Scooting on down to Florida.

Tomorrow Derek, Eric, and I are going down to The Fest 6 in Gainesville, Florida. Oddly enough I wanted to go to Gainesville anyways just because its got a live punk culture, but when I accidentally discovered 'the fest' one evening, when I was checking the time of a $5 show, I knew I had to go. So thats my next stop. I'm not sure if I am going to head back north to Asheville or not.

Cool encounters.

I went to the National Folk Festival which was pretty nice. I caught a few bands and got some good barbecue. My favorite was this old man who played the Autoharp. He was really spirited and into his music. The Festival was intertwined with some historic sites. There was an old foundry and armory on the shore. Eric and I walked along an old bridge over the James that had been restored and converted into an outdoor exhibit about the Civil War and its relation to Richmond. On our way out of the festival I spotted some traveling kids so I told Eric I would catch up with him later. Kenny, Eric, Romeo, and Lexi had come from all over and they were all cool. At first we were all a little standoffish and Romeo didn't trust me at all but we all opened up. Eric helped to break the ice a lot with generic questions about my itinerary. They were planning on catching out that night. They were going to find a train that was headed for a barge that would take it across the Chesapeake to Cape Charles. They said I couldn't go with them but they said I could play dice and hang out with them. So I sat and played high-low and talked and joked with them while they drank cheap rum. I later found out that they were also headed to Puerto Rico for the winter. They said that they would be in cities and bars mostly because they are a band and wanted to play. Romeo plays Mandolin and wants to buy a Guitar. He said he'll spange for it and I believe it. Romeo and Kenny were really funny because they had just read Ava's Man by Rick Rick Bragg so they were on a helluva sexism stint. They were drunk so they were extra vocal about it too. It was especially funny to watch the reactions off people passing by. Kenny had been beaten up by girlfriends before so this probably contributed to his attitude. Lexi and I tried to convince them to no avail and just kinda shrugged it off. Romeo was hilarious because he was really drunk, dark, Spanish, and pretended to be racist in spite of it. Eric was interesting because he was really mellow but his face was tattooed all over. He looked intimidating but if you knew him you'd know he was harmless. Lexi was pretty and pretty reserved the whole time. Kenny was really funny and said all kinds of strange things. It was a blast hanging out with these kids. I left when it got dark out and they were almost ready to pack up and head out to their campsite to wait for a train and roast weenies. I hope I see them down in Puerto Rico.

A Map of My Journey.

I created a map of my journey so far for everyone to see.

I will periodically update this so everyone knows where I've been. I change the colors of the markers to show different trips and I put little green houses up for destinations.

Minooka to Richmond: Part One.

Andy dropped me off at the Hinsdale oasis. Where after a couple of hours a dude gave me a ride south to Joliet, Illinois about four miles outside of Joliet. I hiked into the city and found a community college. I searched for Travel Plazas and found one in Minooka, Illinois about seven miles west of Joliet. So I walked to a seven eleven and started making a sign. I was coloring in the N as a Canadian asked me where Minooka was. I said it was seven miles down I-80 west and if he could give me a ride there. He did. We got to talking on the way there and he said he is retired. In his free time while his wife works he buys cars on Ebay in the US and then drives them up to Canada and sells them. I asked for some tips on how to do this seeing as I've wanted to do exactly that for some time now. He dropped me off and I thanked him.

I walked over to the Pilot which was a smaller one compared to some I've seen and hid my stuff. Alejandro walked past me carrying a pack so I asked him if he was hitching and he said he was. He was trying to get to Sioux Falls, South Dakota. He was in Greenville, North Carolina and his pickup blew a head gasket. So he started hitching west. He used to live in Fort Collins with his ex girlfriend but he found himself in Jail a few times and decided to leave. He was a really odd guy, he had a notebook where he kept everything; pictures, discharge papers from the army, discharge papers from shelters and county jails. He read one aloud proudly that said “Bipolar” among other things. He said he hadn't slept for five days and that he was really fucking tired.

He was a bit shorter then most men, about five four maybe. He was Apache, Mexican, and Caucasian but he looked Apache. He had an odd approach to getting rides. He would sort of yell at the drives which I thought was a terrible way to ask for a ride, he claimed that this filtered out pussies and cowards. He said it would get him cooler drivers. It probably does but goddamn he gets rejected a lot. We sat by the lot and drank some beers and talked about things while our clothes washed and dried in the Pilot. Eventually as the night wore on I trusted him less and less and hid my pack even better. I also started working harder to get a ride out. Coincidently he was the one that got me the ride out. He pulled a driver over rather rudely and demanded that he give me a ride east. I stood awkwardly behind him trying to gesture my lack of association with Alejandro. The driver asked where I was headed I told him Pennsylvania and he said he was going to Toledo, Ohio. I said I'll think about it.

Alejandro went inside briefly so I ran off to grab my pack from my spot. The driver came out I said goodbye to Alejandro and I was off to Toledo. As we approached the rig the driver said that the passenger side door was jammed. This immediately alarmed me. So I got in the driver side and climbed across. We started driving and I noticed the dash of his truck had been decked out with custom chromed apparati. The knobs had been changed to six shooter chambers with bullets and and everything was lit with low red lights... The lining of the cab was velvet too. I stealthily tested the lock on the door and it was completely broken. This is right around when I broke into a cold sweat and a silent panic. He didn't look strong but anybody can hold a pistol. I realized too that I left my knife at Andy's. I asked him if I could test the door just to make sure it would work in an accident. Sure enough he told me to trust him that it would work. I was pretty damned scared by now but we got on the interstate and started moving. After a while I started to trust him and realized I was gonna be alright.

He dropped me off at a Pilot in Toledo, Ohio. I started walking around and found a nice spot behind a birch tree near a cornfield. I said to myself as I was bedding down that I wished this wasn't so damned easy and I made the mistake of asking for a challenge.

When I woke up it was raining and my stuff was already wet, so I packed up everything and dashed to the TA. I stashed it inside and got some hot soup. I started making my rounds along the fuel line and eventually I got a ride from a fellow from Lithuania. Once we were on the road he started talking about his past and how he was a troubled youth. I later realized he thought I was troubled and possibly on the run from the law. He said he was in a gang in Lithuania and he fled from a prison sentence to the US. He started a life here and then he got into trouble again. He said he got into a drunken fight with a dude and cut him up pretty good with a knife. The guy wound up in a coma and the police came for him so he fled again. He apparently ran to a church and asked for help, of course all they could do to help him was to make him a man of god. He spent hours talking about how god changed his life and left me at a truck stop in Youngstown, Ohio. I tried to tell him about how becoming Atheist changed mine.

Minooka to Richmond: Part Two.

I got a ride from Youngstown to Conyngham, Pennsylvania from a small guy who cursed about everything and everyone. He cursed and chain smoked all the way to Conyngham.

I walked over to the Pilot and saw John standing on the corner looking out of luck. He said he was headed south to his Brothers house to kill a month and then find work somewhere. I could tell he came outta Philly from his strong accent. He had a helluva twitch and would loose control of his neck and head frequently and start jerking sideways. It looked painful, he wasn't crazy just some kinda nerve disorder I guess. I never asked because it didn't seem Polite. He mentioned that he was really thirsty but he got kicked out of the Pilot. I brought him some water and he thanked me a million times. I started working the fuel lines again and I was about ready to post up for the night. I went back inside and saw a guy I asked earlier talking to a big man who was sweating like mad. I got to talking with them and they said “We gotta get this kid a ride hes real nice, theres gotta be someone here.” So they got on the CB and asked around nobody could though and the big guy, Dan, was headed to Toledo and the skinny guy, Shane, had to drop a load off nearby but was not headed south.

Shane and I sat in his condo cab and watched a movie while we listened to the CB. We never found anyone going south, so I thanked him for his trouble and bedded down in a small wooded area. In the morning I found Shane still parked in the lot. I knocked on his Cab and he said he had to drop his load at a nearby town and said I was welcome to come with him. So I packed up my stuff and came with him to the drop. We waited, and waited, and finally a foreman came up and handed him the papers and said they finished unloading. He got on his Quallcomm and got a new route. He had to go north to Taylor, Pennsylvania and get 44,000 pounds of quaker oats and then, lucky me, go south on I-81 right past Gettysburg, Pennsylvania! I wanted to go to Gettysburg because I knew of a place to stay and they have apple orchards all around town.

So we set out on our journey north to Taylor then south to Chambersburg. All the way talking and joking. Late at night we finally reached Chambersburg and he let me out. I thanked him and we exchanged phone numbers. Shane makes trips down to Florida from Nashville every other week so I've got a guaranteed ride south.

Before I went to bed I thought about going to Gettysburg and then about how hard it might be to get out of Gettysburg so I decided to go South to Richmond, Virginia instead to stay with my dear old friend Eric. I got a ride from a hilarious stoner truck driver headed south towards Front Royal, Virginia. He let me out at a plaza and I got a ride from an old trucker who took me all the way to Richmond. I learned a real hard lesson that night about not falling asleep before your drop. This is the way I remember it. We were headed down I-95 South which would have taken me right through Richmond and by Eric's house. He stopped to fuel up and we left at which point I nodded off. I woke up some time later as he was pulling over next to Exit 28 B on I-295 South. He let me out here and my mistake was not saying “Thanks but I don't know where I am. You need to leave me somewhere safe and not on the side of the interstate next to an onramp.” So I got out and I walked six miles through the dark with my pack hoping to find something or someone. For a while I was furious and thought I would have to walk thirteen miles to get to Eric's. Luckily he let me out somewhat near Richmond International Airport where I was able to find a ride to Eric's house from an old man and his grandson.

A day at the zoo.

I spent a day at the Lincoln Park Zoo, and it was wonderful. I took a lot of pictures and these are my favorites. Theres also a few of the city thrown in there too. If anyone visits Chicago between June and September I highly recommend you visit this place. Its beautiful and admission is free. The Polar Bear Anna was by far my favorite, she was just so playful and fun to watch.

Alive and very well: Part One

I'm here in Chicago or more accurately Hinsdale, Illinois. A west suburb of the great city. I'm staying with my friend Andy and his wife Nancy in their fancy Penthouse apartment. I spent all day today in the city walking around and bearing witness to some wonderful and bizarre acts. I'm sure most of you are wondering how I got here so I'll update you on my itinerary. I left Denver at six in the morning with Michelle we traveled along I-70 and she cut me loose in Lawrence, Kansas. I then thumbed for an hour or two by the I-70E on ramp. I got picked up by a woman whose name I've since forgotten, she had just left her mother for whom she is now caring for since she has been recently widowed. I'll told her I was from Denver and she said she had just come from there. She said her brother had just been sentenced to 276 years in prison for repeat offenses. Some of which were Kidnapping and aggravated assault. I didn't inquire further about that. We just chatted until she dropped me at a small truck stop. I waited there about ten minutes before an independent trucker showed up.

Cecil took me all the way to somewhere in Missouri about ninety miles out of St. Louis and I asked to be let out at a Flying J so I could sleep. I was getting pretty tired since I had been up since four A.M. and I was making due with about three hours of sleep. Cecil and I shared some really good discussion about Puerto Rico, and his history there and about things in general. But as is the tradition of the Midwest he had to go and ruin a good thing with religion. I just sat in awe and silence as he made it very clear that unless you are what he deemed a Christian you were part of a cult. He told me about how women were the first to sin and that they are all inherently evil. He went on to degrade Blacks and also Hispanics and this was about the time that I decided I needed to part ways. So I asked if he could leave me at the next Flying J and said that I really appreciated the lift. I roamed a bit at the stop and found an old hotel in between two soybean fields and also a tiny forest that I couldn't reach due to a impressively thick field of stickers and tall grass. I bedded down under a tree by the lot and in some tall grass.

When I woke up I realized the importance of this moment. The act of me actually waking in a totally foreign place with no one I knew. I loved it. I was exhilarated by it. I packed my things, and headed for the cardboard bales. I cut off a flap and scrawled St. Louis on the front, and PLEASE on the back. I was at the on ramp for maybe twenty minutes when Pat picked me up. Pat was awesome. Pat listened to old hard rock, and he didn't bitch about his wife which seems to be very common among truckers, or at least the ones who pick me up. He told me a story about how he was up near Berthoud Pass outside of Denver when a Snowstorm shutdown the highway. He was waiting with a state trooper behind him for a salt truck to come. A semi on the west bound side lost control, crossed the median and plowed grill first into the front of Pats rig. He said he woke up in a mess of glass, radio equipment, and debris. He apparently uttered "How fast was I going when I nodded off?" to the trooper and then went unconscious. He said this was his only accident, ever. He is an owner/operator out of North Kansas City, Kansas. He said he loves it because he just drives for the fun of it, he doesn't even need the money.

Pat and I drove to Pontoon Beach, Illinois. Despite protest he bought me lunch and headed out for "Indy" or Indianapolis. I hung out around this stop for a good while and met an unsavory character from Ohio. Much like Cecil and other assholes he finds the need to utterly and obviously lie about shit constantly. Not exaggerate, lie. I'll never understand it, and I'll never find the patience for it. I found a good exit in the middle of a story about how he scared kids with a six foot long chainsaw in a pickup truck. He seemed to get the hint when I walked away mid sentence. I layed down on the concrete away from windows and watched the monarch butterflies flitter around the building in the afternoon sun. After a long while of lazily advertising my need for a ride I realized what I was doing wrong. I can't just sit next to a sign and look half asleep expecting a ride from someone. I need to be active in my pursuit, of course this was equally dangerous, if I came off as pushy I would surely and rightfully be rejected. So I politely ask drivers where they are headed. West or south, most will say. Can't take riders most others will say. Occasionaly, even when rejected they will persue conversation. Which honestly I adore.

The best truckers I have met haven't given me rides. Butch in Troy, Illinois for example. I had just been thrown out of a Pilot by a fatman with a lousy moustache and a red shirt three sizes too small, so I wandered accross the street to the TA. I walked up to Butch and asked him where he was headed. "North west" he said "otherwise I'd take you." He was waxing a big beautiful bright red semi adorned with ornamental rivets he described as "stuborn." He spent most of his time trying to get the wax off these little round rivet heads. He had just shared his aniversary with his wife and was going to actually celebrate it Tuesday with her. He has thee daughters, the youngest of which, 17, had problems with alcoholism since she was fourteen. He said she was just about through it he thought. I sure hope so. We talked for a long while and then I headed for the on ramp. I was there for a little while and then I got picked up by a Polish man, Christopher. The first thing he said to me was "I don't speak much English." We still shared some jokes and talked a good bit though.

He was a bit strange though because he left me right on the shoulder by Effingham, Illinois. I was bit startled by this and because I was still a bit fresh to the hitching thing, I didn't fight him on it. But looking back I should have asked for him to leave me in a more appropriate place. I walked up to the town and started wandering around. I ended up stashing my stuff in some bushes behind a bowling alley. I explored this small Interstate town, with only brand name establishments. There were three excpetions to this, a small motel, the bowling alley, and one restaurant. The rest of the town some twelve odd business were major. I bought a tub of yogurt for protein and a couple of beers. I hunkered down by my spot and enjoyed the evening thoroughly.