposedly "on track" for the job in Michigan. Laina and I decided, in a roundabout way, that I would try to stick out another week, since Monday through Wednesday would be easy -- with the exception of set up in Baton Rouge. I also discussed possibly getting my little group together -- Toby, Gabby, Jimmy, James, and Tricia -- to join a group out in California. That sounded good, but the idea in the end went nowhere.

Tear down was long, hard, frustrating...and encouraging. Reminded me of my boot camp days: working through exhaustion. Jimmy, Andy, and I tore down the Merry-Go-Round in five hours or so...then had to help other slackers...despite the fact that ours was by far the hardest and most complicated of any of them. We finally finished around 3 am. I went straight to bed, but as tired as I was, had trouble getting to sleep. My body seemed to hold up well, although I was definitely sore.

We all slept in Monday, bummed around for a few hours, then finally got the bunkhouses prepped and jumped from Ethel to south Baton Rouge -- about an hour down the road. I was still envisioning at least getting through the week, but the first seed to leave was planted when I got "paid" before we left Ethel. I got a whopping $126. I had taken $75 in "draws," was charged $25 for my shirt, and taxed $60. It could have been worse I guess, and had no real logical complaints about the pay, until I thought about the hours put in to get it!

There was a touch of drama Sunday with Willie after hearing a rumor that we were "renting" our bunkhouses; twinges of Odessa. He and I resolved it quickly, it was just typical camp bullshit. I also addressed my problems with Timmy and discovered he was, in Willie's words, an "errand boy" despite his claims to be a "supervisor". More shrapnel to throw at him. I never liked Timmy because of his mouth and underhanded nature and, despite his posturing as someone important, I never had a problem telling him so. No one else dared to force his hand, and he just couldn't figure that out; he never knew how to approach me. More on that in a bit.

I discovered a lot about myself by way of perspective. How far I've really come, and how I can influence people and have impact when I'm focused. I'm not so diluted to say that influence was significant, but I noticed that people here gravitated to me -- despite my perceived "rudeness!" Much more needs to be processed in my other journal. Not the time yet.

I really enjoyed my conversations with Jimmy when he was sober, although after we got to Ethel, he seemed to disconnect. James and I seemed to connect well also, and had some deep, philosophical conversations. Amazing to find a guy with a biology degree in that setting. He was the most like me, admitted to alcohol problems and is, or least was, guarded. I'd be interested to see what happens with him.

Monday was a day that was disturbing for lack of a better term today. It rattled me, and exposed a raw nerve.

We got to Baton Rouge, and of course things were typically dragging along. Trouble getting the electricity and water going so people were going to the stores, sitting around, killing time. Typical. I didn't like the vibe from the start. Not something I can explain, but we were adjacent to the projects, set up the dirt, and other crews were showing up periodically.

A guy named Dave, who was at Winter Quarters in New Orleans was here and had brought his two young cats with him. I was very happy to see them running around! It was something nice, pure, and real in what was a toxic environment thriving on negativity. I started playing with one of them, a very energetic and friendly calico who loved playing with a stick I had found. The other one was a dark gray with tinges of orange and, like the calico, had his tail clipped. This gray was skittish, but was warming up to me when one of the most horrible and disturbing things I have ever seen happened. It pains me to think, let alone write, about it and -- I hate repeating myself -- still disturbs me whenever I even think about it.

The kittens had taken a break, and I was sitting against a chain-link fence chatting. When James sat down on the lemonade trailer in front of me. The trailer wasn't on blocks, and when someone sat on the back edge it would tip on its wheels -- and hit the ground. The calico kitten was underneath and the trailer's rear edge -- loaded with the lemonade stand -- landed flush across her back/mid-section.I heard her howl, people yell, then lifted the trailer. The kitten took off running, but not... running. She could not coordinate her front and back legs and ran with her rear legs cockeyed; nearly 45-degrees to one side. She seemed at first as though her back was broken.

I'd never felt what I felt at that moment. I couldn't deal with it. I remember yelling, "God fucking dammit!" and, "No! No! No!" I felt it in my lungs, stomach; all through my body. I don't even know what "it" was. It was just something I...couldn't handle. I was just playing with her, getting attached, and enjoying something...pure. Then, that place almost literally killed it. It was the same blackness as Easter Sunday by the river: it seemed to have a way of brutally destroying anything positive.

I pulled myself together and found the cat lying beneath the lemonade stand's trailer having difficulty breathing... and crying. Then came what finally drove me out of this place. People running away like children! They acted as if they were kids who busted the neighbor's window! "Let's get to the store! Let's get out of here! We didn't see anything! He's gonna flip!" When I heard Chris say, "it's time to snap its neck" I about snapped myself. I said nothing because by then it occurred to me that, after seeing her run, she may not have broken her back, but perhaps ribs and needed a vet. When Chris reached to grab her, I told him to "get the fuck away from her" then tried to rally people to get her to a veterinarian. Then, the final straw: Andy bitching about who's going to pay the bill! I forget who, but someone took control, got a milk crate, and got into the van to supposedly find a vet, but it was 6 pm and no one knew anything about Baton Rouge. How were they going to find a vet? They weren't.

That was it.

I called Laina and talk it over with her. What I just seen, the realization of how little money I was able to save -- and the disgust I felt for "these people" after this -- I was leaving. She agreed, checked the schedules, and we decided I would leave on a 12:30 am bus from Baton Rouge that night. I went over to the football field adjacent to camp to talk to Jimmy, who was drinking Jim Beam and already annihilated. I wish he hadn't been. I couldn't talk to him when he was drunk. He tried to talk me out of leaving for his own reasons; had he been sober he would've understood. I talked to Willie right after, and he was very cool about it, giving me $25 for my shirt, but no money for Monday. Not that I did anything anyhow!

I went back to the bunkhouse and started sorting, packing, and since we had just been paid... selling shit. I sold my Merrill hiking shoes to Andy for $20, by old, comfy Nike running shoes for $10, and left some work jeans and other odds and ends for Jimmy. The pack was seven or 8 pounds lighter than what I arrived, and I was glad. As the word spread that I was leaving, people are asking why, but I was unable to really explain it. I just kept saying, "I have to." I would hit on it later, on the way to the Greyhound station. But, at the time, I just wanted out. It was actually a nice two or three hours waiting to leave. It felt good, despite the immediate reasons behind it. I asked Gabby to drive me into Baton Rouge, instead of Timmy, and she agreed. I was beyond grateful, and I'm sure Timmy was, too! Then, James asked if he could go, and of course Tricia came. Toby and Chris too. We left Jimmy behind because he was too obliterated.

The atmosphere in the van was a quieter than I expected, but no one had a lot, or knew what, to say. It occurred to me, as I mentioned, what had happened, or at least how it hit me. The cat was not only a personally perceived tragedy, but a metaphor for the whole place and the energy it attracts. It seemed to kill anything good, gentle, and/or real; allowed nothing positive to thrive. I'm reminded of the day by the river with Tricia and Jimmy. We were all at peace until we crossed that road, and all of that positive energy was instantaneously replaced by something sinister. We even noticed it in the moment and commented on it. We were never able to get around or through it. When I saw the kitten hurt, after bringing some joy into that camp, and my world, for a while -- I couldn't be immersed in it any longer.

When we finally got to the bus station, I was struck that these people had wanted to ride into Baton Rouge, not for the road trip, but to see me off! I was touched by that, particularly because of my history with people over the last few years, but I politely refused to give Tricia my phone number. That upset her great deal. As cruel as it may be, I don't think I want to deal with her. She's a great person who is lost in her mind; lost in her world, and wants to stay there. She's afraid to step out of it. I really don't want the drunken phone calls in the middle of the night, or any of that. I may call her in a week or two to see how she's doing. We'll see. I did however give my number to James, to keep one line of communication open.

The ride out of Baton Rouge was weird. That vision of the cat, and that I later saw her with Patches -- wheezing -- because they couldn't, or wouldn't, try to find a veterinarian, hit me hard.

Then, I started thinking about the friendships I had developed in the two weeks I was gone, and more importantly -- why. Some names to remember: Andy -- the insane, wanted felon. Bob -- the basketball-game guy. Jason -- Timmy's boyfriend, and really a decent guy. Brandi -- the obese, slutty, 18-year-old idiot, who talks like a retarded racist. I never did get ahold of Steve in Oklahoma. May not, but I'd love to know how he's doing.

From Baton Rouge, we went to Houston then Dallas. I met a very interesting guy at the Dallas Greyhound who reminded me a bit of Clint Hurdle, of all people. He was 57, from north-central Texas, and heading to Roswell on business. We talked about many of things, mostly the failing economy, on our ride from Dallas to Wichita Falls. I found it interesting that I could relate to a Texas conservative who spent 20 years as a cop just as well, if not better, than the hippies I have run into! He even shared many of my views on life, technology, sociology, etc.. These ideas are not ideology. I wish I could have spent more time chatting with him. He reminded me of what Jimmy kept saying: "listen to the older folks, heed your elders." I'm glad I met him. His name was Dan.

Not much on the hike again today, but that's not done. In fact, I'm now much more confident about it, and need to see what happens with Michigan.

An interesting experience comes to a close. Glad I did it.

3/28/08: Ethel, LA-Carnie Life

Been gone 10 days already. It's been a week since we all left Odessa. Time has compressed; a lot happens in a short space of time. I feel like I've known Jimmy for six months or a year, and it's only been barely a week. Tricia -- same thing. I feel as though we've run a full two-month cycle in six days. When you're in each others face all day I guess that happens.

I can see how a person could lose track of days, weeks, even months out here. I haven't watched TV or listened to a radio since I left; have no idea what's going on anywhere. This is the world to these folks and it's not a bad way to live once you adapt. I think the trick is finding balance in the sense that you remember: this isn't the world! It is easy to get caught up in the camp drama, which is worse when everyone's idle. Once we start working people get focused on other things and forget, for the moment, all the bullshit.

The mix of people is interesting. Convicts, punks, philosophers, thinkers, feelers, recluses. It's a challenge for many of them to mesh and get along, but although the "dogs bark," they seem to work it out. There really are no leaders, work or otherwise, among this crew; Willie is the foundation and a rock solid one. He's the lighthouse that provides guidance for many of these fragile types who easily stray off course. I learned that he provided dental work for one of them; could never see Charles doing that.

Tuesday's set-up wiped me out! I wasn't feeling great to begin with, and hauling the heavy pieces for the Merry-Go-Round pushed me. My back held up and was nothing more than stiff on Wednesday. We finished setting up Wednesday, tweaked a couple things yesterday, then a much anticipated laundry/Wal-Mart run. I needed socks, Motrin, and some aloe for this vicious sunburn on my neck. After resting up for a bit, we opened at five o'clock yesterday. I was on a kiddie ride: The Berry-Go-Round. It was easy -- even boring. Lotsa single moms to chat with; some even with teeth!

What struck me was the people. Louisiana is a very friendly and polite state. The poverty here is striking, yet the people have an air of both frustration and happiness. Resignation, yet acceptance. That was only one day, of course, and may change. But it's something I repeatedly noticed. The poverty, especially. Kids offering to work, in exchange for free rides! (They got quite a few) Calling me "sir!" It's pretty obvious that this is a huge event out here, as small as our outfit really is. We are situated on the grounds of a church camp that I learned is for the kids "no other churches want." Drugs...whatever. The pastor is a Vietnam vet who seems to view the government the same way I do, and intensely feels social injustice. I immensely enjoyed hearing him talk -- almost rant.

My time here will depend on me. The work is easy most of the time, and I'm adapting more each day. I'm afraid I won't save much money, though, so if the chance at [the supposed job in] Michigan comes, I'll probably take it. I'm in cruise control about the hike since Sunday. It still is the long-term vision. Need to refocus on that...

3/24/08: Ethel, LA-Reflection in a New Mirror

We packed and "jumped" up here this morning/afternoon. We're through Baton Rouge, and in the middle of nowhere. Reminds me a little of Michigan in how green and rural it is, and the actual location reminds me of some of the New Mexico holes-in-the-wall. I guess we'll set up shop here through the weekend, then go back to Baton Rouge for a time.

Nothing much is happening today at all. Willie is most definitely organized and, so far, outside of the pseudo-drama. I can handle this. I'm obviously seeing some places I'd never go otherwise, and there are some good people here. I'm slowly adjusting and getting used to everything and everyone. I've yet to read one page in a week, and plotting what to mail home.

Tricia and I were on the verge; one push away-- from stepping off of here. The Synchronicity aspect of things was a hot topic yesterday, and still is in a way. It occurred to me that the trip I foresaw had already begun. Maybe I won't be going "back." I seem to have found a travel partner or two if things were to start today, but then again we've had a lot of idle time. When things get busy people -- including me -- may revert back to their individual ideas.

Tricia is a bit of a split personality depending on who she's with. Yesterday was incredibly cool, but last night she ran to her gin and there was the carnie redneck again. She doesn't seem to know exactly who she is. Who does at 22? Jimmy's a bit different, and I'm not sure how our story is going to to end. He's 46, smart in a lot of ways, and seemingly a good friend. Yet, yesterday annoyed me. A lot. All day drunks just bug me now. I'm sick of his "taking care of each other" line, which equates to me buying his shit, giving him cigarettes, and then having his sloppy, drunken ass spill beer on me!

Karma's paying me back. The bitch.

I'm not sure what to make of this part of my personality. It's quite surprising, and I don't like the hypocritical and judgmental tendencies. I've found new things about myself; some very good. I have discipline all of the sudden. And, I seem to be pretty focused and anxious to start my trip. I've been more open and honest with people than I remember...with the exception of Skippy. That honesty is at times a blunt hammer. I've gotten quite terse with Jimmy over the last two days and my impatience and temper with the Killer Queens needs checking. I'm sick of Timmy's posturing displays, and it's obvious that despite the bark, he'll cower at a challenging growl. We're about to find out. Yet, I seem to have settled in here for the near future. I need money. I've found a few good people, even heard from Steve today. This may be home for little while.

3/23/08: A New Orleans Easter-Jimmy & Trisha

**It's poorly articulated here, but this would turn out to be one of those monumental days that resound and echo indefinitely.**

Well...things here are different! Jimmy and I got what we were looking for: a change from Odessa, and we got it for sure!

This outfit is much smaller and much less...intense...then Texas. We got into New Orleans on-time, called Willie from the bus station, he then sent two guys to pick us up. The vibe was instantly better. Much more positive. We both had a great feeling about this decision and were quite happy to get here. We chatted with Willie in person on Saturday, and since today is Easter and his family is here, haven't really seen him since.

We all seemed to get along well last night and met some pretty good people, one in particular--Tricia. She would seem to be in the same mold as Carrie and Sarah, yet a great deal different. She is exactly the opposite of those two in almost every way! She's from Little Rock, Arkansas and just a good ol' girl. Yet, she's also tuned in. She "gets it"--doesn't realize it--yet she does. She's aware and trying to process and define what she's aware of. Been there. She wants to travel; suffers from that same affliction I do. She's frustrated and seems ready to do something about it. It was odd when I first got here; we were immediately drawn (not physically...pervert) to each other. It's like there is an internal guide pointing out the right people and the situations in which to find them. My mystical senses are returning to a degree; paying attention to these "coincidences." Steve, Jim, Tricia. I thoroughly enjoyed this trip so far, for the most part.

There are some twisted, ironic, some would say comical shades McComb [MS, 2005, following Katrina] here in relation to my friendship with Trish. The gay guys here are pissed off! And, so are the straight ones! The gay guys are gnarled up because they viewed me as their "fresh fish!" Of course, the breeders are pissed off because they've been trying to get on Tricia since she first got here and now she's begun to use me as sort of a shield! I find it hilarious! There are rumors etc. already; it's pretty pathetic and drives me up the wall.

I'm getting in tune with myself too, I'm aware of my reactions to all of this. My mindset is slowly adapting to my surroundings and my tolerance level is sinking. I have become more aware of who I am and how that differs from past experiences. My personality also seems to be changing more & more as I adapt. I've become more honest, much more open with some people, and seem to have developed some bizarre leadership qualities from my experiences over the past few years. I don't bother with the idiots, charlatans, posers and punks. I blatantly disengage from them and gravitate back to the ones that posses some kind of character and honesty; and I don't care about hurting feelings in the process. I'm looking for "my people" and not really bothering with the rest.

I feel myself becoming more a more direct. For example, Jimmy drank pretty much all day [after the levee experience-below], and it bothered me. Not that he drank, but that he drank and was trying to communicate. I can't hold any of that against him, but it's a mirror of myself from not so long ago. I can't stand being sober and dealing with drunks anymore. In fact, it's been a long time since I could, but now I have next to no tolerance. I'm doing to some people what Danny, Dyson, Jason, Greg, and others did to me: judging. I don't really like that, but it's happening. Tricia got lit up tonight and was passed out by 7:30. After the day we had, it was a study in extremes and bothered me a bit, although I was more forgiving of her because in the short time I've been here, our friendship has caused her much grief for no reason, and she needed the escape.

I have hardly eaten anything since leaving NM last week; I'd love to get on a scale. I must be in that 165-pound range by now. I've had 2 cups of Ramen Noodles today, and a few M&Ms. I've also discovered how much shit I really do have... and shouldn't. My backpack is 45 pounds, and I need to ship some stuff home. It's rather hard to keep all that shit organized, let alone keep track of it.

Today was an interesting, enlightening, and frustrating day all wrapped into one. Jimmy took Tricia and I across the adjacent road to the levee the banks of the Mississippi River, letting us sit in on one of his Indian rituals where he says he "asks the spirits for guidance." We sat inside of a natural circle depressed into the grass, and just talked and bonded -- just the three of us. Afterwards he said our Indian names were Little Feather and Runs with the Wind. While I sat there playing with a twig, they both looked at me with an odd, astonished look and said I was doing some kind of Indian weave -- something I had never heard of. I really had no idea what I was doing, but just thought it looked cool. We went out there about 9:30 and didn't come back -- didn't leave the circle -- until 3:30. Just talking, lying on the grass in the sun. Had the day ended then, it was one of the best of days. I felt so at peace and comfortable...with both myself and them. It was a tiny taste of that experience I've been craving. No distractions or bullshit obligations. Just me, my people, and out in my place being -- me. It was the closest thing to Nirvana I can probably get, and it occurred to me that I may have already started my adventure. I felt free and unmolested!

Then, as soon as we rejoined the herd, a relative black energy/vibe returned. As soon as we crossed the road! I won't elaborate on more of the drama inside Winter Quarters this Easter Night, but it provided something that, using the first part of the day, could have been a case study in extremes. It got to the point where Trish and I discussed, and even tentatively decided, to leave here tomorrow and "just go." She says she wants to today. She says she wants to go with me when I/we begin my/our trip. But, of course she'd like to work it out so we stay on for a few months to get cash together.

We'd both like Jimmy to be with us if he chooses to, and if today was an anomaly (the drinking). If not, I don't think we will be doing anything together after New Orleans is done. He's a wonderful guy, yet one who's battling something within. He has much to offer, yet also has that self-destructive air about him when he drinks. If both he and Tricia could keep handles on that, I'd be fine and would love for us to keep it together.

The view from here regarding the "backpack trip" is a bit different. I could see the three of us doing it, but believe Jimmy will carry on his way. And Tricia may remain here, or just go home to be near her son in Arkansas. I don't really know. I just feel that I've met some wonderful people in the five short days I've been gone. I feel like I'm on the right course and can see some possibilities. It'll be interesting to see what else develops. So far, this trip's been exactly what I need, and I still find it remarkable that I'm in New Orleans. New Mexico feels remote and far away today. We'll see how it all goes; off to Baton Rouge in the morning.

3/22/08: Escape from Odessa-Jimmy & Steve

Greyhound between Baton Rouge and New Orleans, Louisiana

Long story short: I met two other guys. Jimmy and Steve are both from Oklahoma, and after Steve was pushed for the 5th time to buy cocaine, we called Mike [recruiter] told him what was going on, and requested that he get us out of there. We all decided to ride together to New Orleans and hook up with another outfit with a friend of Mike's named Willie.

I asked direct questions and let those two listen so they could decide for themselves. Mike bought the tickets, we packed up, and while we were waiting Steve's mother called to tell him that his father had died!

Of course, that sent him back to Oklahoma. Steve's a lot like me with the indecisiveness, only worse! And much more tentative. He's just a country boy who's never been away for long, so he was apprehensive. It may have been good for him to come down here and live a little, and he still may. I sensed something familiar in him, and deeply respected his independence. The three of us had a nice synergy, and could have been good friends--all of us. I'm rather surprised at how good of friends we became anyhow. I hope things in New Orleans are as Willie and Mike say they are, and if so, I also hope that Steve comes down here in a couple of weeks.

Jimmy and I are very similar in many ways, although our backgrounds are very different. He's Chickasha Indian and abhors drugs because his son committed suicide while on them. That was the common thread between we three that got us hanging out in the first place. We were the minority who weren't looking to work then simply get fucked up up afterwards--calling that life. Wash-rinse-repeat. One of my goals/hopes was to find some like-minded people I could relate to, and after 2 1/2 days in a traveling drug-den, I found some. That's encouraging.

Jimmy's 46, and has been living a nomadic life for some time now. He's been all over and has tons of experience that he's willing to share. He's respectful, and deserves respect. We talked a lot last night between Odessa and Dallas having much to chat about; our ideas parallel each other in many ways. Like me, he relishes freedom above most everything. We are both cautiously excited about New Orleans and since we have the night off, and a little money, are planning on Bourbon Street later tonight.

To put a bow on the Odessa experience, they did pay us what they owed us, minus $15 for "rent" in the bunkhouse: another monetary surprise. In retrospect it was fitting! Outside of the drug culture, the main theme of that outfit was the fact that they found new and exciting ways, everyday, to surprise you with new ways to shrink your paycheck! "Paying the bus ticket", "security deposit", "key deposit, shirt, etc.... none of which was explained beforehand. Then condescending and indignant when you asked questions. No leadership. People screaming and knife fighting and 5 a.m. outside the bunkhouses. (I was more concerned with the screaming--if someone was cut, eventually they'd at least be quiet) To be fair, it is the stereotype and not completely unexpected; just not for me.

Despite all that, I told Jimmy last night I wouldn't trade it. I did meet some good people, and most importantly I didn't run home, although the thought did occur to me Thursday! I got through it and found that I enjoyed the actual work--when the public's there. I made a little money, and am now having another experience in New Orleans. My spirit through all of this has been remarkably high -- even through the bullshit. I feel in control of my life, and at ease with myself, my surroundings and others. Looking forward. Let's see what happens in New Orleans...

3/21/08: Odessa, TX- Meet the Carnie

Odessa, Texas
Greyhound station

I haven't written in this [travel journal] in 16 months for pretty good reason. It's become something of a relic of this journey, one I don't want to fill with trivial bullshit. I left Santa Fe for the carnie job Tuesday (3/18) and came to Odessa with one idea how things were supposed to be: then the quick reality!

Laina took me to the Albuquerque Greyhound, and I found myself nervous; getting worse the closer to Albuquerque we got. Just as the bus began pulling away, Bob Seger's Roll Me Away came on my MP3 player. That seemed to tell me: "relax; now write your story." Look forward and live it. There was a huge moon, so I could see New Mexico all the way to El Paso and felt legitimately optimistic. Excitement about what was coming, and a shot at freedom. The landscape, moon... all tuning me in--in some ways.

We arrived in Odessa at 10:30 or so, and immediately after I got here with my bunkmate, Dan, it became obvious that either Mike or Charles was simply full of shit; likely both. After being on the bus for 13-hours, Charles put us right to work (doing next to nothing) for three hours. We then got an hour off before the carnival opened--then worked another nine. 13-hours every day--Monday through Friday--then 14 to 15 on Saturday and Sunday. For a base salary of $300 per week. Do the math. Plus there is no time to yourself except with the alcoholics, and druggies etc., who just live to get lit up then wonder why they are broke. Reality meets stereotype! It would have been great living here 15 or 20 years ago, but I'm not living in that spot anymore. Just annoyed the fuck out of me and made me uncomfortable as hell...

**Bus arrived**

12/01/07: FIRED!

*Journal*

November 30, 2007 Friday

Fired! Cut loose! The Santa Fe experiment came to an abrupt end today. What a week! Also, found out for sure that we'll have to put our new kitten down due to FIP, something I'd never heard of. Such a sweet cat too.

Overall, things are pretty positive. Shalain was prepared in some sense, because I told her about the dreams I had been having about getting fired. I wish I could figure them out; these dreams were dead-on. I've had several over the past 10-years that ended up manifesting in reality. Part of me wonders if it is simply self-fulfilling visions, or if they really are premonitions. One way or another, I knew this was coming. Shalain was pretty shocked yesterday when I [told] her. Combined with Pip, not a great week for either of us. It's going to get worse today if we decide to put him down.

12/1/07: I suppose I should recap my feelings from yesterday. First, then try to reconcile where I am today and where I may be going. When Skippy said, "I don't have good news for you." I said, "I know." And when he said, "Today will be your last day with us" I felt a sense of relief! Just like the dreams. As Moonglow [my landlord/friend/future litigant] pointed out: "liberation!" All of a sudden... I saw possibilities. The first of which was K***, and the program Moonglow came up with, "Generations." Also, I felt as though a chain had been removed. The analogy I used yesterday was...like throwing a drowning man a life preserver. All of the accumulated stress just evaporated, and my energy level skyrocketed. After I laughed...Shalain saw how positive I was and I think that helped.

That initial euphoria: What does that say!? I was neither crushed, devastated, nor even shocked; just relieved! I wish I had been writing constantly throughout because it would all be here, but it's obvious now that I failed myself, but NOT by my actions here. I stood by what I believed and was willing to "go down" for it. No, where I've failed was in the weeks and months leading up to the move. I saw, heard, and ignored the warning signs from Isaac and Skippy. Isaac's inconsistencies should have been more disturbing. I love the guy, but he's checked out, and the inability to show how I was going to be working with him should have been a huge red flag. I never planned, nor had aspirations to be Production Director, although I didn't mind that in the end. I wanted to work with, and learn from Isaac on K***. Remember? The other huge warning flag came from Skippy at the [restaurant] just before the move. When he went into his diatribe about "getting the men, getting the women," he sounded like every other despicable salespig I've worked with. I didn't bother to speak out or press on what specifically he was going to "provide to the community."

As time one on, it became clear that he was dragging the same steaming pile of corporate media into town; just simply calling it something else. We all bought into it, and with few exceptions, sensed the same sinking feeling about the same time. All the talk about forgetting Arbitron? Bullshit. That's all Skippy talked about in the last month whenever I tried to chat with him. Chasing a ghost fluttering through a flawed system. Then the offering of renamed "Stock Options"; all the while touting yourself as non-corporate! And, the classic "we're not going to be sales whores" line. HA! I should have known better, and to a degree I did. After the interview, I never bought completely into it, but the phrase remained in my head and bubbled to the resentful surface whenever the foreclosure-profiteering spots [commercials] came up.

Then, Pip. I know that [Skippy] had no way of knowing, but I got him from the Humane Society when they brought him in to the station. They were trying to put a sick cat into a listener's home! Perhaps technically they..aren't required to act on that, but the machine never paused. It was all about the appearance of community service, regardless of the actual level or quality of service. Why am I so surprised and/or disillusioned by this? I should have expected it, but it goes back to the sales pitch we were all given before the sale: "Giving back."

But what?

To whom?

The talk was remarkable, even by salespig standards. Yet the product to this point was sterile typical showbiz variety fluff. The other area in which I've failed was taking on the morning show, and getting involved with Little Miss Sunshine (program director). There is no way I had a prayer of surviving that relationship!. Of course, I had a few arguments with the two slimiest of the salespigs regarding "getting on board." etc., but Little Miss Sunshine was different. I have absolutely no respect for him. None. Our relationship was as toxic than the worst in Kalamazoo, Benton Harbor, or with the Sea Hag in Ft. Walton Beach. We had days or weeks where we'd get along, but what else can come from a relationship where the morning host utterly refuses advice, guidance, or direction from his program director? It's going to fail. It failed.

The one piece that I can't quite reconcile is the conversation a few weeks ago with Skippy, where I tried to quit the morning show and sever my direct dealings with Little Miss Sunshine. He acted like I was shitting on, or quitting the company! Mind-boggling! When he removed me from RFSF, he rationalized that he hired me as Production Director; yet getting off KV** was some huge drama! You would think that I had raped his dog, and he was jealous he didn't get to her first.

So, what now? Hard to say. Moonglow offered to contact KS** in hopes of getting a paying gig there. And, there is always the chance for us to do our own little show. I do know that today, December 1, 2007, corporate media is dead to me. There is no Utopia. There is no commercial outlet that stands for anything. They all tout it, but when you're inside it's all presentation -- image to increase revenues. Now it's time to evaluate while it's still fresh. What I've learned. Where I failed. Where I've made self-destructive mistakes. Am I accurately making distinctions between principled behavior and the self-destructive tendencies? There may be a combination of both at work here. I know that my blatant lack of respect for Little Miss Sunshine is not systemic. Bryant, Tim, Isaac, Ray, Sam, Murph.. No, I despised him because he is perpetuating what's cancerous about the media. He claims to care about the product, yet has no clear ideas about what that product should be. He offers someone elses quotes, tired, failed, or failing quotes and professes wisdom without an ability to create original thought. To be fair, I've recently lost the ability [motivation], once so strong, to be able to articulate my own ideas. I've quit writing, reading (for the most part), and only recently have begun to have meaningful discussions with outside-the-structure thinkers: Moonglow, Ellen, Joe...sort of ...

6/10/07: Santa Fe-Marketed Mirage of an Idea

*Journal*

I'm really fighting some doubt right now. It's centered on the radio station, and considering I haven't even started, I'm annoyed. I can't shake the feeling that I've bound myself into something that's different than what I expected and wanted. I've been exposed to too many business-minded people; talking about "sales & revenue" like they're running a fucking 7-11.

I haven't really looked that hard at why I avoided the [optional, uncompensated] airshift last week. It felt completely foreign... like I wasn't prepared for it. I'm not part of that team yet. I'm still "on-deck"; don't quite feel like I belong there. This is NOT how I envisioned this going! Where's the excitement? Where's the passion? Enthusiasm? Energy? I don't understand why I'm still in such a state of limbo. Am I that far off course? Have I been kidding myself? What exactly will it take for me to engage? Have I been out of radio too long? Am I beyond jaded? Jaded to the point where I can no longer function? "Functioning" is not an option. I must pull myself up and get busy. For better or worse.

I had not expected this. I figured that when I got here I 'd be raging to get going.

Yes, I'm frustrated. Intimidated. Doubting myself...and wondering if I've gotten lost. I have changed a lot since we were in New Mexico before. I see the city [Santa Fe] as a money trap. The marketed mirage of an idea. A mirage that evaporates upon examination into nothing more noble than image-driven commerce. A lack of authenticity. A city of contradictions all concealed beneath a veil of contrived "culture" and "mystique." The energy [I've felt] is still here, but it doesn't emanate from the plaza [or Canyon Rd.]. It's elsewhere, which is why, I think, I wanted to live out here [in Pojoaque].

So, Todd, what is it that's not quite right? I've had the recurring dream: cracking the mic and not being able to finish a sentence. Not being able to communicate effectively. Having no control of my voice, both literally and figuratively. I have to honestly evaluate what it is I hope to "be" here, then decide how to get there. I came to Santa Fe, ultimately, to be part of something authentic. That word again! To integrate with whatever it was that I perceived was organic; a significant step toward singularity. I feel as though whenever I get close to hitting on something, I get yanked back... like I have a intermittent or bad connection.

What's my voice become over the last few years? Dissent is an obvious choice, but my politics and sociology have become muddled over the... months. And, what if I don't mesh with this "community?" I'm not a business person; I'm barely a capitalist anymore!

Let's be realistic: no one there is REALLY doing ANYTHING! I don't need to blow anyone away. I don't know to what preconceived standard I'm holding myself, but it shouldn't be so daunting...

5/11/07: Denver-Red Flags in Santa Fe

2 1/2 months since I've written... on hold waiting for K*** (radio station) to come through. Mentally, I've checked out. I've also started smoking again. Cigars were my undoing. They got to be more and more until I realized that I might as well just smoke. A few mental earthquakes sealed their fate, and I essentially became a regular smoker again about three weeks ago.

Life at [with the Rockies at] Coors Field is stable. I chatted with them about [the move to] Santa Fe right off the bat, and they have no problem with me working all the way up until we leave. The Giants are in town w/ Barry Bonds. He's 10 away from Hank Aaron, and hitting well! Clint Hurdle [won't] pitch to him. How annoying! Two more after tonight [Tim Lincecum's first ML win], then Arizona's in next week. I finally get to see Randy Johnson. I've really enjoyed the ballpark again this year. I attribute it to the fact that I'm not emotionally attached to the job. I know I'm leaving and just want to enjoy it.

... For the next three weeks, my focus is Santa Fe. The ownership plan has changed and the station will now be part of a group rather than a stand-alone. I'm rather disappointed with that. The challenge is trying to figure out how things will go with the new owner [Skippy]. Supposedly, "nothing's going to change" [from the original plan] but we need to begin getting specifics. [The program director] has been strangely ambiguous about how things will shake out. In our discussions, I think I've theoretically held every shift on K***; his preference for me appears to be, of all things, mornings. Apparently they're letting the current host go. I have no idea...it seems a bit odd that he has no clear plan for his station after the purchase.

I don't know what to think or to expect. The initial "high" of moving back to New Mexico is wearing off... The long process [since February] has sapped most of the excitement, but I'm still looking forward to it. I need to begin to get mentally prepared to do radio again...to MOVE again. I'm getting a bit nostalgic about Denver. We've really enjoyed it here. Colorado's a nice place to live!

11/6/06: Bike Tour- An Inevitable End

There are elements of these last two posts that echo and resonate loudly years later. Some things are seared into your consciousness. This period was huge. - tx 12/23/09

*Posted to Crazy Guy on a Bike*

15 miles (24 km) - Total so far: 97 miles (156 km)
My leg of the trip is over.

It's taken me a week to figure out what to do with this journal. It occurred to me that I could delete it, or simply let it fade into the abyss of cyberspace, but I've also noticed that there are very, very few, if any, journals completed after one has 'failed'. Plus, it's a good example to set for others: perfection is NOT required for membership. In the interest of honesty, and hopefully as some sort of a humble service to others who may be contemplating such a trip, I decided that brutal, humble- honesty is the noblest of paths.

So, here's a dose of humility: I never had a prayer!

The first day of the trip was fine, as you may have read. However the next day was a different story on several levels. First: significant 'disconnect'. I began to sense that the trip had morphed into something it wasn't intended to be. Getting lost in the 'how' rather than the 'why'. Over a few months, I had gotten lost on that level to a degree I wasn't even aware of. I wasn't happy with the route, destination, the pace from having another rider, and even the mundane particulars of this particular tour. Something was just wrong! I would have been fine and kept going; adapted and adjusted. However, one we reached Franktown, and turned east on Hwy. 86 there came the hills...

I expected hills. I had lightened my load significantly, and while I knew they'd be difficult, I had SEVERELY overestimated my physical conditioning. The 9 miles between Franktown and Elizabeth felt like it was killing me. Ever since we'd left, I had a consistent pain in my upper back that I had never felt before. Also, an aching left shoulder, numbness in my left hand, headaches, and even an instance of slightly slurred speech. Like a fool, I didn't pay attention to them and simply attributed it to the bike; getting adjusted. I expected it to be hard. More on that in a bit....

We got to Elizabeth, and pulled into a Safeway so Bruno could dry his sleeping bag, and so I could charge my cell phone and video camera Bruno had attached to his handlebar. I went inside, wrote in my journal for a bit, and when we got ready to leave the 'disconnect' was chaffing me to the point where I had to talk it out with Bruno.

We sat there for 3 hours.

The most significant problem, in consideration of this venue, was the fact that this wasn't 'our' trip. It was never intended to be. We had decided independently to do this before we knew each other existed! I decided to try to find someone to come along, and that's how we wound up together. I had said from the beginning that if it wasn't working out for either of us, rather due to pace, personal- preference conflicts, whatever, that we should be willing to shake hands and go our separate ways. It was pretty obvious that my pace was annoying him, and worrying about that was killing mine! There was NO way I could keep his pace. Not even close. Couple that with the physical issues I was feeling and some circumstances at home, the desire needed to take this trip died right there.

I obviously felt guilty. Bruno bussed to Denver to take this leg of the trip with me, and I was quitting after a day and a half! To his credit, he was very understanding and actually supportive. No one was mad, yelling, or arguing. As a matter of fact, a few days later he pointed out that if he hadn't come here, he probably would have ended up back in Montreal, rather than on his way to Mexico. So, in some backwards way, I suppose it was a benefit to him. I obviously found a great partner! We chatted some more than finally decided to find a place to camp for the night, and I made arrangements to have my GF pick me up. Luckily, there's a park/ campground right on the east end of Elizabeth, so we stopped, ate, chatted and I waited for my ride.

The next day, I told my mother what had happened with the pain, headaches, slurred speech, and she scared the shit out of me! Both she and my father have a history of heart disease. She was afraid that the signs I had were either acute 'warning signs', or worse. It had never dawned on me... yes I'm ignorant... that all the pain I felt on that bike was on the left side of my body. She was able, as a former nurse, to point out several things that I hadn't been aware of.

I was on the brink of going to the doctor, but without Bruno's luxury of Socialized Medicine, I've decided to try to handle things myself first. Yes... I'm quitting the cigs. After 20 years, they'll finally be given up, after much struggle I'm sure. I've managed to cut them by about 2/3 with no help, and relatively easily. Fear will do that! I've also joined a gym and have been going everyday with a serious focus on cardio. After 10 minutes Sunday, the guilt of leaving Bruno in Elizabeth left me. I REALLY had NO prayer in hell, or anywhere else, and God knows what might have happened if I had continued on and ignored it. Maybe nothing? Sure. But I'm glad I didn't roll that dice.

Of course there's disappointment. I'd been planning for six- months, and invested alot of time, effort and money. However, one thing that occurred to me has stuck, and taken root. It seems that sometimes the process of achieving something is more important than the thing itself. I enjoyed the summer that was filled with the anticipation and even anxiety. The two weeks Bruno was here were great, and thanks to something I read about 'only preparing for your first trip once', I paid attention to it all and enjoyed it. Goals are great if you want to buy a car, house, climb the vocational ladder. I'm not one for equating my status in life with how many 'goals' I can reach. All too often, goals are imposed anyhow. Check out "Grand Illusion" by Styx sometime...

It reminded me of that old adage: "Life's a journey, not a destination." Cliche' I know, but isn't it truth?

While I was planning the trip this summer: Life happened. While Bruno and I were here pontificating: Life happened.

I wouldn't trade any of it. Now, you know what I get to do? Experience what it's like to quit smoking! Experience going from piss- poor to excellent cardio health, and all that comes with it. Sounds a bit extreme, doesn't it? Like Pollyanna on Meth perhaps, but true. Part of the tapestry of life.

My primary goal with this trip has been achieved too. Vitam Impendere Vero: Know yourself. I've learned too many things to count. There is a difference between knowing and improving. To improve, you have to identify, REALLY identify it, then attack it. So, the next mini-phase of my life has been presented to me: try not to have a heart attack!

So there it is, in all it's naked honesty. I didn't make it to Mexico, or even Oklahoma. It's taken a week to put it together, decompress, and re-evaluate, but I don't consider it a failure. I'm better, and wiser for it. Is there really anything else to ask for?

One final word on Bruno. He's doing just fine, of course. He's almost to Lubbock, Texas now and is finding our Texan comrades very agreeable! I'll post a few of his updates on here, so if you're interested to see how things turn out, feel free to check back.

He's about half my age, but he's one of the rare young people, in my experience, that actually teach you something other than quoting textbooks. I admire his courage, honesty, and wisdom. Wisdom's a hard thing to come by at a young age! Oh, and I'll pray for you!!

11/1/06: Bike Tour Ends-Repairing Cracked Foundations

*Journal*

November 1, 2006

I've been dreading, or better put: avoiding this. The bike trip failed. Miserably.

By the time Bruno and I got to Parker Road on Sunday, I was beginning to get frustrated. Parker Road had very little shoulder and heavy traffic; frightening for someone inexperienced like me. That was the beginning of the end. We got to Franktown, and Bruno's frustration with my pace became apparent. He asked if we could go faster than 8 mph. I understood the concern, but that was the last straw. I became defensive, self-conscious and ill-prepared for what lie ahead. I'm not going to blame Bruno for this -- the seed was planted on the ride down Parker Road. I really didn't like that! Immediately after leaving Franktown on Highway 86; Hills. Big , long climbs. They nearly killed me. If it wasn't my legs, it was my breath. I could only climb at between three and 5 mph. I didn't stop much, only two to three times, but the hills kept coming. It was here that I finally asked, "What the hell am I doing?" and began to think about home. I wasn't enjoying myself. I felt inadequate in comparison to Bruno. Bad things. We finally got to Elizabeth, elevation 6600 feet, 9-miles later, and stopped at the Safeway. We needed to charge the video camera and the cell phone, plus Bruno wanted to sun-dry his sleeping bag. I went into Starbucks, wrote in my journal, and came back 30 to 45 minutes later. All the time since Franktown, I had been stewing: coming up with scenarios and reasons to quit. My entire body was hating that bike.

All day, I had pain in my left shoulder, my upper back, and my left hand had always been the one to go numb, although I don't remember that being a problem. I tried to remember "the hard is what makes it great" etc., the stuff that had gotten me thru all summer. Nothing. I felt nothing but frustration, anger, and pain up those hills. I could summon nothing; none of the mental resources I thought I'd stowed away somewhere. I felt myself failing and could do nothing about it. Once at Safeway -- after everything was said and done, Bruno and I began chatting. I needed to verbalize my frustrations and doubts. Not only was this my trip, but his as well. I felt like I was holding him back while at the same time feeling that he was rushing me. I knew it was ending and was trying to find the softest edge with which to kill it.

I made arrangements for Laina to call when she got done at work, and Bruno and I continued up the road in search of a campsite. There, again, fate stepped in, much like finding the bike shop. There was a small park/campground on the other side of town. We stopped, ate, and chatted. I began to rethink my decision to quit. Again -- I loved the campsite! It is here- every time- that my energy soars! Eventually, I knew it was too late. In retrospect, that can was opened.

We got into the tent to keep warm. He wrote e-mails while I wrote in my journal. We're barely spoke. I dozed off until Laina called. I asked her to come and pick me up, then dozed off again. I happen to wake up at about the time she was due to get there, so I walked out to the road and waited. She called from Safeway, unable to find the place, so I waited by the road. When she got there, we quickly loaded the bike and panniers etc. and said goodbye to Bruno. We hugged, smiled, and as I turned around felt an odd combination of failure and regret, but also that this was the right time to do this. The bike tour ended when I turned around.

So, here I am three days later. I've had time to ponder, think, adjust, etc.. On Monday, I spoke with my mother about some of the cardio symptoms. Pain between the shoulder blades, in the left shoulder, even one instance of slurred speech. She had me convinced- freaked out actually, that I was having a heart attack. The events aren't as clear now is they would've been, say Monday, but I believe the "cardio excuse" is just that. It's not what made me quit. I quit because of the strain of departure, not enjoying the riding, and not being able to be the master of my destination. This is pretty simple, and we can go back a year for another example: expectations. "Go on your own journey; and go alone." Never have I quoted or thought that so much.

This wasn't my own trip anymore. I didn't want Mexico. Nor Texas. Hell no! I didn't want 50 miles a day or the feelings of failure if I only did 20. I didn't want to carry 20 pounds of food- every day! Perhaps that, as much as anything, killed my motivation. I don't blame anyone for this but myself. My fears let this happen. That's what "didn't feel right." I needed that safety net, Bruno cooked. He fixed flats. He knew bikes. My vision could not possibly be realized due to our sharing the experience. My vision of camping in the middle of nowhere watching the stars by a campfire couldn't be realized with someone afraid of stealth camping. I couldn't read or write because I was too tired after trying to keep pace.

Bruno asked me, "What about your dream?" Great question. I made a promise to Laina: No more of this. If this fails, no more. But, did it fail? Or, was it corrupted? I am at crossroads- a big one. Similar to last year. I have to step back and be sure to gain a crystal-clear perspective. We all learn from failure, as Dylan said. Me as much, if not more, than anyone.

What did I learn? I learned that this trip should have been my own. By myself. I compromised that out of laziness. I didn't learn the camping and cooking techniques because I could lean on Bruno. I didn't condition myself properly. "I'll be fine!" Bullshit. And, the reality couldn't match my vision because of the time of year. I was fighting the physical elements and my physical shortcomings at the same time. That was a cancer to my psyche. Even if I had kept going, there was no way I get out of this what I need. Something on Tuesday was trying to tell me this.

I'm a very weak person in some regards; I have to admit that. Both physically and mentally. I suppose I could step back, reevaluate, retool, and fully prepare for something. Pay much closer attention to my health. I need to do that anyhow. If I want to do anything- I have to learn to prepare myself much better. My skills won't carry me any more. Hanging out with a 19-year-old kid for 15-days has shown me where my vitality has gone: do I want that back? Or, in my content to accept what aging laziness allows? You reap what you sow. I reaped a weekend trip to Elizabeth. Yet, I was able to take a weekend trip, on a bike, to Elizabeth! It's all a matter of attitude.

Regardless, I must quit smoking- now. Must! There is no middle ground after seeing my limitations in action. It all starts there. I have to do whatever it takes to quit. Take up walking or jogging... find something to fight the cravings. Gym membership? Personal trainer? All this and saving money. Instead of three months I could go for a year! Or, go walking with Gary? No! Go alone! I have to attack this somehow. What do I hate? Running. Stairs. I like where this is going. Potential positive on the negative. Keep riding when I can. This is an opportunity; a second chance? Probably should have been done long ago. A wake-up call?

So, let's reflect. The two weeks Bruno was here were a culmination rather than a beginning. I thoroughly enjoyed the time he was here, and we got along great! I'm very impressed with him; his wisdom, courage, and honesty at such a young age. The sky is the limit for him. We had our differences, mainly over our views on faith etc. Bruno is also, in my opinion, a bit naive; a bit trusting of government and people in power. He still young, and he's smart. I'm willing to bet that changes!

This is been a great experience in-and-of itself. The journey is the destination. I'm glad I realized and accepted that when I did. I've now made peace with my supposed "failure." I've learned much, and am a better person for that. While I am still in limbo, I have another set of tools in the toolbox. I'm prepared to try to take things more seriously, and my ego has been put in its place, yet again. I have obvious weaknesses and need to accept and address them. I'll never forget the last two and half weeks- that is for sure. Plus, I have video!

What's next? Great question, worry about, what I can control. Quit smoking; strengthen the heart. Get stronger. Perhaps like last October 29, this will lead to some very positive changes. I feel that it will...

10/28/06: Bike Tour-Ahhhhh!

33 miles (53 km) - Total so far: 82 miles (132 km)


Finally! I feel like I'm touring rather than hauling a load of steel! We got started rather late again, but not nearly as bad as Tuesday. I decided to take the route we should have taken the first time, Cherry Creek Trail to the state park. Weather was awesome, views great, and riding smooth; a welcomed change from Tuesday! My adjusted load is now 65 pounds; down from 115.

Yes kids, I dropped 50 pounds of needless shit.

The handling actually felt like a bike again, no issues that I had Tuesday. My speed was better, and hills much easier. Goes without saying I suppose, but for any would- be tourists: IF YOU DON'T NEED IT LEAVE IT!! I was lucky enough to be able to start over.

A few interesting people we met. A lady named Ty who said we were "living her dream"! We chatted with her near the reservoir, and she even gave us $2! It was a nice gesture from a great person. The dollar I got is my new mascot, I LOVE the symbolism!

At a picnic area at the state park, we ran into Jordan. He's a few days from retiring from CDOT after, as he put it, "wasting my whole f-ing life working for the government. He identified with what we're doing very much! He says he'd love to do this and had lots of questions. Of course we encouraged him & he reminded me a great deal of myself in the spring. Good luck Jordan, and congrats again!

Finally, we met a father and his two sons riding near the C-470. The older of the two seemed amazed that we were living off of our bikes! The younger one? Not so much. I think he'd rather be playing video games.

We did take a wrong turn in Parker and had to backtrack, but only a couple miles. I talked Bruno out of biking Parker Rd.! Not ready to deal with that yet!

We found a perfect spot to camp just off the CC trail between Parker and Franktown. We got there an hour or so before sunset, so we had time to eat some rice and chill out before dark. I liked that! By the way, Raman Noodle seasoning works well with rice! At least the oriental does.

So, as I type this in my tent, today was a much better beginning. The weather's chilly and they have alot more snow down here, but I'm dry, warm, and literally a happy little camper, as long as no one bothers us! Thanks Laina for letting me use the sleeping bag! How come is it yours is wider, almost a foot longer AND warmer???

10/27/06: Bike Tour-Yawn...

Not alot going on today, although it's gorgeous outside! Bruno and I went and bought food, and I got another pair of biking shorts. Other than that, it's been nothing but surfing the 'net, and watching 'Gladiator'.

We're both getting a bit restless... I got the panniers re- packed last night, and will go through them again tonight. Eliminated a TON of stuff; much lighter. Also going to replace the tube in my back tire with a thicker one. We should be ready to push off early tomorrow morning; much earlier than noon!

10/26/06: Bike Tour-Blizzard, Eh?

Woke up to the snow. Heavy, wet snow. Quite a bit, but not nearly what I expected. The Winter Storm Warning yielded about 6" of snow here, but further south toward Castle Rock and Colorado Springs & Pueblo (the way we were going) received as much as 2 feet!

We chose wisely.

In retrospect, taking 285 would have been a disaster! Conifer got something like 22"! This whole episode has made us think in terms of how to respond if we're faced with this in the middle of nowhere. Also, the Pocketmail may have saved our hides. We'll arrange to have someone keep an eye on the weather if we can't.

Seems elementary, doesn't it?

We've decided to stay here through Friday, to let the snow melt a bit. Temps statewide east of the mountains are to be near 70 Saturday, and the forecast says nothing about ANY kind of rain far into next week. We've decided to take a more easterly route at the beginning, to try to drop in elevation and lessen the chances of more 'blizzards'. I have to say... Coloradans have a strange definition of 'blizzards'. We've seen much worse in Michigan, and people just go about their business! I think it may be a matter of the media getting people worked up so they'll watch their weather 'forecast'!

10/25/06: Bike Tour-Blizzard! REALLY?

21 miles (34 km) - Total so far: 49 miles (79 km)

The decision was a no-brainer. We got the details on the snowstorm heading for the front range, and heard forecasts of up to a foot of snow with sustained winds as high as 60 mph, and gusts to 90! The options were easy to weigh:

1- Ride it out (HA!)
2- Get a hotel (almost as outrageous)
3- Ride back from whence we came and try again after the storm moves through

Since we were only 20 or miles... on a direct route... it was easy. We packed up my first stealth camp and turned back.

First campsite.Tearing down as the sun comes up.

Normally, this would seem like a setback, but not so. I discovered about 20 minutes in to the ride the day before that I had packed entirely too much! It was suddenly becoming obvious what I could do without, and that list was getting longer with the mile. By Wednesday morning, I was glad to be able to drop that stuff off!

We initially intended to just retrace the C-470/ Platte Trail, but my experiences on the 470 Tuesday didn't exactly leave me missing it. We stopped off for breakfast at Le Peep at Quebec & 470, and relaxed for a few minutes and decided this would be a good opportunity to get some real street riding experience, fully loaded and good practice at finding our way on the fly. So up Quebec to Dry Creek, etc. We cut and weaved our way home, at a nice slow pace (no hurry, right?) and enjoyed it!

Heading home ahead of the snowstorm.

Just as the first rain drops were falling, we got back. Some 27 or 28 hours after we left! Eventful 27 hours it was. The place had a different vibe when I walked in. Now and again, it's good to disturb the 'assumed course' of events. For those of you who've seen "The Hunt for Red October", I equate it to a 'Crazy Ivan'. The look I got from one of our roommates when she walked in to see me was PRICELESS!

Roommates: Bad idea.

But, it's fun to stir the shit now and then! I was particularly interested in the visitor she had while her hubby was at work and my GF was headed out to her job! It makes me appreciate what I have. A little perspective does one good.

As I went to bed, no snow. It's supposed to hit Thursday AM....

10/24/06: Bike Tour-Launch!

Finally!

As I type this, we're packed and ready to go. I spent most of last night sorting, packing, eliminating stuff and eating hard- boiled eggs. We got to bed around 1:30, and up at about 7:30; plenty of sleep. I eliminated more stuff today, threw on the oversize handlebar bag and I'm set. I decided to take Anna's advice and leave the hammock here; I'll use it next time!

We decided against 285 after comparing weather forecasts. 35 for a high in Fairplay, and snow later in the week. 72-80 all week toward La Junta. Easy choice! We're going to venture out via the Platte River trail, get south of the metro, then head toward Punkin Center... yes "Punkin". From there? Not sure, but perhaps toward the Texas panhandle or E. New Mexico. Not sure of specifics other than getting out of Denver.

Six months of planning and anticipation gives way to the reality...away we go.

10/22/06: Bike Tour-Prelude Update #5

I'm not doing so well at the 'updating more often' thing! In my defense, there hasn't been much to update over the past week. We were waiting for Bruno's bike to arrive, which it did Friday, and for a package from Montreal which should be here tomorrow or Tuesday. After that gets here, we're all set and will probably leave the next day.

He took his bike into Campus to get the cassette replaced, and we enjoyed arguing with the jagoffs in the repair department. There seemed to be some conflicting information regarding the 'estimates' for the repairs on the bike. Come to find out, there are no 'estimates'! They charge labor based on the 'item' rather than 'time spent'. So, there are "quotes" rather than "estimates"! With me so far? There should NEVER be ANY difference in "quotes" between different people unless one is skimming, incompetent or simply too lazy to learn the pricing scale. Guess which it was. Yep! The second guy we talked to was simply too lazy to get off his ass and look up the charges! When we pressed him on it, he seemed to be quite inconvenienced and annoyed! God forbid someone would want to know what they're paying for!

Heavens No!!!!

Come to find out, they in essence charge $60/ hr. for labor; $1/ minute according to this guy's own estimate. He invited us to 'check around' and compare, which we did. Suffice it to say Campus Bike's 'service' department wont be touching my bike again. It seems like people would realize that hammering people for money once, trying to take advantage of them, then becoming indignant when they demand an explanation of the bill, thus not having them return, is less profitable than repeat business and word- of- mouth! Same story... everywhere. I'm particularly pissed in this case because of the amount of money I've spent there over the past 6- weeks. I hope that the $15 in labor is worth the lost business. Foolishness.

We decided to get the Pocketmail, but after it arrived Thursday, discovered it didn't work! We sent it back and are supposed to receive a new one tomorrow. I was on the verge of saying to hell with it, but it seems useful for things like this. If there are any problems with the next one, "To hell with it".

The weather here has been a dose of reality! It's been a roller coaster between sun, snow, wind and some rain. Fall in the Rockies! We took Bruno up into the mountains Friday, and found ourselves in a snowstorm. Some areas got up to 2- feet of snow, and I-70 was a mess:

I suppose the snow causes the nuts to fall from the trees:

"O" is for obedience!

Yesterday, we decided to go to the Denver Zoo, since it was free. Had fun; took lots of pictures.

Who's watching who?

Other than that, we've rented movies, talked and just chilled in the 8 days he's been here. Nothing terribly exciting, but in the next few days we'll make up for that.

One development may be a change in plans- again- about the route. We've discussed going straight to Mexico, and seeing how far/ long we can go, and suspending California/ Arizona. Bruno's all about it, but I'm not sure that's for me. I'm still in the pondering phase. Going to Tampico to see a friend is one thing; heading toward Central America is another.

It's funny the conflicting information you find! Some people equate Mexico as a third- world country filled with savages who prey upon 'poor helpless' Americans! Others have no problems whatsoever traveling solo and self- sustained, all the way to South America. It's made me realize, and further embrace one of the fundamental reasons for this trip: stripping away influence and 'imposed fear'. Seeing things with my own eyes and drawing my own conclusions. Between the media, hippies, neo- cons, religious nut jobs and politicians, a person can't hope to cut through the 'bullshit' on their own without personal experience to draw upon. I'm of the belief that the 'bullshit' runs just as deep on both sides of the ideological river.

Personally, my mind has been quite agitated. Too much to think about; too much idle time. I've been a bit moody! My girlfriend didn't really like the fact that I mentioned our 'disagreement' on 'spending time', but I believe now she understands why I asked her NOT to pass the link to this page along to her friends and family! The positive side of that is that we've, somewhere, come to an understanding (?) on this.

As I get closer to shoving off, I'm becoming more aware of the "Anxiety of Departure" that seems to be a common theme in most epics. Leaving everything you know and care about for uncertainty is difficult. In some strange way, I'm enjoying that anxiety. I suppose that comes from expecting it.

Bruno and I are going to dig into maps today, hammer out a rough initial- route. Thanks for the info/ suggestion regarding 285! I love that route, but never really gave much consideration to it as it pertains to this! We'll definitely look at it today and let you know what we decide. If anyone has experience/ thoughts on Mexico, I'd love to hear them. Baja????

More from the zoo:

Didn't realize they played...

10/15/06: Bike Tour-Prelude Update #4

Bruno finally got here last night, after spending nearly 60 hours on a bus! Crossing the border was uneventful, after that dealing with Greyhound's profound lack of customer service was the biggest challenge. The bus got to Denver on time after a six hour customer service related delay in Kansas City, and we were able to be there when he arrived.

Now it's a matter of waiting for the bike to arrive, so we'll have most of the week to get acquainted and come up with a rough idea for the 'plan'. Not much else to do until then, so we'll take him up into the mountains either tomorrow or Tuesday, and basically just hang out for a few days. We get along well, but the anticipation of getting on the road is getting difficult for me. I've tried not to bombard him with too much, although the thoughts of the trip pretty much dominate my mind these days!