2/8-2/14/11: San Cristobal-Jose Luis and the Galactic Station

Jose Luis

I loved Jose Luis’s place immediately! His was a large guest house in a farm-like setting that  reminded me of Asheville, North Carolina. The house consisted a large main room which worked non-stop as the kitchen, dining, and living area and maintained a rural Montana or New Mexico vibe. The wood floors creaked constantly enhancing the rustic, frontierish ambiance.

I found Jose Luis to be one of the youngest 57-year olds I’d met. He spoke good English thanks in part to having lived, married and had children in the US, and acted as though we’d known each other for years. I thought it was because he had met Chris in January, but this was just how he was with everyone! 

Jose Luis's Place

Bordering the large shared horse-pasture was the landlord, Olivier’s, peculiar three-level house that was home to several tenants including James the Brit and his Estonian girlfriend, Maarja. The building was intricately decorated with large horse-themed figures painted on the exterior and adding to it's distinctiveness was the shape: the main building's width was excessive in relation to depth; so much so that it almost appeared to be a converted barn. With mountains as a backdrop in the distance, everything combined to create an atmosphere that encouraged “presence”; potentially the perfect place to transition to Mexico. Even the dogs & horses had character! 

The Couchsurfer Wing was a rather large bedroom with a small, single bed along side several inflatable mattresses standing neatly made in anticipation of the Couchsurfer Invasion due over the next several days. This was, by far, the most elaborate Couchsurfing situation I’d seen or heard of!  He clearly had completely embraced the spirit of  Couchsurfing and was well on his way to becoming San Cristobal’s unofficial ambassador. 

We had arrived at Jose Luis’s just at the point where I was, physically, nearly ready to expire. My voice was virtually gone, barely a broken whisper and getting worse, but I ran on adrenaline long enough to get acquainted but before long the idea of hunkering down for a week allowed both mind and body to exhale...and my strange, persistent illness to take over.

I needed rest. That’s exactly what I did for the next couple of days. Aside from a trip to the downtown market for food and daily walks to the neighborhood restaurant, Sol y Luna, for huge dinners, there wasn’t much socializing. So little, that I became concerned that I was alienating myself from our host! Couchsurfers each day and, as our little room was quickly filling, I was lying in bed most of the time. 

I was feeling much better as the week went on the parties wound up. Jose Luis’s place became a beehive of activity hosting Couchsurfers from countries including the US, France, Romania, Spain, Argentina, and others. 

Among them was a group referred to simply as “The Hippies” who had arrived in a large, veggie oil-powered bus similar to the one Chris and I passengered to DC in ’09. Their unquestioned leader was a 20-something, dreadlocked, McGyverish character who could usually be seen tinkering with something  while heard speaking, knowledgeably, on everything else. My general opinion of hippies is documented, but as a well rounded man-of-skill, he was fucking impressive! 

James, Maarja, Jan, Alex

In addition to captaining the USS Veggie, he led a nearly cliche’ “hippie-band”; one evidently successful (and good) enough to fund their travels. The band/crew included his mother and two young French women: one extremely attractive and the other eccentrically odd. The latter reminded me of the woman in the old Hungry Like the Wolf video. I never felt safe within striking distance; she seemed ready to...bite.

Another interesting pair were Jan (yahn) and Alexandra, from Spain and Romania respectively. They had been traveling around the world for more than 5-years nonstop and had seen Europe, Africa, Iran, Pakistan, China, India, and almost everywhere else. They had recently traveled the States and were planning a visit to Cuba before turning toward Central and South America.

While I’m not typically impressed with other travelers, these two impressed me. Especially their original anecdotes and opinions about places like Pakistan, Iran, Afghanistan, and Africa. It’s all relative, but that made my hopping of freight trains and hitching Idaho seem a bit...stale!

Alex impressed me with a dose of much-needed frankness and unfiltered honesty. She was a traveling rarity in that, in private conversation at least, she was unconcerned with spreading sunshine and moonbeams. She possessed a blunt, honest authenticity combined with a pragmatic eastern European attitude; she wasn’t frightened to violate the warm & fuzzy Moonbeam Code and would tell you what she REALLY thought of people, places, and cultures--and it wasn't always positive! That kind of honesty potentially rubs Moonbeamers the wrong way!

Sound like anyone you know?

Laryngitis, and not speaking Spanish to begin with, brought a quick, rather intense, and important self-realization: until then, I failed to realize just how difficult it is for me when I'm unable to articulate and express thoughts effectively! From antiquated alcohol abuse, to radio, even to this writing, frustrated, self-destructive, often subtle tendencies became apparent--usually erupting when, due to either a lack of access to the words, or worse a base inability to interpret my own internal codex, I found myself being the metaphorical mute flailing in frustration at the world. 

As they say happens with the blind, this experience served to heighten another sense: listening and observing and, later in the week, when we joined Jose Luis and a friend for dinner and drinks that culminated with some influential insight into who Jose Luis was and a glimpse of what lies beneath the surface of San Cristobal, Chiapas and Mexico overall. Chris and I had already taken a rather keen interest in the Zapatistas and I always have an intense curiosity about various, hidden political & sociological layers wherever I am. Little did I know until that moment that we were staying with a relative expert on both.

Apparently, Jose Luis had been heavily involved in Mexican politics. So much so, that he had traveled to Cuba to “learn weapons” and at one time been courted to run for high national office. To hear him tell it, he somehow ruffled enough political plumage to find himself in jail; arrested by the corrupt elements in the government on fake drug charges...as a warning.

Through the conversation, Jose Luis freely admitted that since he’s left politics, he’s struggling to find a way to redefine/engage his political and social beliefs; a feeling I understood well. Jose Luis never dictated his manifesto, so I can’t say for sure that he was involved directly in the 1994 Zapatista rebellion. What I can say is that this conversation was educational, rather intense, and nudged open a door that, to that point, I had been quietly sitting outside since my arrival in Mexico and, with help, would silently tiptoe thru later.

Our conversation took place about the same time that Wisconsin’s teabagging, austerity hound governor was working to break his state employee’s union. Joe Luis had been watching CNN with disgusted interest, pointing out that his kids were Americans and US politics always affects Mexican politics. We shared a disturbed amazement that, considering our intense history with corporate Labor Wars, Americans were so eager and willing to rescind their own worker’s rights in the name of nothing more than Fake Tea. I’m stunned to this day how people will be manipulated into voting against their own DIRECT interest.

As my brother-in-law perceived well over a year ago, my political conversations and social beliefs often end friendships. This time, however, they forged one. I’d liked Jose Luis from the start but, not requiring anything worthy of authentic respect, it’s easy to be “liked”. I gained a great deal of respect for Jose Luis, and after hearing what I had struggled to say (at proper tone, for once!), I’d repeatedly hear him tell people that I have a “good political mind”, although I would always insist that, no matter what he said, “I wasn’t sleeping with him!” 

The first party was at Jose Luis', and an incredibly eclectic collection of nationalities, personalities, and ages. A traveling road-dog from Mexico City named Norberto was now among us inhabiting  his Couchsurfer Wing, and he turned out to be an incredibly charismatic guitarist providing live entertainment through the weekend.

Beyond his impressive musical skills, I was surprised to play witness to what I can only describe as an impromptu, interactive jam session, led by Norberto, and joined in by everyone else--on whatever they could find to play: cans, pots, pans, tables. Whatever.

It was fun to experience this spontaneous communal recital of The Rolling Stones Satisfaction and Sympathy for the Devil although having neither rhythm nor an ounce of musical talent, I excused myself by filming it! As the evening went on, we found ourselves chatting almost exclusively with James (the 25-year old Brit living next door) and his girlfriend, Maarja. I also found myself laughing a lot in the process! 

Norberto

Seeing James for the first time, I didn’t know what to think other than “blonde Ronald McDonald with a prissy little accent!” However, he proved to be much more interesting than that. They had already traveled all over Central and South America with an impressive flair for adventure.

Since arriving in Mexico, they had stayed for an extended time in Guadalajara, had bought a VW Combi in Mexico City, and were now staying in San Cristobal for a few months and waiting on a replacement for James’s stolen passport. From Mexico, they were planning to take their VW and explore the US . When they invited Chris and I into San Cristobal to find some live music, even though I was still feeling far from prime, we agreed.

Saturday’s tequila-filled party was next door at Kitti’s place, an exotic, exquisite Hungarian who lived in Olivier’s building along with her Argentinian boyfriend, Mauricio. Norberto reprieved his role as The Entertainer, and the party was again followed up by a trip downtown with James & Maarja. Growing quite fond of this couple, I remarked that I hadn’t laughed so hard and so often in a VERY long time. 

Kitti

A wad of pesos and a bottle of James’ rum later, we’d learned that they had nearly been held up at AK-point on a Venezuelan beach before their borderline-psychotic Colombian companion had intimidated their would-be robber with nothing more than gall by charging him and screaming something to the effect of, “You think your fucking gun scares me, Venezuelan? I’m fucking COLOMBIAN!!”

They told of scamming their way aboard a Caribbean-bound boat by telling the captain (falsely) that they were seasoned sailors, managed to pull it off for an extended time, and how James had been nailed by a stingray in the process. James told of visiting Machu Picchu and about getting a severe case of dysentery and having to be flown to Lima for treatment.

This was exactly what I needed to hear looking forward, and I was happy to be in the company of people who had done more, much more, than I had. When the four of us offhandedly discussed the possibility of taking their Combi to see the Mayan ruins in Palenque, we planted some incredibly significant seeds.

Carrie made another, rather surprising, pleasant appearance at Jose Luis’s Couchsurfing Compound over the weekend and suffered a shockingly (to me), intensly adverse reaction to Alex’s “generalizing” opinions on people, places, and things! I also learned that Carrie’s dad broadcasts Major League Baseball on the radio, and himself played for several teams in the ‘80’s. Our common interests in radio and baseball gave us something besides our slightly antagonistic world views to chat about, and triggered (rekindled, really) nostalgic second guessing that would nag to the end of my stay.

Our “plan” (ha!) from the beginning was staying with Jose Luis, at his “Galactic Station” as he liked to call it, for up to a week. Our last night there was Monday, Valentine’s Day and several of us Couchsurfers went out for posh, and expensive, stiff alcohol that comes in different flavors, to celebrate a birthday. It was a great, albeit pricey, way to wrap things up, however Jose Luis was conspicuously absent. Since the end of the weekend’s fiestas Jose Luis had become a bit reclusive, and it was clear that, for us at least, it was time to go...

7/3/08: Portland, OR

Thursday

We got up pretty late again after enjoying the evening of solitude away from people; especially kids! We took out time tearing down the campsite then headed toward Munson Creek Waterfalls... off the 101 toward Tillamook from Beaver.

I had 3 messages from Laina about a voice mail I'd left the day before giving her the impression that something was wrong, when in reality I was just pissed at my inability to follow a budget! I had lost my shitty Sprint cell- signal the night before and had no way of contacting her, so when I did we had a bit of a good natured "you asshole!" laugh. She had done that to me during my time as a carnie in Louisiana back in March. We started discussing possible options regarding the terminus of the journey due to fiscal ineptitude on your protagonist's part. IOW: I'm shitty with money.

I decided to get to Portland, meet my Couchsurfing host, and explore the possibility of getting temp- work while I was there, then discussing it with her later on.

Eric, Marine and I got to the waterfall and enjoyed that alot. It was much bigger than I thought it would be, and the hike getting there was nice.

From there we drove into Tillamook, home of my favorite cheese, and stopped at the library again to check emails and so they could send off CS requests for Seattle. Then it was down Hwy. 6 to Portland.

It occurred to me that I was finally leaving 101/ Hwy. 1 for the first time in nearly 3 weeks. I was also leaving my constant companion, the Pacific Ocean, too. There was a slight twinge of nostalgia because I'd enjoyed that immensely. Yet, I was also ready to see some other things. Oregon is more than just the coast, and that was being drilled home the further east we went thru the Coast Range. Simply awesome. I love this state!

As we approached Portland, I guided Eric to my drop off point and began to gather my things. I'd been in their car for almost a full week, and had been ready to move on for a few days! I'm sure, though they said nothing, that they felt the same! I quickly gathered my stuff from the trunk, shook hands and hugged , and proceeded toward Dave's place. The houseboat! I told myself...

After a quick 1/2 mile walk down the road w/ my now featherlight pack, I found the marina, and began to seek out Dave. I was 45 minutes early, so I hoped it wouldn't cause any problems. Dave saw me wandering around and came out to greet me. He was pretty terse at first, probably annoyed that I had gotten there early and that he was still working. He guided me over to his place, which was NOT a houseboat, but a small one bedroom house built on the deck of the marina. He let me chill out there for 20 minutes or so- smoking and relaxing; glad to finally be in Portland.

Dave was much happier when he got back. He directed me to a much needed shower and laundry- session, then we sat and got to know each other a bit. He and I have VERY similar views on MANY things. He's a musician, so we talked about the uselessness of radio and the future of things, both artistically and socially. We then hopped in his van and headed downtown. There's a blues festival here this weekend, but finding parking was next to impossible so instead we went to Voodoo Donuts then to a little bar that had the Tigers-Mariners game on! Tigers won.

From there it was across the river to the east side of Portland, starting with the Mississippi District. MUCH better! Reminded me of the best parts of Denver, but better. Everything was open- music flowing thru the streets. It was nothing like LoDo... much more 'texture' to it. I really enjoyed that!

We got home about midnight, and though he offered me his couch I chose to sleep on a mattress he has on his covered porch. Slept like a rock... I like sleeping outside these days!

Oregon... ROCKS! I love it here! The people seem so damn genuine... much more so than California... and there's no sales tax either, on top of the fact that stuff's cheaper to begin with. The terrain is devastatingly beautiful too.... more on that, including pictures, when I get some time.

I'll be in Portland for at least a couple days; maybe longer. I've found a place to Couchsurf until Sunday, then may have another surfer to stay with after that... we'll see. It was ALOT easier to find hosts here, and my French friends, who happen to ALSO be Couchsurfers, found it the same. No luck in SF for them either but no problem here.

7/1/08: Oregon

So ready for California to be behind me now! I slept WAY too late in my soft grass, and didn't rise until 10:30 or so. Eric and Marine had taken a hike down to the beach and had been up for awhile, so I hurriedly packed up and we hoofed it out of there back to the car.

My cell phone was still dead , and I had no idea where I'd stay once we got to Portland, so I really needed a library. I also needed a lift in my spirits. The feelings that I'd hung on with these guys, despite the fact that they'd not indicated it, were really starting to set in too. We got out of Crescent City and headed toward the state line. Eric stopped when we reached Oregon so I could hop out and take my picture. That really helped. I had spent 18 days in California, had some great times, but now I was in new territory- a place I'd never been. My energy level skyrocketed.

We stopped in Brookings, just over the border so Eric could get gas which was MUCH cheaper here. One of the funniest things happened here. In Oregon, unbeknownst to me, it's illegal to pump your own gas. Eric didn't know this, so when the guy approached his car to pump it for him, he thought he was in trouble! I believe the guy scared the shit out of him!

I got some coffee, cigs, and even found an outside plug where I could finally charge my phone and make a phone call or two. We probably spent 45 minutes at this little gas station, then got on the road again. Eric had two days until he had to drop his rental off in Portland, so we had to get a little ways into the state. I felt better about my decision to stay with these guys too because the 101 is a mile or two inland- away from the coast with numerous roads leading off the highway to the innumerable State Parks.

We stumbled, completely by accident onto a library in Langlois where I could get online to get some Couchsurf requests sent off, and charge the cell phone a bit more. We spent some time in there, about an hour, and through conversations with the librarians, VERY nice people, I got more free maps including my Rand McNally Oregon map. I was pretty happy about that.

We continued on, stopping less frequently than before and went through some interesting little towns, and over some terrific bridges.

Along the way after the library, we spied Sunset Bay, SP on the map and decided to check it out. We again did the Safeway trip where I grabbed a single steak this time, and Eric grabbed a bottle of wine.

The state parks are a bit cheaper here, $16, and the locale seemed very nice. We got there after the Ranger station had closed, so we proceeded in and found an open site. This place, AGAIN, was infested with children. I encouraged Eric to wait to see if anyone came around to collect money, remembering Florian's experience in Big Sur. While we were setting up though, a guy came along and collected from Eric.

After we got set up, I had a bit of a surprise when Eric expected me to pay $5 for the campsite. No big deal, just wasn't expecting it. I may not have gotten the steak had I known that, but hell-- I probably would have!

I got the fire going with what little wood I could find, and we finally used a bit of the bundle he'd bought a couple days earlier. I also learned that I had a positive response on a Couchsurf request, from a guy named Dave who lives at a marina in NW Portland. I was thrilled to learn that! I already liked Portland much more than SF!

I again tried to let them do their thing, and disappeared in search of a cell signal to return a call to Friar Chris while getting a slight glow from the wine. We chatted for a bit, and I vented a few of my little frustrations.

I found my way back to camp where we all sat and drank a bit of wine and had another rather lengthy bull session. I stayed up a while after they went to bed, and just chilled; looking at the sky and thinking. One more day with my new friends, then Portland the next day.

Oregon

6/27/08: Muir Beach-Olema, CA, Eric & Marine

One of the more significant days of the trip. One that would determine the time frame of the entire West Coast.

I woke up beneath by bushes rather early to the sounds of hikers chatting as they passed by me, not realizing that I was nestled in there. It's funny what people say when they think no one's there. Reminds me of that philosophy that 'no one's normal'; we all have goofy quirks we try to hide when people are around!

I had a couple cups of cold instant coffee-- the usual-- packed up and decided today I'd get on down Hwy. 1. Part of the reason I crossed the Marin Headlands via the trail was that it deposited me at Muir Beach, which is where my now favorite road comes close to shore after separating from the 101.

I was still short on water after accidentally dumping the Camelback the day before, so my first mission was stocking up on water, then #2 was getting to the next town for FOOD! I was running a bit low, not really getting any since Cambria, before Florian picked me up, and Muir Beach isn't a town as much as a place rich people build palaces overlooking the coast. No stores. I found a neat little Inn just as I picked up the 1, went in to fill up the water and was off... back on the road.

The first thing I noticed was how narrow the shoulders were, and how many curves this stretch had... and more hills. There were times where I'd have to cross the road to get wider shoulder space and to be able to see as traffic was coming. The smoke from the wildfires that had been raging in California still held overhead too... I wouldn't see much sun for DAYS from here on out... and it mixed with fog coming off the Pacific. It's hard to tell the difference in the two, except for the faint smell of smoke and the BLAZING red sunsets. The effect of the smoke- fog and the terrain gave everything an almost creepy beauty! As though I were walking thru a Stephen King or Alfred Hitchcock movie...

And so it went... Walking, resting, hitchhiking. My feet were much better with the new inserts, but I began to develop a blister in the worst place for me: my right heel. That bugged me because these are always a big problem for me, and they never seem to callous. It was obviously from all the hills, but something that needed to be kept on top of.

I'd decided to hitch it to Stinson Beach because of that and my food shortage, and resolved to completely prepare there for the upcoming 300+ miles to Oregon. Eventually I got a ride with Richard, a 40- something guy on his way to Stinson. He told me a disturbing story about a beating/ stabbing that had just taken place in the next town up from Stinson. Apparently some kids beat a guy to the brink of death on the beach. The part that creeped me out was that he was a drifter- type... homeless by choice... vagabond.... whatever. I could be seen that way too. I quickly figured on getting thru that area ASAP.

I got to Stinson Beach and Richard dropped me at the "shitty expensive" grocery store (his words; they rang true). I went in and loaded up on tortillas, Raman, instant Oatmeal, and even bought some Tillamook cheese: my new favorite. With the lithium batteries and Clif Bars, the bill came to an ungodly $38! Are yo u kidding me?!?!

When I came out, a middle age guy spied the backpack and struck up a conversation. I wasn't exactly in the mood to socialize because of the image of the beaten/ stabbed guy floating in my paranoid imagination. He said he was camping in the hills above Stinson, and that I was welcome to join him up there if I liked. Perhaps I should have been more open to that, but for whatever reason, I just wasn't interested in staying there. It was still relatively early... 3:30 or so, and I wanted to get out of town, and past the now infamous Bolinas. He did however point me toward the library, and I was thrilled to find out it was open until 6!

I figured I'd go in and upload a few pictures and update the now lagging Trip Diary, but when I got in there I discovered that this library had the FASTEST upload speeds I believe I'd ever seen. So, I did a mass upload of pictures covering the time between Santa Cruz and there, and delayed the update. I also got a few free maps from the very friendly librarian, and more details on the beating, which seemed to be on the tips of everyone's tongue. That settled me a bit because since it was obviously BIG news, it wasn't something that happened very often. Plus, I learned that the people who did it... which included a 16 year- old, were in jail.

I uploaded until 6:00, then made my way out of Stinson Beach catching a ride with a 40- something woman in a VW Bug to the road that leads to Bolinas. I continued on up the road toward dusk, thru Dogtown and into Pt. Reyes Natl. Seashore where I began to hunt places to bed down for the night. Again, I almost stopped but figured I'd continue on a bit to see if I could either find better spots or catch a ride.

Did I ever!

Out of nowhere a burgundy Mazda 6 pulled over, and inside were a young couple in their 20's who spoke with THICK accents. I laughed out loud... much to their surprise I'm sure. I asked them, in my fatigue, if they were German by any chance and the said no... French. They said they were on holiday heading up the coast and could at least get me to the next town or maybe State Park. I liked them immediately.

I hopped in and we started chatting as we drove toward Olema. When it became apparent we would get along nicely, and they said they were looking to camp I suggested we just split a site and hang out for the night. They were cool with that, so we asked an elderly couple in Olema about the nearest campground. They said there was one a couple of blocks further up Hwy. 1, and that they were staying there, REALLY liked it, and more importantly there were vacancies. Good enough for us ...

The campsite was privately operated and thus expensive. $37 for three of us! Remember the scene in Vacation when the Griswold's get to the camp in Colorado? I did:

"$37 for THREE tents?"

Plus, a little bundle of firewood was $9!

So, yeah... almost half of my weekly budget on a campsite. I looked at it as an investment though. I thought it was likely that we'd get along very well, and since we were going the same way, I may have found the perfect ride, so I didn't stress about the money too much. Plus the place had showers and a laundromat... woohoo!! Needed both... badly.

We set up camp, and began chatting. The place was overcrowded and had entirely too many kids. I wondered if there was such thing as an adult- only campground that didn't involve nudists or swingers. I still wonder that...

Through the course of conversation I learned that Eric and Marine were traveling with much the same philosophy as I. No concrete plans or time frame. I loved that. PLUS... they were Couchsurfing it!! YES!!! It was about then that I realized how big Couchsurfing is becoming. They told me that they too had problems finding a host in San Francisco, but had already found one in Portland.

We chatted around the fire for quite awhile and got to bed pretty late. I still wasn't sure how things were going to go the next day, but figured either way was fine with me. I could continue on my own, or ride with these guys if they liked. I figured I'd get up, shower, do some laundry, and take it from there. Again though, I thought, the solution may have presented itself.

6/24/08: Escape From San Francisco

Got up rather early and sent out MORE Couchsurfing requests to see if I could indeed extend my time in SF, got a shower, packed, and hit the streets. I decided to go check out the Castro District and Haight/ Ashbury: two of the things I missed on out last trip in '03.

The Castro was pretty neat; VERY gay! Haight- Ashbury: a disappointment. Commercial. I managed to chat up a panhandler while I was there, for about an hour, then took some pics of the houses of the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin.

From there it was pretty obvious from my repeated checking of emails that I was NOT going to find a Couchsurf... in San Francisco! How lame. I decided to start walking toward the Golden Gate Bridge and sniff out bus routes. When I got to Golden Gate Park, I stopped in to the Visitors Center to get some info, then continued thru the park to Fulton, then intended to catch a bus at Park- Presidio to get to the bridge and hoof across.

It was about then that I discovered I no longer had my wallet! I began to think all sorts of evil thoughts and realized that I must've left it at that Visitor Center, so I turned around and double timed it to the best of my ability with Mr. Hefty on my back, and got back there 2 miles later to find my ugly wallet safe and sound.

This was about the time I really began to seriously consider ending this little adventure. I believe, no, I KNOW, that if that wallet hadn't been found, that would have been it. San Francisco, rather than being enjoyable turned out to be a drain, and completely took me out of my element. I dislike cities, with the exception of Denver, intensely. People refuse to look you in the eye! Ugh!

I started back toward the bridge with my wallet safely tucked in my pocket, and this time went down Balboa St. thru what I believe were the Russian and Korean parts of San Fran. I do like that aspect of the city; distinct neighborhoods.

Eventually I re- found Park Presidio and caught my bus, feeling exhausted. Thankfully it took me directly to the Golden Gate Bridge, and I prepared to get across.

Walking the bridge should have been more enjoyable- I remember thinking this, although it was nice. I took a ton of pictures and felt a sense of accomplishment as I crossed into Northern California. It's just under a mile across, and must have taken me a good hour with all the stops for pics. When I got across, I stopped into the same Vista Point Laina and I had visited in 2003, and just hung out-- half hoping I'd find inspiration or a ride... or both!

Eventually it became time to find a place to sleep and as I was hunting around I spotted a woods on the other side of the 101; the beginning of what I learned was the Marin Headlands. I hiked over there and discovered something called the California Coast Trail; something I'd never heard of. I also found a place to throw down the pad & sleeping bag with a full view of the SF skyline as the sun went down. I plopped down, the wind began to howl so I bundled up, ate my pathetic excuse for a supper and chatted with Laina about what I should do. Turns out, finding that trail was just what I needed. Plus, I asked myself if I would turn down the opportunity to meet Florian and his family if I had known they were going to come along. I answered of course not! And it made me remember that there were more experiences lying ahead if I pushed on. Sometimes my mind is the hardest battle to fight, and this particular lesson would pay dividends down the road.

***Not only in the short term, but THIS specific decision to persevere and continue on would reverberate and serve as a personal reminder of why I should push forward for years to come. In fact, it still does to this day. As you read on and the events further down this road continue to play out, and do they ever,  periodically imagine me ending this trip here. I did! There's one event in particular that, had I quit, never happens and completely changes the scope of the following summer in general and eliminates Andre in particular: one of the most profound experiences of any trip I've ever taken. Anywhere.  ***

I bedded down in another spot a bit more shielded from the wind and got to bed pretty late.

6/23/08: San Francisco, CA

Really not a lot to talk about. Got up late, had some coffee and sent off Couchsurf requests to see if I could find other places in the city to stay this week. I then found out where the REI is, only 10-12 blocks from here, so I walked up there to see if I could find a way to solve, or at least help, the blister and tendinitis problems. I was thinking I'd use their killer return policy to exchange the shoes if I needed to, but after chatting with the guy there it became apparent that my problem may have been the inserts I had, so I got some new ones. They had a deal on Cliff bars, so I loaded up on them for $1 a piece, then came back to Greg & Chloe's and joined them downtown while they had pizza. The weather here's been exactly what you'd think about San Francisco. Cold by comparison to where I came from, and windy. Nice to be out of the blazing sun, although I'm sure I'll get over enjoying the cold VERY soon!

I also chatted with Chris about ideas to make some money while I'm here, but that seems rather hard without a place to land. I'm digging thru Craigslist hoping to find temporary general labor type stuff. If I can work it out, I'd work for a week or so to try to recoup some of the money lost on the secy. deposit, but I'm not optimistic. We'll see.

The rest of the evening was spent watching Stewart/Colbert and sending out Couchsurfing requests for Tuesday. No luck so far, so if I don't find anything by mid- afternoon I believe I'll head into Marin County over the Golden Gate Bridge and start the second half of the California trip. I read that there are some lightning- induced wildfires up that way, so hopefully that wont be an issue.

Pretty funny when I think about how long it's taken to get here. I figured before I left it would take a couple of weeks at minimum, rather than 8 days. I wonder if the northern half of the state will be the same!

6/22/08: San Francisco

Sunday

I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again, but we're headed toward San Francisco later this afternoon. My plan is to Couchsurf, but that seems unlikely because of the short notice so I'll probably just try to get across the Golden Gate Bridge toward Marin County/Sausalito and wing it from there continuing up Highway 1.

I'll update when I can, just a reminder that all of last week's stuff has been added to/expanded. Worth re-reading if you haven't yet!


EDIT 11:30 pm: Well, that was quick. Hello from San Francisco!

We all left the KOA at about noon and headed to Rio Del Mar State Beach in Santa Cruz for a day of relaxation before the 90 mile drive to San Francisco. For whatever reason, I chose to simply hang out in the RV for the day out of the sun, and just chill. I wound up checking my email for responses to my Couchsurf requests and talking to Laina at length about possibly cutting this leg of the trip short to return home to work for a few weeks to compensate for the loss of my security deposit money, that was of course unwisely counted on!

We decided that it just doesn't make sense to stop just yet. This has thrown a major kink in the plan, but more by way of removing a nice little safety net for things like purchasing pants when the crotch seam splits in one pair, and the other gets covered in tar...which happened, of course. I guess I'd better learn to sew.

So, I'm pressing onward. I had never even considered heading back before all this came up, but in reality the main problem is that I'm coming in over budget every week. If that weren't the case, this would really make no difference. Obviously I know what to address.

The drive from Santa Cruz to San Francisco was spent repacking the backpack and re-configuring my brain to road-mode after RV surfing for 3 days. I didn't really pay that close attention to the landscape between the repacking and playing with Paul.

 Just before we got into San Francisco I got an email from Couchsurfers Chloe and Greg that I had a place to stay for tonight AND Monday night. Happy times! That would mean no sleeping beneath trees in Sausalito AND I could see a bit of the city AND possibly surf long enough to stick around for THE Gay Pride Parade in San Fran next weekend! I mean, come on...when will I ever get a chance to see THAT again?!?!?

Florian made a stop to finally get his currency exchanged...at a hefty price...and spent another half hour trying to just find a parking place. In the meantime I connected with my surfer hosts and got directions to their place. I disembarked my new favorite RV and my first RV surfing experience came to a close. Florian, Veronika, and Paul were all hungry so Florian invited me in to Mel's Diner for a goodbye meal. I felt bad about taking more from them, but quickly realized how hungry I was and figured it would be too late (and I was too poor) to get anything anywhere else in this expensive city. So I ordered a big ol' burger and prepared to take my leave of my new friends.

We walked up the street a bit further together until he found a Starbucks where he could get Internet to check their plane reservations and that was it. We had exchanged information earlier, so we shook hands, hugged, they invited me to see them in Munich whenever I get there and we parted ways. I'm going to miss them. These are truly the type of people who enhance any experience, and like Pat, I felt lucky to have been able to spend time with them, let alone 3 days and a ride from near Hearst Castle all the way to San Francisco. Hopefully I'll be able to see them again.

I continued walking up Geary street and eventually asked some firemen directions to my surfers street. I crossed Market Street, seeing familiar sights all around from our trip here in 2003. I found 5th St., and eventually their loft with little trouble. Greg had given me solid directions, which always helps!

I am Chloe and Greg's first Couchsurfer although they have another coming in Tuesday from Brazil and staying for a WEEK! They're jumping in head first, eh? Nine straight days of CSers. Wow. We got acquainted over some beers and a fruit/Vodka concoction as I doted on their cats (of course). They are really nice people, with a very comfortable place. They also have a 2 1/2 year-old son. Lotsa cats and kids on this trip!

Tomorrow we may go to Chinatown, then REI right around the corner to see about exchanging my shoes to alleviate the blister problem. No REAL plans though. Also send off a couple CS requests for the rest of the week.

6/21/08: Highway 1-Santa Cruz

A rather lazy day. Not alot done other than laundry, updating & expanding the trip diary, and uploading pictures. It takes a long time! I downloaded the Picasa program onto Florian's laptop and that made all the difference...when I got stable Internet from the KOA laundry room.

I tried to let them have as much space as I could, feeling a little guilty that I've been tagging along with them so long. The all took the RV to have dinner at a seafood place in town and I was glad when they came back and said they had a great time.

Florian and Veronika also gave me one last piece of great news. They said they'd not only take me to San Francisco tomorrow, but across the Golden Gate Bridge if I couldn't find a Couchsurfer to stay with in the city. This was my biggest concern about this trip: dealing with the Bay Area Sprawl. San Jose, Oakland, San Francisco... no avoiding it except by means of public transportation...the BART. I sent off 10 Couchsurf requests but I'm not optimistic because of the short notice. Either way I'm covered, but it seems like a waste to just jet through San Francisco. I've been there before, but only as a tourist. It would be nice to see it through the eyes of someone living there.

Mentally I was a bit agitated today, mostly from the landlord folly, watching this particular KOA extort money from the guests in every way they can, and updating the story about Pat from last week.

On TOP of charging $90+ dollars a night for an RV hook up, and the tiny cabins running something like $100, this KOA has this little train that drives me batshit every time I see it because they charge $1 for every passenger. I believe it runs on electricity and holds 20 people, and is full of kids most of the time. Pure profit, and you KNOW that the kids go bananas when they see it! Reminds me of this sign near Canon City, CO for this little out-of-the-way fun park that puts up signs about a mile apart saying: 'Scream 'till Daddy Stops!' The signs are funny though!

I spent alot of the day thinking about the economic predators, and those that use law and policy as weapons to separate you from your money. I thought alot about Pat. And the Parking Lot Nazi...I'm really disgusted with this culture and it's definitions of worth and success. More so now. We're all defined on a scale and it's called the dollar. 'The Landlord' is a very successful, sold-out, bourgeois liberal, 60's hippie who told me once that he believes strongly in changing things, but only within the system. Thus the sold-out part, eh? It occurred to me that he told me this inside of his very opulent home, and perhaps he was so beholden to the system because it's rewarded HIM handsomely. His 'system' bought and paid for him.

It goes back to Chomsky's Manufacturing Consent. Stay within the boundaries and don't upset the establishment and you'll prosper. But look too deeply beneath the surface and question the tilted game, and you'll be punished.

Rush's 'Subdivisions': '... In the high school halls; in the shopping malls...conform or be cast out'

I prefer Thoreau's idea that the only place for an honorable man within corrupted society is 'cast out'. When that system provides the powerful with the means to use the law as a bludgeon to extort from the poor, that system is illegitimate and as Thoreau said '... but I will still make what use of her I can...'

The good part of all of this is that it was a stark reminder of why I set out in the first place. The honeymoon period is ending and I believe now I'm starting to focus more on the bigger picture; playing the part of the observer rather than adapting survivor.

6/14/08: Santa Barbara, CA

In a bit of a hurry again! Yesterday was incredible. I met up with my Couchsurfing host, Chris, at the library when she got out of work and she brought me along on an INCREDIBLE Sierra Club hike that she was taking into the Santa Barbara foothills. It was a pretty steep hike, but the conversation with Chris and her friends coupled with the vistas were terrific! I wish the pics of the coast has come out better, but I was thrilled to be up there!

We then came to her house in Isla Vista, near UCSB, where she was hosting a potluck and I got caught up on my phone calls. Chris and her family were excellent hosts, and her friends, including the couple we went to hang out with after the potluck, made me feel like I have been in Santa Barbara for years.

I managed to take the 2-minute walk down to the seaside last night, and with the moon reflecting off the water realized that I had gotten "there". It was awesome!

Not sure what's happening today. I connected with another Couchsurfer who's taking a hike near Ojai overnight and invited me to come and camp out with him. if I can get around in time, I think I'll take him up on it!

Santa Barbara's been great, and has become one of my favorite places in the short time I've been here. Good choice!!

California

6/13/08: Friday the 13th on the California Coast

Day 11
Santa Barbara, CA

Arrived in Santa Barbara this afternoon after about 25 hours on the Amtrak. Funny how this decision came about, but glad it did! The ride here via the Southwest Chief and the Surfliner was fine; relaxing. Gave me time to think a bit and would have helped me to get prepared, but I'm already there. Weird.

I did spend 3 hours at Union Station in LA, and about an hour chatting up a guy who claimed he used to be Alice Cooper's guitarist. It appeared to me that everyone near Alameda St. downtown was a musician, at least in their own minds if not reality. He was a decent guy though, and actually enjoyed the chat.

This part of California is amazing! Definitely not disappointed with the scenery, and there are state beaches everywhere from what I could see on the train. Better than Florida in the respect that both the temps and humidity are lower. Santa Barbara is clean beyond imagination, and reminds me a bit of St. Augustine, without the 600 year old buildings. Probably better comparisons to be made, but I'm in a hurry. Only 30 minutes at the library.

I'm staying with a Couchsurfer tonight who happened to work here at the library, so no drama meeting up with her. She and her husband have 2 boys, 17 & 21. She's taking me on a hike w/ some Sierra Club friends into the foothills when she gets out, then I was invited to take part in a potluck she happens to be hosting tonight. Free Food!! yay!!

I'll try to get out of town early tomorrow, unless I can find another host. Santa Barbara is worth seeing more than just a quick walk thru. Interesting people it would seem also. I was just "exposed" to the most in-depth conspiracy theory I've ever heard while waiting for the computer!

I'll let ya know...

5/26/08: Memorial Day-Glenwood Springs

DAYS 6-7

Still Couchsurfing at Leah's trying to decide rather I want to try to come up with a kayak to take the Colorado River, which is across I-70 from here, into Utah toward Canyonlands or pack up and head either west or north. I hadn't really planned on being in this part of Colorado, so I'm having to retool what few 'plans' I've made. I'm thinking I could get to Rifle, and walk US-6 or head north toward Craig in an effort to get toward Idaho then Oregon. I could also head due west, but then I'm completely reliant on rides to get me thru Utah in general and maybe Salk Lake City in particular. I have no urge to deal with SLC, but must confess I'm curious to see what the people in Utah are like. Somehow I suspect they're not as 'weird' as some people would like us to think!

Sunday was spent lounging around, and taking the free bus around Glenwood going to the thrift store and the Army Surplus to seek out some different rain- pants. Ft. Morgan made me realize that the jogging pants I brought may be a bit insufficient in the long run! I also kind of wish I had kept Friar Chris' big yellow rain hat! In the end I decided it wasn't worth the money to just get some flimsy pants, so I'll go with what I have.

James went with, and he seems to know alot of people here. He splits his time between Leah's, a van, and a tent in the mountains. He also told me how to get a 'food card' from the state; 3- mos @ $160 a month-the day you apply. I'm not going to do that of course, but it struck me that the social 'services' in Glenwood, and Colorado seem remarkable. They have a day center where people can get a shower, Internet access, and even some food. The vagabonds seem to appreciate Glenwood, and it's obvious that they have a rather progressive attitude here. Because of this, I believe, while the 'alternative culture' is thriving, that's why I have yet to see ONE panhandler. It's a good place to be for those who choose to tell society where it can go.

I spent the first money ($20)on food since I left last week too. A box of 12 Cliff Bars, trail mix, loaf of cheap bread, and some summer sausage in anticipation of leaving here this morning, but the weather will be better tomorrow and I want to think a bit more about the possibility of working for a week or two to either get the kayak or add to the funds. Wages are inflated here; $10-$12 almost everywhere and Help Wanted signs too. I just don't know if I can stomach working!

Leah and Rob said I could stay indefinitely, but I'm getting itchy feet and noticing that the longer I'm here, or anywhere, I get a bit off track mentally. I adapt to domestic life, but then the splinter in-the-mind starts to itch. My internal compass reminding me I'm straying off course.

That's something that's always been with me and before I knew what it was, even got to the point of depression! I know there are alot of people who have that sort of "inner voice" screaming at them, but they simply can't interpret it. It's something that's there to guide you and the "Rosetta Stone" presents itself when you start to listen, rather than fight it, blame yourself, and let your indoctrination and the "Ministry of Standards & Practices" convince you that the 'flaw' is YOURS, that you're defective and need to 'get with the program'. Listen, observe, ask honest questions and you'll soon begin to realize that the flaw's not yours-it's the 'program' that needs to be 'fixed', or preferably in my estimation: ignored. Thoreau: "...but I will still make what use and get what benefit from her I can." Nothing immoral about that; the system uses you in the exact same way!

You'll either get that or you wont.

I also signed up on Digihitch.com today to try to find a possible partner. I'd love to have someone I could chat and experience stuff with, but what are the odds?!?!? Ha!

Been a pretty chill couple of days, but yeah...getting a bit restless! I may head out later this afternoon still...it's Memorial Day, so I may be able to catch a ride quite a ways with some people who came to Glenwood for the holiday, but I don't know yet. My indecisiveness is still driving me batshit!

Oh, one funny note although I'm sure they don't think so. Rob forgot to put 'Red' back in his tank Saturday night. Red is the red-tailed Boa Constrictor in the pictures. He's small...maybe 2-3 ft., and pretty harmless...now. We tried desperately to find him, but no luck. So, there's a Boa slithering around the trailer somewhere. They bought a mouse to try to lure him out... but...we'll see about that!

I keep picturing news footage I've seen:

"Next on Action News: A TWENTY- FOOT Boa Constrictor is found beneath a Glenwood Springs trailer! Neighbors had no idea it was there and the mystery of the disappearing neighborhood pets is now believed to be solved..."

Now you know how these things happen!

5/24/08: And the Road Has Always Led West...

Ft. Morgan to Glenwood Springs, CO

"Into the Bush"? Not so much.

When I got up to I-76 at 11:30, it was as if there were some imaginary boundary I wasn't meant to cross. I discovered there were MORE tornado watches issued for Morgan County, and the rest of NE Colorado so I re-found my familiar spot under the Conoco sign advertising gas for $3.92, and waited for a ride toward Sterling, Julesburg, or ANYTHING near I-80.

The thought that the weather, and my seeming inability to get out of Ft. Morgan for my third day, was making me think that perhaps I should forget Nebraska, Iowa, S. Dakota etc. and head toward Oregon now. One way or another. I figured I'd see if a ride developed while I saw how the weather would play out. I could always walk up Hwy. 52 toward W road if things cleared up later in the day, and if severe weather came through, I could get inside.

In reality the weather began to go to hell. Storms moved in, a public address system that they use to announce severe weather went off, and it got COLD! Plus, the wind was incredibly strong. I found out that a tornado had in fact tried to touch down nearby, but never quite got to the ground after 3 tries. Close enough for me.

It's also Memorial Day weekend, so most of the cars I saw consisted of families who had no interest in picking up timid hitchhikers.

Meet Dennis

At about 6:30, with a new storm warning issued, and it getting dark, I left the gas station to seek shelter, and before I had even gotten out of the parking lot...guess what...a pickup truck hauling a large John Deere stopped across the road and offered me a ride.

West.

I asked how far he was going, and he said "almost to Utah". That was enough for me after 3 days in Ft. Morgan, so I hopped in.

The drivers name was Dennis, and he had been seriously burned I later found out in a oil well accident back in 1980. He seemed nice enough, a guy who seemed like a big talker, but I didn't get a threatening vibe at all, so didn't feel too concerned. I was certain I could whoop him if need be! But about 2 blocks up the road be let's me know that he's had a 'couple of drinks', but "not to worry". I figured, since he was headed toward the business district I'd be able to see how worried I should be rather quickly, and he was driving well, so I just went with it.

The tractor was to be dropped off in Ft. Morgan, along with two HUGE tires (pics) and, of course, he asked me to help with that-which I did. Plus, if he fell off the trailer, I'd know he was in no shape to drive! No one was left at the business, so he just dumped these two massive tires wherever they fell, left the tractor by the chain link fence and left. He was none to happy that they had left for the weekend, because he wasn't getting paid! He attributed it to the tornadoes. I figured it was 6:30 or 7:00 on Memorial Day weekend; I wouldn't have waited either. I kept that insight to myself.

We got on I-76, and headed west- back down the same road I had ridden w/ Chris a few days earlier, and I caught myself thinking, 'what a waste!', but then realized that this was going to be a part of the complete mosaic; journey not the destination thing.

On the way toward Denver, I learned that the 'couple' of what I assumed were beers were in fact huge hits from the Vodka bottle in the console! I then learned that he had JUST gotten a DUI in Oregon, and been in a minor accident after falling asleep near Eagle, and would soon be losing his CDL. GREAT!!!

I began to plot ways of getting out of that truck in Denver where the surroundings were familiar, but just couldn't stand the thought so I decided to ride it out, and see where it took me. Part of the journey...part of the story...blah...blah...I think I'm going to look back on that as a significant moment. We'll see.

I found out that he conveniently had a laptop and nationwide broadband Internet via satellite in the truck, so I convinced him he needed an inverter (not hard to do!) and then began sending off Couchsurfing requests to places along I-70 west of Denver! Breckenridge...Glenwood Springs... Grand Junction. It was late, but for some reason felt pretty confident I'd find something and sure enough I got a call almost immediately from Leah in Glenwood Springs. The initial call was odd because Dennis was driving and I had to act like we had known each other and not let on that I was plotting an escape, lest I be dumped in the middle of nowhere at 9,000 feet with spring snow falling!

He was buzzed & eager to socialize with ANYTHING female, so to motivate him to get me there that night (he was talking about stopping in Eagle) I answered 'yes' when he asked "Does yer gerl have a friend?". It was like meth to his imagination-he was inspired!

From there it was a matter of keeping him on the road and talking so he wouldn't doze off. It was then that the serendipity kicked in. I figured out why he picked me up, and then had a pretty good idea why I was now heading west.

Dennis is a raging alcoholic who want to but has NO idea how to get it under control. He needed someone to talk to that had the courage to be honest with him, share ideas, and offer a clear perspective. Right up my alley! He said I was the first hitcher (even if I wasn't technically hitching-- technically) that he'd picked up in "20,000 miles".

Over the 5 hours or so he became almost dependent. DEFINITELY attached. I hit something he needed. Again, the conversation-as with the night before with Richard-centered on finding answers within yourself rather than Pink Floyd's "someone or something to show you the way"; or Leonard Cohen's "Waiting for the Miracle": "...I waited half my life away." The idea's getting clearer...

He did everything he could to keep me in the truck; even in the room he rented in Glenwood. I however had had enough.

We got to Glenwood Springs about 12:30, he found a room at the Glenwood Suites, I called Leah to arrange a pickup, and leveled with him that I was a bit fed up with the Vodka and needed to move on-without him. I also burst the bubble that he was going to "hook up" with Leah's non-existent "friend". We parted ways with me giving him my cell number, and him promising to take me to Grand Junction the next morning-which I knew would never happen and didn't.

I got to Leah's, and she has a house full! Five other adults, and 4 kids between 3 mos. and seven. I LOVE it here! It's real...the dose of domestic reality I love. And taking me in at the last minute?? Gotta love that.

Today I began to consider hanging out in Glenwood long enough to work to get my kayak or canoe...and since the Colorado River is across the road...Bryce Canyon anyone?? Chris...Chris...Buehler...?

I need to process that and get over my ever present self-doubt and ego watch, but there's a common theme developing even back to the pre-trip days and the conversations with Friar Chris. Now I'm trying to be receptive to see if there's a "why I'm here". I suspect I've found it, but need to think on this one. I need to be sure I'm right.

There's something weird that happens when you're out on the road like this, and it's NOT just me that gets it. Things happen at the right times, and for the right reasons. You have to be open to the possibilities and willing to act on them, fighting your fearful tendencies, culturally indoctrinated wariness of the unknown, and taking your 'plans' & dogma and throwing them out the window. It's a challenge that's difficult to grasp at first, but the freedom is INTOXICATING!

I was discussing this with my friend Amber today, who's headed to Italy to WWOOF next week, much to the chagrin of her family. Use common sense, listen to your instincts, and live.

Me the arrogant philosopher after five days; get used to it I guess!