7/12-7-31/09: Santa Fe Interlude

In 2008, my “interludes” while traveling did not go perfectly. They generally degenerated, after a few calm days, into impatience and a mad searching for signs & answers as to what step is next. This year has been different. My visit home in May was quite nice, and the rest of July continued that theme.

Once off the bus and in the apartment, I literally exhaled and collapsed from mental exhaustion. I proceeded to sleep and do little else for the better part of the first week. Chris and I had left our futures open-ended, and didn’t communicate at all that first week as he settled into whatever Denver held for him, and I basked in the old routines and familiar surroundings hoping to do a bit of a study of what had changed from a familiar perch. Perspective is a constant battle.

The first thing I noticed was that I was in no way clear that I wanted to return to the road anytime soon, if at all. I had told Laina and Chris that, on some level I was afraid that confronting my age-old demons in Michigan would leave me motivationally impotent after being the frustration-fuel for so long. I had attacked this peculiar, inwardly directed anger and seemingly neutralized it, but was afraid complacency would now take its place. Someone asked me once what motivated me to “succeed.” I was surprised myself to learn that it was indeed this anger and my healthy ego needing to “show people” something. Externalization and adapting an identity-through-praise; pure, unadulterated ego and an attempt to fill a cavernous, festering sore with someone else's skin. No wonder it was infected.

The end of this cycle was when I hit a mental rock bottom in 2004, which led to meeting Chris via his website. These two events directly connect; it was the first time I seriously considered jumping into a backpack and setting off to eliminate life’s fat in an effort to see what was truly necessary; what was real. It was also around the same time I began to take Thoreau seriously, which then led me to Gandhi’s ideas on unfiltered truth. Authenticity. I wondered now what that pursuit meant, and whether it still involved backpacking around the country and beyond. I could not answer that, but I knew in my core that something had at least fundamentally changed as to the method and purpose.

Laina and I went camping, of all things, the first weekend I was here and once on the road had a great time driving toward Pecos Canyon and sitting around the little fire drinking beer. It was the most relaxed I could remember being in a very long time, and we chatted about all sorts of things past and future. It was the perfect escape even though it was only for one beautiful, calm night. I had also had an odd conversation with Chris that Saturday afternoon. He had seemed quite lost, not exactly sure what he was doing in Denver, and I was of little help. We had truly disconnected and were on our own little quests where neither could help the other. I was quite sure he would figure it out soon enough, and it took about two days until he was happily announcing a regained energy and focus.

Over the next couple of weeks, things began to sort themselves out. After the events of June slowly but surely began to make their way to the appropriate places in the recesses of my mind, I began to notice a tangible difference in my thinking. With a gentle nudge from Shelly, I began using my father’s last name; changing it on Facebook and various email accounts as a way of getting other people (and myself) used to it. Essentially, that is the name I use now and will complete the legal paperwork soon. That was a rather bold step for me, considering that I have been quite the thorn in the saddle of some people over the past couple of months. I have no idea how Pam and Kim have reacted to it, still not hearing from either since April. Right or wrong, on some level I kind of hope it stings as a reminder every time they see it. I also began one final blog transfer, although to date it is still not ready for full activation. I have been delaying while trying to decide rather or not to begin an actual full-blown website. In all likelihood, this will happen, in URL at least. This will be the third and final one. I like the procession of the three, from Running with the Wind, to Te Nosce (Know Thyself), to this new one.

I also began to find myself keenly annoyed when I occasionally would find myself looking backwards, beyond May 20, 2008. My focus is now forward, and integrating what I had learned over the last 15-months into whatever is to come. This would turn out to be some massive, unknown foreshadowing, and was quite astounding for a man historically haunted by ghosts. Not even real ghosts as it turned out but of course, those fabricated by victimist-thinking, creating little make-believe scenarios, and then letting them become a framework for an outlook on life and identity. Pathetic? Yes. The annoyance stemmed from just REALIZING how fucking pathetic and misguided it really was. This is obviously an important conclusion, but it also opens up what could be Pandora’s Box. Inside the box: "What is next? Have the travels of the last year and the visions of future adventures sprouted from within this rusted, rotting framework?" Tough questions to ask, but they obviously needed to be. I was afraid that this was the source of the misgivings about setting out again.

Chris and I had a good conversation around the 25th where we candidly discussed the future and what it was each of us was hoping to do. I did not let on about my questions, and thankfully so because things were rapidly changing. He had begun making a ton of progress bouncing around Denver, having several discussions with Robert, the Post-Apocalypse class teacher I had met in March, about a pseudo plan that was developing. This “plan” entailed riding with them to San Francisco then Seattle on what sounded like a bit of a boat scavenger hunt. Yes. A boat. Penny (Robert’s girlfriend) and Robert had made plans to quit their jobs, hop in their veggie powered, self-contained blacksmithing van, and head toward the Northwest, presumably to seek out like-minded people and begin unplugging from what is viewed a steadily collapsing system. A system that at the same time is clearly closing in on all sides. The boat? A sailboat that would eventually be capable of sailing at least to Central and South America, and at most crosses oceans. The trip to San Francisco would be to network with friends-of-friends who would “be more than happy to teach us to sail it.” This conversation shot my energy level through the roof and we quickly found ourselves scheming ways to re-connect in August heading toward Wendie’s place on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State, perhaps via the Bay Area. It slowly became apparent that perhaps I’d had enough of wandering for wandering’s sake. Now maybe it was time to get busy building something. Building what? Well, THAT IS for another post. Sorry Steve-O!

After this conversation, things seemed back to normal and we tentatively set August 4th as a date that would see him depart Denver for his “week alone in the mountains.” In the interim, we could discuss ways to meet somewhere. Somewhere like Boise, and Lynn’s place? Penny and Robert’s ideas triggered further discussions about my friend Amber in San Diego. She has continuously suggested that she “may” be interested in joining us if /when we venture into Mexico, or further. She holds dual citizenship, speaks fluent Spanish, has WWOOF-ing experience in Italy, and would be a huge help to a vagabonding troupe of gringos speaking next to no Spanish! Amber’s trouble is her family, and the fact that she is 21. No problem for me, since she does not act like a ditz, but she has traditionally been torn between going to school and living her life. Her family is also Hispanic, so there is a pressure to remain close to family. A pressure that Whitey does not always comprehend. This sent us on wild conversations about possibly meeting Penny and Robert in places like Moab, Flagstaff, Taos, or anywhere else, that may put the four of us on course toward San Diego.

Toward the end of the month, these “plans” began to get a bit more complicated due to the simple and obvious fact that we are four people who hate making plans. The obvious question then is how do four people in three different places (Penny and Robert are bound for S. New Mexico 8/9) connect… without plans?

Are you seeing a lack of cohesiveness here?

Friends, this is the aforementioned “Limbo” and a good example of your author’s feeble attempts to manipulate the fates; forgetting…again…the all too familiar reminder to, all together now, SIT DOWN & SHUT UP!

On August 1, 2009, your humble scribe would be grabbed tightly by the metaphorical throat and slammed into his seat, complete with duct tape around the mouth and wrist to force further introspection that is more genuine and a long overdue--but now possible--evaluation of purpose and ego. What will follow is for me easily the saddest and most dramatic event to date, including 2008. You folks in Denver and Colorado will take a keen interest in this when it's finally posted.


I did it to you twice Steve. In radio, they call these teases! In Te Noscestan, we call it preventing an overload.

6/29-7/2/09: Sit Down & Shut Up

Sunday night around the fire was profound. Chris and I had discussed several times how difficult it is to grasp the concept that we as individuals are NOT the center of the entire universe, despite the fact that our eyes make it seem we are! When serendipity or "fate" is discussed, it's often from the perspective that these events only involve or happen to us, or because of us. That's the ego at work, and oftentimes we forget the obvious fact that others also make decisions and live their lives, thereby affecting the paths presented to us. Their application of freewill sometimes requires us to simply sit still until they play things out. With my ever evolving mastery if the English language, I describe it as being put in a state of limbo and told to "Sit the fuck down, and shut the fuck up!" Ever the wordsmith, I.

If you're unable to let go of the ego's need for control, this limbo it will feel like confusion; you'll be unclear about which path to take. There's a simple explanation for that: It hasn't been decided yet, or you're waiting for someone else on the path to come to you. There have been several examples of this, both this year and last, with the most dramatic this year being with the Church Lady the day Chris's mom decided not to pick us up in New Jersey. Last year's preeminent examples were in McCammon, ID and Randleman, NC. Chris and I have talked at length about it, but it has been one of the most difficult lessons because it requires continuous neutering of the pesky ego: a practice in patience. Sunday, we remembered it and decided to put it to the test. We resolved to sit still and let things happen, while eagerly anticipating Wednesday to see if some dramatic event would unfold. That's exactly what we did.

Monday was spent playing softball one last time, and again sitting around a small campfire chatting. Tuesday was even less eventful, except for yet another campfire. The conversations on these days, however, were quite enlightening. This was a time for us to both reflect back on the past 3-months, and begin to finally grasp exactly what we had experienced as a whole, AND to apply some lessons and ideas as we move forward. Ideas about the next phase became a bit more clear as we chatted about Denver, Santa Fe, Boise, Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, England, and even Mexico. Most significantly, we decided to tell someone about this revelation on Sunday. We told Bob we were going to sit tight until Wednesday, thinking something significant was going to happen. If nothing happened Wednesday, Bob would drop us off in Indiana either Wednesday night or Thursday morning. All that was left was to see if it did...

Did it ever.

My brother Mike responded to that 10-day old Facebook request. I immediately sent him an email telling him that I was planning on leaving VERY soon, but that if he was interested I'd love to meet him and would arrange my "schedule" around it. Shit, that's WHY I'm here, after all! He replied that night and said he was definitely interested in getting together before we left, but needed to find out if he was getting a three day weekend for July 4th. If so, we could get together Friday. He wouldn't know until the next day, but after chatting for an hour or so on Yahoo, it was clear that I was going nowhere just yet-even if I needed to wait thru the weekend.

I really liked Mike. Through our little online chat, he and I traded a few stories as we began the now-familiar process of comparing notes, and hitting it off quite well. His reminded me of the response I had gotten from my cousin, Dewey, when he first found out I was related to him. This was NOT the Mike I expected, although to be fair, he's also easily the sibling I knew the LEAST about. I got his number, and made arrangements to call him Thursday night to see about Friday. I immediately called Shelly to let her know what had happened, and of course she was thrilled.

Thursday was understandably a bit restless. I devised a scheme where we could possibly meet Mike in Coldwater rather than Hillsdale on Friday, and would ask if he could drop us off in Angola, IN where I-80/90 comes through. If Mike couldn't make it, perhaps Bob would get us there instead. Either way, we could get on the road Friday.

I finally drafted the email to my father, which I had mysteriously been putting off four four days. I laid out the time line of events, and exactly who I had been in contact with and for how long. In it, I could now also tell him that Mike and I were in touch, and possibly getting together. I hoped that this email didn't reverberate too much, but at least it was the truth. At least now people may be able to speak freely, if they choose to. That can't be a bad thing, and neither can the man knowing who stands where. I sent copies to Shelly and Lynn, and decided to let Mike know when he called. After this, all there was to do was prepare to leave and wait for 7pm to roll around.

Mike did indeed get the day off. Friday was a go. I was stoked. I've never had a brother and I was about to meet one...and apparently a very cool one at that. We had a nice chat on the phone, and he liked the Coldwater/Angola idea. He asked if he could bring his daughter, Ally, and her mother with him so that they could all go fireworks shopping, since they were going to be in Angola. Another niece? Hell, yeah!

Thursday night was a going away party of sorts. We had another fire in Bob's yard, and drank a whole lotta beer. Ian and Travis hung out for a bit, as did Bob's neighbors. No phones were sacrificed, so it was a good night, yet it was obvious that I was ready to go. Somewhere around midnight I mentally checked out of Hillsdale. Unfortunately, I didn't check into bed until 4:30!

6/12-6/15/09: "A Moment of Realization is Worth a Thousand Prayers"

Ben & Brad had insisted on coming to Shelly's house in Ohio on their way to the Detroit airport Friday to see her cats. Shelly had lived in Boise for a short of time and they had gotten to know Baz the Cat pretty well. There wasn't a lot of time, but having lunch was nice sendoff , and it was good to hang around them a bit more before they returned to Idaho. I let them know that Boise was on my list of places, and that I'd see them again before they went back to school in the fall.

My primary goal for this entire Michigan visit was to be sure that I left with no questions to be asked, even if the answers came via omission. I like to use the analogy "Water thru the Pipe". Put enough pressure behind it, you'll find the cracks. I intended to make myself as available as I could, and make every effort to allow people show their character; good or bad. A clear choice would be given, and we'd see what they'd decide.

Shelly was the catalyst for this, and unfortunately for her, she was also on its emotional roller coaster. She had been hoping to set up a couple of reunions over the weekend, still holding out hope for at least the two of us having dinner with our father. There was also new, rather unexpected hope surrounding our oldest brother, Skip. She had contacted Skip's wife, Kelle, and learned that she herself was considering trying to contact her own "long lost" brother, who had been given up for adoption. Kelle was very interested in finding him, and since this was something that was happening in his own world at the same time, it seemed possible that Skip would be in the right mindset to meet me. Kelle agreed to chat with him, and as Saturday approached, we were waiting to hear the verdict.

This felt quite familiar, and it had a familiar ending. When Kelle relayed to Shelly that Skip "wasn't too keen on the idea" it set off a domino effect of realization. This was the final piece of the puzzle. I seemingly had everything I needed to finally begin drawing long overdue conclusions, and they were based on reality as opposed to speculation. It would appear that despite the fact we share DNA, I had missed out on very little growing up other than an emotionally barren desert! Despite all the talk of "getting together" before I had left New Mexico I had heard nothing from Pam or Kim, and now had since been given a stiff arm by both my father and brother. It was becoming clear who I was (or wasn't!) dealing with and, while painful on a base level, it was also clear that I was indeed "the lucky one" to have been spared the baggage. Despite proclamations of "victimization" by my father's "inability to communicate and deal with them" they were themselves in fact that "mirror" of what they claimed to hate. That hypocrisy was blinding, and my questions about who these people are were finally being answered. At this point, I was totally unimpressed beyond Shelly, Lynn, and her boys.

Surprisingly, with this realization came a stunning freedom. With the bar set this low, it's much easier to take what I've gotten, move on, and attribute the disappointment to the simple fact that the rest suffer from an emotional, even human, deficiency that has nothing to do with me. It also further solidified another growing realization about the "American Dream" and the fairytale concept of "family" and, more importantly, "normal." We've been fed an idea that we're supposed to live up to the impossible standard of "Father Knows Best", "Little House on the Prairie", or any number of these other images of the happy, tranquil, "normal" little family. Some families function better than others, to be sure, but dig deep enough and I believe you'll ultimately see thru the illusions, walls, and fronts. Ward cheats on June, Wally likes Meth, and I'll bet the Beaver is a cutter. The wholesome, perfect family is wholesome, marketed bullshit. Worse yet, it's as unattainable as Barbie Doll physique.

These notions of "normal" result in outrageous expectations, and a sense of failure when you don't quite measure up. "Normal" is a Hollywood production that is marketed, then sold, to keep us chasing the unachievable: a faux idea of "happiness", and where it comes from while at the same time exploiting simple human imperfection and insecurity. I'll let you infer as to who benefits when the masses are chasing ghosts, and some will say that's cynical. I'd counter that quashing these "Notions of Normal" is liberating and the first steps toward freedom. It allows you to be happy with the best YOU can be and accept who YOU are. What better path to happiness and contentment than doing the best YOU can, accepting your faults, and telling "normal" to fuck off?

Another surprising realization was that with this acceptance came an unexpected level of forgiveness. I was disappointed, yet no one' s perfect. I believe that when we can accept the fact that every family unit, every human being is flawed, imperfect, and that "normal" doesn't exist, then we can on some level even APPRECIATE the flaws each of us have INCLUDING our own. In my case, I began to sympathize rather than feeling victimized and, after a day of self pity, I felt some long-held anger finally begin to subside and that old, familiar hole actually begin to fill. I never understood the Buddhist philosophies on forgiveness and ego better than at the moment I realized this was happening.

I was also, for one of the very few times in my life quite proud of who I have become. I had shown courage and conviction in this case and had shown character that has been missing from the rest of that family, save Shelly and Lynn. I had offered myself up, risking the likelihood of another painful rejection, in a relentless pursuit for "Truth." Vitam Impendere Vero. "Facing fear is the beginning of wisdom." That Bertrand Russell!

I felt very bad for Shelly, however. It dawned on me (after my little pity party, of course!) that she was taking this very hard. She knows her family is far from perfect, but I believe she had hoped that this month would provide an opportunity for some healing, and steps toward being a bit more of a functioning unit. With my father's unwillingness to have me at the BBQ, Pam & Kim's blatant indifference, and now Skip's failure to respond, she was resigned to the fact that it probably wasn't going to happen. Once I could see the forest thru the trees, I saw that she had shown an incredible amount of courage herself and risked many of the same feelings of rejection and failure that I had. She showed an extreme, rare character, and I hoped that she would take a sense of pride out of that. I myself was very proud to have her for a sister, even though in my self-absorbed, burnt out mental state, I was incapable of showing it very well!

The rest of the weekend was quite uneventful, as I typically isolated myself as I processed everything, and resisted the urge to write (vent) on it until the dust had settled in my mind. As the weekend concluded, I had a sense of closure and it began to feel as though I was ready to move on. To put a neat bow on everything, I sent a Facebook friend request to the last remaining sibling, my younger brother Mike. He was the last one I had yet to contact, and I didn't want to say to myself later "what if."

The "Michigan Adventure" seemed to have played itself out, but we had made arrangements with Shelly to be around her place again the following weekend. That genuinely felt like overkill at this point, but there was still no clear path as to how else proceed. Chris and I decided to go back to Hillsdale for the week to goof around and see if there were more things that needed to play out--as is usually the case when we seem to be in limbo. Sometimes, we need to sit down, shut up, and let other people live their lives for a bit! We did get a huge laugh when I started receiving pictures from Ben highlighting his flight home! He was, indeed, getting his $100 worth!

7/5/08: Portland, OR

What a boner of a day! That's what happens when you get to bed at 4:30, eh?

Dave took his daughter to have lunch and catch a train to Olympia, while I stayed behind and continued to update this, and seek out possible ways to earn some money while I'm here, to no avail so far. I also decided that tonight's my last night at Dave's place at the marina. I've thoroughly enjoyed it, but am trying very hard to leave too soon rather than too late thereby learning some lessons from the experiences with Florian & Eric!

The entire day was spent on the deck typing, nursing the mild hangover & fatigue. I really needed the Internet time though! This thing takes a lot of time to update!

I've been trying to connect with another Couchsurfer here in Portland to possibly stay another day or two to further explore employment, but that doesn't seem to be likely, so as things stand now, I'm strapping on the pack tomorrow around midday, hitting up REI for Clif Bars, a grocery store for peanut butter, honey, tortillas, and Raman, then going to Border's or another bookstore to get a journal insert then heading down the road.

I'm not 100% sure which way exactly. Probably Hwy 14 in Washington though. That goes thru the Columbia Gorge area and will give me time to decide where I'm headed, which as always now will depend on money. I should be able to sustain myself for another 2-3 weeks as is, but to go beyond that I have to earn in the neighborhood of $250-$300 to get back on track. Thanks landlords. I'll spare you the rant!

Some of the ideas so far, if I can figure it all out: Michigan, Maine, Nova Scotia; all on the way of each other. There's US 2, which goes across the entire northern tier of states into the upper peninsula of Michigan straight to the Mackinac Bridge. Then there's always I-84, I-80, I-90, and I-94. I'll probably avoid all of these though in favor of state and US highways so I have the option of walking rather than depending on rides exclusively.

I feel a bit unprepared for this leg of the trip. I've had Oregon, and Portland as a goal since I got off the train in Santa Barbara and now I'm experiencing a bit of the indecisiveness that plagued me in Wyoming and Colorado. If you have suggestions, post a comment!

Portland is a great city, and I believe I would enjoy spending a lot more time here. I love Oregon in general, probably more so than any other state I've visited so far. The people are so damn authentic, and the state has an old-school feel to it. Almost like I remember things being when I was a kid. They appear to shun the plastic facades of many of places, including Santa Fe and almost all of California, in favor of an aura of authenticity. That really appeals to me of course, as does the raw beauty of the place.

Hwy 1 and the 101 are must sees. If you've ever thought about that trip and wondered if it was worth it, wonder no more. These roads remind me a bit of a modern day Route 66 with better scenery! It's very rare that reality exceed my expectations, and so far every leg of this trip up the west coast has done that.

My expectations for EAST of here however are MUCH lower! I still have a bad taste in my mouth from Wyoming, and see it staring me right in the face again. Either that or Montana. At least if I end up in Rawlins again, I'll know where NOT to camp!

Maybe I'll call Cesar tomorrow and see where he is!

Check back over the next few days, if you've read this whole thing you know that these are the times where the script tends to be abandoned in favor of improv!