8/12/08: Ken Again - Colorado to Oklahoma

Eric and I were up and on our way at 9:30, running all over the Denver metro basically tying up loose ends. We stopped at a Sprint store so I could get a car charger for my cell phone so as not to repeat the events in northern California with Eric & Marine. The damn thing cost me $25 and I knew I would live to regret buying it.

The work- day was uneventful, and I heard from Ken at about 2:00 letting me know that he was in Laramie, WY as we’d arranged the day before. Laramie is maybe 2 ½ hours from Denver, and now that I had a good idea of when he’d be in town, I could begin to plot a place to meet him.

I had hoped to be able to get to a convenient place on I-70, so he would only need to exit momentarily to pick me up, and then return immediately to his route. I was leery of that plan when, not knowing that part of Denver well, I couldn’t pinpoint locations that I was certain would be hassle- free. I decided on I-25 and 20th St., up the street from Coors Field, because it was maybe just ½ mile past the I-70 interchange, had a stop light, and he could just re-enter I-25.

Once that was set, I repacked again, foolishly eliminating food and rearranging the pack’s balance for the hike, via Light rail, to 20th St. Eric and I settled up on money, and much to my dismay I was forced to evaluate just how much money I had spent while in Denver. It isn’t a pretty picture. After the rain fly, I was leaving with significantly less money than I should have been. The beer wasn’t THAT good.

Eric and I said the goodbyes; I loaded the pack on my back, and set off. For the first time in nearly a month, I was traveling again. Officially back on the road. There was no euphoria this time; no excitement for the unknown. I KNEW what to expect. In that sense, this phase, Phase #3, felt MUCH different. I was no longer the adolescent exploring the woods. I knew what was in the woods, how to handle it, AND I knew how what I would see from the woods would effect me. The lack of that excitement was a disappointment, and the fact that I was not experiencing the same energy- lift I had at the tracks after the Rockies game was surprising. It felt like I had just woken up in the bushes somewhere and was resuming the trip.

Go figure.

I decided to forgo paying the $1.50 fare for the ride to Union Station, remembering Thoreau’s “get what advantage of her” line in Civil Disobedience. I felt like quite the Anarchist as I rode the familiar route downtown. I was in a bit of a hurry, having spent more time chatting with Eric than I’d planned to and concerned about missing Ken in case he was early.

I got to I-25 & 20th without issue and planted myself back in the old familiar spot: the ramp. I arrived at about 4 and as I waited, a panhandler returned with his handy little sign pronouncing his abstinence from both drugs and alcohol, saying he just needed “a little help“. Todd was skeptical. 

The bum was not pleased by my presence. I wasn’t hitching, holding a sign; just sitting there. He must have thought that made him look bad because after five minutes or so, he shouted across the exit, “Are you just sitting there for the hell of it or waiting for a ride?” I answered that I was waiting for a ride, but his demeanor and blatant stares were by now bugging me. He was acting as if his urine-soaked Jansport book bag marked his “turf.“ He apparently didn’t hear me, or was feeling belligerent, because he asked again. This time I replied, “I love the fucking views here, I might just have to stay all night. Is that OK with you?” 

Suddenly my presence seemed far less important. Funny how that works.

At 4:34, four minutes after he predicted, Ken pulled off I-25 to 20th St. Our plan had worked perfectly. As I climbed in the cab, I saw my new ‘friend’s’ look of utter amazement. Here was a guy who had just been sitting there now climbing into a semi. Not so astounding, I know. But HE seemed to think it was. I just waved as we drove off.

Ken and I shook hands, I explained the situation with Dufus, and we quickly settled back into our roles from last month. We got reacquainted as I settled in for the ride to Limon, where he was going to stop for the night since he’d been driving from Idaho since 5am.

Shortly after I got in the truck, the indecision concerning my destination was resolved. Ken has a friend in Chattanooga, TN who wanted a ride to Tampa. I could ride to Nashville and see Kim, and he could pick Jay up a couple hours down the road. Simple. Easy. Go with it Todd… go with it. I went with it.

We did stop at the Flying J on the far east end of Aurora, and the cashier asked Ken to take a box of urgently  needed fuel tickets with him to Limon, since they were running out, saying we’d get free dinner in exchange for the box occupying his floor. Quite a deal.


The ride to Limon was typical eastern Colorado. Not a lot to see save some dramatic storm clouds on the horizon that got more intense as we moved further southeast.

We arrived at about dusk and feasted on Steak and Salmon. The manager had apparently only intended to give us the soup n’ salad bar, but had neglected to tell Ken this before hand. That led to some mini-drama when we went to leave, but the acting manager handled it diplomatically.

We settled into the double bunked cab for the night and watched “10,000 BC” on his little DVD player while I wrote in my journal. The dominant themes as I reflected on the past couple of days were the ‘coincidences’ and the fact that I was feeling very little emotion about being back on the road. 

I also was encountering Che’s 'split moment' phenomenon; feeling slight melancholy about not returning home, and also fleeting, inconsistent excitement stemming from the recall of past experience; experiences that were precluded by similar circumstances and emotions. In short, I was having trouble unplugging from The Matrix, and reestablishing a solid connection with…you choose the term! It also dawned on me that today was the two month anniversary of leaving Santa Fe for Santa Barbara and I was heading even further away this time. Maybe #12 is lucky for me!

Ken and I set the alarms and got to bed ready for a day full of Oklahoma.

5/28/08: Wyoming!

DAY #9
Rawlins, WY


Yesterday went better than expected, and contrary to how the day felt when it started. I slept later than I wanted to, and of course drug- ass getting packed up and out Leah's door. I think it was 10:30 or so when I finally found myself walking toward the West Glenwood on-ramp to I-70 west. I hung out a the little truckstop for a while watching people before I plopped down, leaned up against the pack and waited.

I'm not much of a hitchhiker at all. I don't bother putting my thumb out or anything. I figure if someone cant figure out that I'm looking for a ride-you know, lying on a backpack at an interstate on-ramp and all... It didn't bother me just sitting there. It was a beautiful day, sunny, NO WIND, and I felt like a snake sunning himself by the road. I understand why they do that now!

I did finally get a ride after an hour and a half or so, with a kid fresh out of college from Ogalalla, Nebraska. He was on his way to Rifle, where he lives now working on oil rigs or something similar. He was a pretty cool guy, and loved what I was doing! It seems when I say "I have no idea" when people ask where I'm going, I get the big "WHOA!" of amazement everytime. I forget the kids name, and didn't get a picture, but he was a pretty good guy, and his information on route 13 convinced me to go that way out of Rifle, and get off the interstate.

I walked through Rifle, about 3-4 miles or so, while stopping at a sporting goods store to see about maps. The one I needed was $8.99 so I decided I didn't need it. Getting out of town was a breeze, and when the sidewalk ended, I sat down to take a break. While I was sitting there looking for my gum, a pickup stopped and told me to "throw my shit in the back and get your ass in here!". I was amazed how quickly that happened.

Doug had just finished his 2-week straight work week, and was heading home for his week off. He asked where I was going, and initially I told him toward Meeker; aiming low as always! But then I found out he lived in northern WYOMING, about 50 miles from the Montana line, and 45 miles "east of Yellowstone", as I would heard REPEATEDLY over the next few hours! He told me he'd take me as far as I wanted to go, so after setting my eyes on US 40, I figured I'd see how it went and if it went well, shoot for Wyoming.

"Well" is a relative term, isn't it?

As with Dennis a few days before, Doug was drinking. And I believe he was rather baked. He was trying to show me how much of an outlaw he was at first, naturally assuming that's what I was. I let him go...it was kind of funny. Although he was a bit odd, and his driving was--interesting--I soon figured he was essentially harmless, and probably safe enough to at least get me to Craig.

Our first little adventure was in Meeker, where he decided he needed a beer. We stopped at a neat little bar where he went inside and proceeded to buy the bar a round. There were 5 people there; big spender! A guy was trying to sell a carved wooden dog for $250, and I believe Doug would have bought it if I hadn't asked him "What the fuck are you going to do with that?" "Talk to it!" he said. When I didn't fall over laughing at his humor, I think he realized that he was acting the fool in trying to impress everyone with his little stack of $20's! He quickly finished his beer, everyone thanked him for the drink, and we left to continue up 13.

Doug said he needed more beer when we got to Craig, and it was there that I looked at the map for the first time since Rifle. We were 40 miles or so from the Wyoming line, and he'd agreed to let me drive from there, so I decided to get greedy and stick with Doug to I-80. Plus, I'd actually begun to like the guy. He was a big talker with all sorts of bravado and fronts, but once you got thru all that he was great. I'd find out later HOW great.

The Wyoming line came and went. I got my picture of the sign. Doug peed. I asked him if he wanted me to drive--REALLY wanting him to let me--and he let me know that he was in-charge here: "I'll let you know" in a low, gruff voice. Great. So I kicked back, and watched the scenery, which by the way was magnificent, especially along CO- 13. Better than I even imagined, and ample place to throw the tent down.

By now I planned on getting out where 789 (new name for 13) met up w/ I-80, in hopes of getting a ride, or at least filling my water supply and walking on. Problem though. There WAS a gas staion there 25 years ago, but now nothing but a fireworks stand. And I mean NOTHING. I scoped it out. Doug peed. I decided I'd keep on with Doug east on I-80 toward the next truck stop, or at least semblance of civilization. That turned out to be 25 miles down, here in Rawlins. We took exit 214 to the T/A travel center, and I had my eyes on the KOA across the interstate. Doug insisted I let him buy me Subway. I had been refusing his offers of food the whole way, but by now I was hungry and the thought of a 12" Tuna that I could split for dinner and breakfast seemed smart.

By now Doug had calmed down a bit, and we were getting along very well. He said he was glad he picked me up, and for the last 3 hours had been pressuring me to ride all the way to his house "45 miles from Yellowstone!" I must say I considered it, but the thought of going that far north didn't really appeal to me, plus I still wanted to get to US 191.

While we were sitting there eating, a woman walked over to out table and asked how far Evanston was. Through the coarse of the conversation, we learned that she was going to PORTLAND and was on a limited budget. I offered her $20 and help driving if she'd let me ride, and Doug offered to throw in $50! I thought he was full of shit...but then realized he's do it. She would have taken me, but there was now way I was getting me and my pack into her car. NO WAY. It was stuffed. I would have had to ride like Grandma in "Vacation". Too bad. So Close!! But alas...Wyoming it is.

Doug and I said goodbye, and he handed me a folded piece of paper and quickly got into his truck. I went inside to finish Dinner, and chill out for awhile, opened it up, and inside: $25. I was amazed. This guy had driven me from Rifle, CO to Rawlins, WY...bought me dinner...offered to pay for gas in exchange for my transit...AND given me $25. All I had done was be honest with him and treat him with the resepct I thought he deserved. That's the only thing I can figure.

I hoofed it over to the KOA, got a tent site, talked to Laina and crashed. I woke up coughing in the middle of the night, and today have a sore throat, and a sore shoulder from sleeping wrong! I'm hoping Leah's kids didn't get me sick.

I got up this morning, did some laundry (YES!), took a shower (woohoo!), packed and walked off at about 11:15. I stopped at a little park on Washington St. while I made my way toward the library, and as I was sitting there an elderly lady asked me if I was hitchhiking, I said "sort of", and she came over and sat with me. We chatted while I ate, and she told me she used to hitch all over the place in her younger years. We talked about the town, her son she had just met for the first time, and eventually we walked off together toward the library. She walked me all the way here! She also gave me her address and asked me to call or send a post card. Nice lady this Jeanette.

The library doesn't have a timer on the computer, so I was able to upload pics, send Couchsurf requests for Lander, WY and update this.

I think I've decided to hoof it up 287 toward Lander, then take 28 southwest from there. I really want to avoid Rock Springs, which I keep hearing nasty stories about.

Over 200 miles yesterday. Not too bad!

Wyoming

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!