Moved...

I've moved to Wordpress.

http://mattytramp.wordpress.com/

Hope to see you there.

-Matt

My Picture Book.

I recently went on a road trip to California and took a bunch of pictures with my new DSLR. I have compiled my favorites into this book which you are welcome to buy.

California

By Matthew Greenwald

Book Preview

Of course you can see all of them here for free.

Back Home... For now.

I'm sorry for the lack of updates. I've since returned to Colorado. I got back on the fourteenth of December. I completely ran out of cash and then racked up some good credit debt. I came back and I've been busy the past weeks with work and trying to find more of it. Not too much interesting happened between Puerto Rico and Now. Though there is a plan to hitch out to California soon for some warmth and fun... I'll try to keep you guys posted.

I'm also buying a digital SLR to replace my old camera so I'll start posting pictures again soon.

To keep you guys here till next time I will post something I wrote a while back. I hope you enjoy it.

Richmond - Arrest, Trail, and Acquittal.

October 18th - 25th, 2007

I had come home, too drunk, from a small party at around midnight. I was still really drunk so I went out to climb something. I had it noticed days before. I had passed it several times before and it seemed too good to pass up. It was the Sacred Heart Cathedral wrapped in scaffolding, just waiting for me to scramble up it. I got to the top pretty quickly and to my disappointment, easily, so a I sat at the top and thought of my next move. Soon I was spotted by a few scenesters who taunted me from below. Instead of realizing I should shut the hell up and climb down, I shouted at them. Almost immediately I attracted the campus police who demanded I come down from the Cathedral. Too drunk to make a daring escape and a mad dash off the back of the Cathedral, I decided to comply with their order. I made way down the ladder and into a pair of handcuffs. They charged me with trespass and sent me on my way. At this point I was pretty hungry and thirsty so I wandered over to Monroe park and then to a pizza place and raided their dumpster for a small cheese pizza. I stumbled back to Eric's and told Toohey what happened and we laughed about it. I slept pretty soon after.
When I woke up I realized I could probably talk to the folks at the Cathedral about the incident. Forgive me my trespasses and what not. I talked to a woman named Brigitte P. about exchanging community service and she suggested I return Monday. So I went camping in Shenandoah National Park and Charlottesville and returned Monday morning. My first assignment was to help setup for a senior outing. I setup tables, and then served them food. I preformed flawlessly and I also helped increase our teams efficiency in a few respects. I took it pretty seriously to be quite honest. I felt that the seniors probably expected I certain level of quality and I felt we could deliver that, so I tried my damnedest.
Tuesday they gave me yard work. I pruned trees, swept walkways, removed debris, and I ripped a dead tree out of the ground with my bare hands. I worked so quickly and effectively that I drew the attention of the workers restoring the Cathedral. One of the more senior workers said "Looking good young man." I was pretty proud of my performance yet again. I think these two days taught me to really take pride in my work. I felt I must return the favor to the good people at The Sacred Heart and I wasn't getting paid, at least not in money. So I decided to be good, thorough, and fast.
Wednesday it rained so I was stuck shredding paper. This time I was restricted by the shredder and not my own abilities. After about ten minutes of shredding it would overheat and shutdown for five minutes. At one point I figured out at what point it would begin to reach its threshold and slow down a bit using this technique I shredded for two hours without a single pause. This frenzied pace created a lot of noise and everyone on the floor eventually left. They returned much later, I realized the door on the room I was in couldn't close because of the furniture arraignment so people were sort of captive to the noise. I filled two fifty gallon trash bags with compacted shreddings and left at four o'clock.
Thursday was my day in court. I needed someone to come with me on my behalf from the Cathedral. Mike came and told the court that I had been forgiven and they no longer wanted to press charges. So my actual trial took about two minutes. I was acquitted of all charges. I thanked mike about a hundred times and we went back to The Sacred Heart. I thanked Brigitte repeatedly and then I left.
Looking back on all of this I really don't think twenty minutes on top of a Cathedral was worth nearly an entire week of my free time and all the stress and worry over the court date. I don't really regret it entirely though as I said I learned a lot about my work ethic and how I can motivate myself and take pride in my work. I think I'll be sticking to cliffs and trees for my climbing interests from here on. Not really.

Back to San Juan.

The next morning they had some bizarre trouble with their rented Jeep so the company sent an escort and she took them to the airport and me to the ferry terminal. When I got to the terminal I was told it was canceled until 1PM due to inclement weather. So I walked up to a bakery and bought a breakfast sandwich. When I got back I was surprised to see Jean from yesterday and this time with her Husband Ron. After some talking about our options we figured the wisest would be to catch a plane back to Fajardo. This turned out to be a slick idea because I'm pretty sure the ferries were canceled entirely for the day. It turned out Tropical Storm Olga had made landfall that day on Puerto Rico. On the way to the airport Ron, Jean, and I discussed our plans for the day when we got back to Fajardo. I said I had originally planned to meet Johnny, rent a car, and head to El Yunque. But now that was looking paler by the minute so I didn't really know. They said that they had rented a car and planned on going to El Yunque and they asked if I would like to come. Of course! So we took the flight back to Fajardo which lasted ten minutes in a tiny prop driven minivan of the sky.

Once there we got into the car and I asked if I could drop in and see if my friend Johnny wanted to come and that we could help pay for gas and the like so we went to downtown Fajardo. We barely made it there and I ran up to the house. Right then I caught Johnny as he was leaving for the Publico terminal. Sheer luck! We dashed back to Ron and Jean and upon realizing there wasn't in room in the car for Johnny I asked if he wanted to default to the original plan and he said not this late and so I was off to El Yunque!

We finally reached El Yunque and we went into the visitor center they watched a brief film and I grabbed a quick bite to eat. Then we headed for the trails. We drove to the very top of the park and we took Mt. Britton trail. I dashed up it with ease and explored a bit while they caught up. Then I repeated the same with the tower itself. The tower was right on the edge of a impossibly steep mountain and was about two and a half stories tall. The view was mostly obscured by clouds but a fierce wind picked up and for a brief moment you could see all the way to the coast before not being able to see twenty feet again. The forest itself was incredibly thick and without the predetermined paths it would be nigh impossible to walk through. It was very damp and muggy yet there was no over whelming odor. Some trees had a slime as thick as apple butter on their trunks and all of them had a healthy coat of moss. Palms as my suspicions proved correct were an invasive species here, brought from the distant Philippines. We also visited the big tree trail and the falls at its end, and coco falls which were stunning. At about six we left because thats about time they close the access gate to vehicles coming or going. You can camp anywhere all night, but if you drive in you have to leave by six unless you park outside the gate. I would of course recommend a visit to El Yunque but a rental car and a fair weather is a must.

We drove back to San Juan and parted ways. I took a bus back to Viejo San Juan and caught up with all of my flat mates. We all had some stories to share for the days past.

Sunny Sombe.

The day after I left for the island of Vieques (be-ah-kez) with Johnny. Once there we caught a Publico to the south side of the island and grounded in Esperanza. Esperanza and Vieques as a whole, was essentially how I had envisioned Puerto Rico when I left Florida. Calm, relaxed, easy going, underdeveloped, and very beautiful. I rented snorkel equipment from Blue Carribe Kayaks and I booked myself for a slot on the Bioluminescent Bay kayak tour. The actual Bio-Bay, as its refered, is in fact Mosquito Bay. The trip to Mosquito Bay would be very doable on your own, for free, if you scoped out its location in daylight or just waited at dusk provided you had a rental car/truck and a kayak. The owner of Blue Carribe recommended I head across the street for food, and after buying a couple of papas rellenas there I walked to the pier that was recommend for snorkeling.

Before I left he taught me an invaluable trick for snorkel goggles. Dish soap. You squirt a liberal amount into the inside of the goggles right onto the glass and then proceed to spread it all over covering as much surface as you can. Just let it dry and when your ready to snorkel just wash it out in the sea water. I snorkeled for several hours and they never once fogged up on me, nor did the soap ever get in my eyes. I imagine it would be wise to use an ecologically safe bio-degradable soap without any antibacterial agents in it as to avoid unnecessary harm to our tiny friends of the sea.

The snorkeling here was not nearly as good as that on Culebra but it was pleasing none the less. I swam all the way out to a tiny island in the bay and snorkeled there for a good while. I decided to return before the storm got any worse or before I became to exhausted to cross the bay. When I was making my way back across the bay I saw a shadowy figure down below me. So I swam closer hoping to see an old sea turtle. To my surprise it was a sting ray and the idea of it coming too close scared the hell out of me so I swam away from it. I soon noticed it was following me. Knowing it was a superior swimmer and wondering if I had invaded it territory I started to go in a new and different direction. This seemed to work as its interest wained and it faded into the distance. When I got back to the pier I decided to snorkel up and down the shore to see what I could find. I found a piece of mother of peal and some cool shells and coral fragments. I also found more angel fish and yet again they decided to follow me. So I headed further still with my new companions and I spotted tiny flute shaped fish swimming near the surface and a big school of nearly transparent and invisible fish near the boat ramp.

Satisfied with my adventures I decided to go find some food. I was walking on the beach when I saw I tiny patch of sand pulsing. I scooped out from it a tiny pinkish crab, that when on the sand was nearly impossible to spot unless it moved. Two cute girls from Ohio came over and looked it over and took pictures of it and me and then disappeared. I walked to Bananas and ordered a Pina Colada and a exquisite Jamaican Jerk sandwich with fries. I explored the tiny town a bit more and met Jean a woman from Phoenix, Arizona who was waiting for her husband to catch up to her, he had unfortunately lost his cellphone earlier and was searching for it. We chatted for a while and then I left to go explore Sombe (Sun Bay).

I walked down the road to Sun Bay and took a wrong turn and found old ruins in the forest near Sombe. Once I had accrued enough mosquito bites I fled from the forest fresh on the hunt for Sun Bay. I figured how could I miss it if I followed the shore line? So I walked down the shore. I came to an odd juncture. To my left was Sun Bay which did look quite lovely but I was in a more adventurous mood. To my right was a small strip of sand connecting this island and the next, however it was below a foot of sea water and was a very peculiar sight. The current in Sun Bay was meeting here with the opposing current but it was clearly and defiantly winning out for some reason, at least at this time of the day. So there was in essence a small salt water river running from bay to bay in between two islands. I kept on towards this tiny island and began down its mild shore. I found a long the way, several tiny trails leading into the forest. Though none of them ever lead very far. The shore was becoming increasingly rocky and difficult. Eventually it wandered up to a rocky cliff that I climbed upon and watched the sea break below. There were quarter sized crabs all over but I figured their tooth pick width pincher's could do no worse harm then a flea bite. Soon the rain determined as ever tried to sully my temporary dryness. I found shelter in the forest under a tiny tree and waited till it past. Contented with my adventure and deciding it was best to get back before sundown I retreated.

Once back in Esperanza I bought a few beers and watched the sunset over the bay and in between two islands. It was beautiful and as many times before I wish I had a camera. I waited for the Kayak tour to form and once it did we all piled into a van and headed to Mosquito Bay. Along the way the driver paused briefly on a back road and reached out to pick some wild jasmine. Its white flowers fragrance was wonderful and we all passed it around several times to sample it. A young couple in front of me said they were from Philly so I asked if they had run into Owen and Alista but they hadn't. We all got out of the van and got into the kayaks and raced out to the meeting spot in the bay. A few feet from shore you could already see the dinoflagellates lighting up around the paddles. Weak at first it grew in intensity. It looked as though every stroke sent bright sparks in slow motion swirling around. Closer to the "hot spot" it looked as though the paddles were wrapped in a ghostly greenish aura. Once at the spot we anchored and got into the water. It was bit cold as it had been raining earlier and this apparently decreased the dinoflagellates luminescence but it was still pretty cool. If you make a similar motion to the kind you perform while making snow angels it looked as though you actually became angelic however brief. We all played with the dinoflagellates for a while but we all became increasingly cold and as a result less interested in the tiny creatures and more in getting the hell out of the cold water.

We all headed back to shore and then drove back to town. I walked to the end of the board walk and sat down to get some food in what turned out to be, for me, an expensive restaurant. So I ordered a bowl of seafood chowder and a beer. Moments after placing my order the girl from Philly invited me over to their table. Alice and Akos introduced themselves and I sat down and we all talked until the restaurant closed. We talked about their adventures backpacking in Europe and also of Akos' hilarious road trip on motorcycles behind a van to a grateful dead cover festival in California. They told me stories about trying to find an apartment during the dot com bust and we talked about music for a good while too. It was a fantastic evening. When the waitress came with our bills they even paid for mine! On the way back to the van I asked if I could stay on their couch for the night since I was tent-less and it was very rainy that night, and they obliged! Thanks again guys!

The Spanish Virgin Islands

Johnny and I went woke up the next day and caught a bus to Rio Piedras at 6:30am, then we took a Publico (shared taxi) to Fajardo on the advice of a local. Our goal for the day was to get to El Yunque and then return in the evening. Once in Fajardo we began asking around for rides to El Yunque and after about an hour we concluded that there were none affordable to El Yunque. I suggested we at least find a place to stay when we come back since we came all the way here, for $9.50 round trip mind you. He agreed so we went to a library and we happened upon the most helpful librarian and one of the most helpful people I have ever encountered. She spent about an hour with us making phone calls and talking to friends. She found a little old lady two blocks away that would rent us a place for $25 a night on a favor. She apparently used to rent this place but when she began having medical problems she stopped altogether so this was very kind of her. Especially considering the fact that we are two Americans and total strangers. We kept asking around about rides to El Yunque and eventually we discovered that there truly are no rides to El Yunque. You can buy a tour package for $85 but this means your stuck in a big troublesome group and restricted to 9AM to 1PM. Or you can hire a taxi to take you about two miles short of the entrance for $60 but you had better be able to miraculously find a ride afterwards. We planned on repeating our journey the next day and then renting a car upon arrival in Fajardo.

I woke up the next morning at six and saw a light flick on in the kitchen. My room has a window and outside that is a tiny courtyard across from the courtyard is the kitchen so I have a direct view of the whole. I knew it must be Johnny so I threw on my clothes and went to the kitchen. He was gone by the time I stepped in so I went to his room and knocked a few times. No answer, suddenly I heard some voices downstairs and I heard Tina the landlady saying goodbye to someone. So I snatched up my stuff and left my key on the Fourier table. I dashed to the bus terminal and caught the bus to Rio Piedras, the number 1. I didn't see Johnny there so I thought maybe that it was the second bus. I knew I could catch him at the Publico terminal and "worst case" at the flat we rented. When I got to the Publico terminal still no Johnny and this time it was the first van for the day so I realized that it was I who had left him in San Juan not the other way around like I had originally thought. There were two girls dressed for the beach standing by the van and they said they were planning on catching the ferry to Culebra. I said what the hell and went with them. The ticket for the Ferry was $4 round trip and we made it to the terminal with plenty of time to spare.

The ferry ride was an adventure unto itself. The sea was a bit rough that day due to winter winds. The ferry bucked and rolled and we all got drenched in sea water. There were a couple of times where I swore it was gonna capsize, but it never did. Little by little most of the people went below deck to the sealed cabin but those of us remaining were getting our moneys worth. This one guy and I were just laughing hysterically at the massive plumes of water washing over the passengers and the deck. Another dude was really concerned about a capsize and I laughed and pointed at the rows of lifeboats strapped to the bridge and said "That's what those are for." I went below to use the bathroom which was in heinous condition because the toilet water was sloshing out every few seconds. While I was below I saw that most of the passengers were totally sick. One kid I saw earlier was on the floor desperately clutching a paper bag and he had a definite greenish hue to him. I went back topside and enjoyed the remaining fifteen minutes.

Once on Culebra I rented snorkel equipment at $13 for the day and took a Publico to Flamenco beach. Once there I met Owen and his Girlfriend Alista both of whom were from Philly. We all took a hike through the forest and over the mountain to get to the less populated beach on the other side that's renowned for snorkeling. It was a beautiful hike with amazing views of the surrounding islands and a distant view of Puerto Rico's east coast. Once at the beach I stashed my pack and donned my snorkel gear. I swam out to the little buoy (a milk jug strapped to the reef) and began snorkeling.

The approach to the actual reef was sudden and startling. At first all I could see was a shadow and some movement and then the clouds above me blew away and I came closer. The sight made my heart race and I felt an enormous rush of adrenaline as I swam over the reef. There were fish every where and a tiny school of Angel fish began swimming with me. They followed me for a long time as I explored and when I crossed to the ocean side of the reef they parted. I saw a magnificent fish that looked like it had a rainbow painted on the side of it. I was so excited by the whole experience that I swam back to the beach to see if Owen and Alista had began. Alista was having some troubles coping with the idea of swimming out to sea without a life vest or lifeguards but I assured her it was very doable. This was of no comfort and so I gave up and me and Owen walked to the far side of the beach and snorkeled at a spot he was told about. It was an incredibly rocky coast line here and getting in the water proved surprisingly difficult but the cuts and bruises we got were well worth it. At first I split off from Owen. I found a massive drop off and couldn't see the bottom of it so I followed the wall and found massive coral shaped like hands. Each "finger" was about as large as I am (six feet). There were little fish all over these coral and the coral over here was much more alive. Also there was a ton of enormous fan like plants waving in the current. The colors were splendid. I popped up briefly to see how Owen was faring and he was up too. We both agreed that it was well worth the walk and the dangerous conditions. He said he had found a really good section and said I should follow him so off we went. He swam between two narrow formations and I followed briefly loosing sight of him. When I emerged on the other side there were dozens of towers and more even larger fingered glove formations wrapped in the fan like leafs. It was a beautiful sight. We decided a bit after this segment that it was time to head back to catch the Publico to the Ferry terminal. I left before them and took my time eating some delicious tostones, chicken, and beans and rice. I briefly napped at the terminal with a wonderful view of the ocean on a sun warmed bench and the ride back to Fajardo was brief and calm. Once back I was reunited with Johnny and we shared our stories.

The next day was spent mostly for rest and preparation for the next. I bought my ferry tickets a day early as I had read and heard that sometimes lines can form at 6AM. Two whole hours before the ticket office opens. These rushes are unpredictable and so I planned accordingly. I got the tickets and a tasty treat from the deli next store and headed back to the flat. The treat (papas rellenas) was a stuffed potato which is in essence a fried ball of mashed potatoes wrapped around a center of seasoned beef, chicken, pork, shrimp, lobster, conch or really any meat you might want. This particular vendor only had beef available. After my day of preperation I retreated back to the flat and enjoyed a quiet evening.

Ponce and San Juan

When I awoke I was in Ponce. I was also incredibly disoriented and dazed. The rainy night before was not the first night where I hadn't gotten much rest. In fact I hadn't really slept since I left my Aunt's house. Luckily I bought a foam camping roll the night before so I could sleep better on almost any surface. I tried to hire a Publico (shared taxi) but instead I got an expensive Taxi by mistake. The driver took me to a small park surrounding an old Cathedral and in front of City Hall that was somewhat close to the Publico terminal. It was a really strange experience. Everyone was speaking Spanish and all the trees where wrapped in Christmas lights but it was balmy out and the decor defied all convention. There were strange chirping noises coming from just about everywhere and there were stray dogs milling about in very social ways. I later discovered the chirping to be the call of the Coqui frog. I tried to sleep on one bench but a cleaning crew came and started using leaf blowers so I moved to the other side of the park. There I attempted sleep on a bench next to a fountain but it soon became to cold to sleep so I walked around some more to warm up. I put on my winter coat for about four seconds before realizing it was still soaked, cold, and quite pungent.

Eventually I found a small spot under a palm behind a burger king. I woke up several hours later and wandered to the Publico terminal. I met a driver going to San Juan and he said if we left now it would cost forty dollars or I could wait for other passengers. So I waited, and waited, and waited some more and I think around noon enough people showed up but I can't really remember too well because I slept most of that time on a lovely little bench. The drive was also spent sleeping, but at one point I awoke in the middle of a mountain range and it was stunningly beautiful. The mountains were very steep, but they were covered from summit to peak in beautiful green foliage. Some had large rocky cliffs jutting out from them too.

San Juan was really weird and the park I got dropped off at was even more bizarre then the last. There were tons of homeless men and women here and even more stray dogs. I made my way to the Library at the University of Puerto Rico. There I found accommodations and some good cheap eats on their internet computers. I was leaving to find the buses when I was greeted by Spyridon. He was a young painter from Tennessee and he was here setting up his exhibit for the University. He got me into the back areas and I got to see the exhibit before it was finished. The gallery was amazing. They had painted posters from a cultural revolution that had occurred several decades before. Puerto Rico was railing against cultural assimilation by the United States and it was very apparent in these posters.

Spyridon also showed me his work which was very religious and it had a pretty unique style to it. He worked with oils and had painted two pieces which were on display outside in this sort of courtyard area. I helped him gather some leaves and flowers to place around the pieces and his friends showed up. His friend Peter and his wife with there three year old son David. We all helped Spyridon setup his display and then Spyridon drove me to Viejo (Old) San Juan. He dropped me of on Calle de la Tanca and I walked to the Castro Guest house where I had my reservation. The Castro was wedged between a Chinese food restaurant and a up scale night club called The Noise and sat opposite a popular bar. I got a room with a balcony for forty a night and bought a cheap bottle of Chilean wine and some ear plugs. I threw the doors of the balcony open to let the wonderful night breeze in popped the ear plugs and started on the wine.

I spent several days exploring Viejo San Juan and Candado Beach. I never did find a job there. Although I did get to see some wonderful things and meet some wonderful people. I met Jaqi from Massachusetts. She lives in Mueyguez and is trying to find a job as a physician. We met at the breakfast bar in the Sheraton Hotel, which is funny because neither of us were guests there. In fact her friend Evans wasn't either. But we all thoroughly enjoyed the muffins and papaya juice regardless. I also met the activists camped in front of the controversial Condado playa (beach) apartments. According to the protesters and most of everyone I've spoken with, the owner, an asshole American no less, bought the land illegally by bribing the government and then began building the apartments. The land itself was a public beach, which was enjoyed, in particular, by less wealthy individuals. I just happened to be walking by and the protesters offered me rice and chicken. They had a spicy senorita making all of the food which I thought was a bit curious, but regardless it was the best rice I've ever had and the chicken was good too.

I crossed the bay bridge and met a young scientist taking water samples, he said the bay was really healthy. He told me a story about the apartments. Apparently one night the protesters climbed the crane and attempted to sabotage it. The police came to stop them and they swung the crane around and climbed down the cable into waiting kayaks. They then paddled across the bay and were apprehended. However the police let them go which in my opinion is a testament of who's on which side.

I spent some time meeting my roommates, Isreali from Florida and Alex from Germany. They are both pretty mellow guys and we've gone on a few missions together. One night we went to a big hotel near the bay and scored four or five pounds of choice beef from a conference that had just ended. We at like kings that night. Alex introduced me to Johnny from Wichita, Kansas and I asked Johnny if he wanted to split the cost of visiting El Yunque and he said he did.

Leaving Florida

I had spent several days in Port Saint Lucie and I had grown tired of searching for my lost equipment. Every avenue a dead end and fraught with heartbreak and disappointment. So I gathered my new old equipment and began walking east. I walked for most of the day and well into the night. I finally reached the east end of Port St. Lucie and spotted a cabbie. I asked him how much it would cost to take me to the nearest bus stop I knew of. He radioed in and said fifteen dollars. I told him this was out of my range and said goodnight. I began asking for rides outside of a Walgreens nearby him and after no success he drove up and said he would do it for five. So off we went south on Highway one.

He used to be a treasure diver and he loved it, but its a young mans sport and he is no longer young. He told me that many times he dove on old wrecks off the coast of Florida. He found chests of gold and that it was just as beautiful as the day they poured it. He warned me of Barracudas and said once he was in open water and discovered that they were distinctly attracted to the silvery shimmer of bubbles from his mask and that when he ceased breathing they would back off. He also said once he was spearing fish and was returning to the surface, when a barracuda bit the fish in half and bit him, but not too badly. He lived in the UK for a year or two with some family and toured Europe on a sailboat and said it was the best time of his life. He was so caught up in his recount that he blew past the stop without either of us even noticing.

He left me at the stop and I bought a cheap kids bicycle and slept between two shipping containers in the lot. I woke up at about five in the morning drenched in rain and shivering with cold. I snatched up my gear and hurried to shelter. After some delicious toasted bagels, I began riding south. I rode from sunup till sundown and finally reached Jupiter. I entertained myself along the way by singing songs that cropped up in my head. I hopped on the first bus and went south to the Mall from there I got on a bus to the Tri-Rail and went south towards Hollywood. I had a clear decision to make and an opportunity to really screw things up for myself. So naturally I took the chance and went to the Airport and bought a ticket to Ponce, Puerto Rico. A whole two weeks ahead of my planned departure. I figured since I was running out of money I might as well go there before I finally really did run out. The flight was two hours long and I slept through the whole thing.

On a Mission.

I'm back in Florida on a single ride from Jessup, Maryland to Love's at Ormond Beach, Florida and then others into Fort Pierce and finally arriving at Port Saint Lucie today. The best ride was by far a Cuban driver, Marco, who bought me breakfast and told me to call him when I needed a ride to Fort Lauderdale International (and when I wanted to meet his daughter, he he!). The weather's just as I left it, fantastic, and now I'm on a mission to find the mystery driver with all of my belongings. Regardless of whether or not I find him I am leaving for Ponce, Puerto Rico December 12th.

Also I've updated my trip map.

Just thought I'd give you folks a quick update.

Take care,
Matty

Stem to Stern.

Luckily the incident previously mentioned could not have been timed better. I was headed to Fredericksburg, Virginia to meet my folks and then head to Harrisonburg to meet with the family for thanksgiving. So my old man brought me an old backpack and sleeping bag and some changes of clothes. So I am back at it! I am in Jessup, Maryland waiting for the weekend lull to end so I can catch a ride south to Florida and then a flight to Puerto Rico.

Yesterday a took the light rail into Baltimore on a tip from Tony the janitor at TA. I spent the day in the inner harbor. I traveled here before many, many times with my folks when I was a kid. So I knew my way around pretty well. I met the author of a book titled "Lexington Market." She and the guy with her recommended I visit it. He said you can buy seafood for dirt cheap. So I left to walk around some more and I spotted a Coast Guard ship in the Harbour that was open to tour. I approached it and the girl checking admission asked if I had a ticket. I said no but offered her a dollar to see it. She refused my offer so I walked back down the gang plank. Wishing I could get on board the Tanney (this is actually a picture of it in Baltimore Inner Harbor) I waited for a large group and dashed up the plank and to the right and ducked into one of the doors.

It had a distinct odor, very common in old military and aviation equipment. The first sight of the interior was at once over whelming and mysterious. The ceiling was unsurprisingly low and the corridors narrow. There were bundles of zero gauge cable, tiny alarm lights, and pipes everywhere. Everything was labeled and had a purpose which was truly impressive. There was definitely a distinct style to the ship. I spent my first moments aboard the old cutter in one of the seats next to the bridge. I felt as though I was commanding an assault on Baltimore. I was high up, alone, and behind the 5"/38 caliber gun wearing my crazy parka, cold wind blowing, so it was an easy fantasy to have. I headed back down, not ready to depart from my "special discount" tour I went back in side the ship this time down the ladder into the crew quarters. Again very tight but not suffocating like submarines. The bunks where too short for me, and I had a tough time figuring how little stuff I could fit in my assigned locker.

I found the mess hall and it was getting really eerie. It felt like it could be home but it was a ship. I also felt like I was invading someones personal space, like it was sacred ground not be tread on. Although I don't think this feeling was related to the cheap admission. It was more that this was manned by a lot of men whom I believe now are all dead. I kept on walking deeper into her hull. I found the engine room and was completed enthralled with how they had driven two propellers with relatively thin shafts attached to massive engines which now lay silent. I realized at once how loud these would be if they were operational. I tried to go further but the next segment was directly beneath the admissions girl. So I back tracked.

I noticed that Engineering was a small office located directly adjacent to the two engines. I pitied the souls confined to that small hot loud space. I saw a gold E////O painted which according to a placard was not an award but a fifth consecutive for efficiency and operational readiness. Perhaps why I was standing aboard the sole survivor of pearl harbor. I kept back and re-entered the mess hall and this time I found the boiler room. Perhaps the most intense and eerie room of the whole vessel. A small tube running vertically with Coca-cola/Pepsi painted was according to a sign the "only exit from the boiler room during an emergency or fire." I saw the uniforms of the crew and they all seemed like tiny men to me.

I visited the armory to the 5"/38 gun. There were dozens of shells neatly arranged around a slot. The room was appropriately lit with crimson lights and was adjacent to a bathroom. I saw the barber shop and also the armory for the ship with a few .50 caliber armaments and shell cans. I went topside once more before departing. I spotted the crows nest and wished I could get to the stern but the ticket girl would surely spot me. I gave the Taney one last look and departed down the gang plank the same way I entered behind a bunch of Scandinavians.

Once again on leave from the Taney I headed for the fabled Lexington Market. It was a good hike back to downtown. Upon arriving my senses were again overwhelmed. I started stumbling around inside, kind of in awe of the variation from vendor to vendor. I found a Hawaiian place and got some shrimp for $2. I liked them so much I went back and got the shrimp dinner for $4. It included mashed yams and sweet beef noodles in addition to the tasty breaded shrimp. I made my way back to catch the light rail back south just in time to make it back and enjoy my meal. I don't know how "Hawaiian" the food was but it was delicious. It was a damn fine day.

Separation of Tent and Stake.

This story is a bit coarse so take warning.

I had fully realized after being dropped of at the Greyhound station that I was shit out of luck. I was freezing, and I met a young girl in the truck stop who lent me a bright orange poncho and wrapped me in a sheet. She was a sweetheart but goodness was she lost. The poncho/wet-sheet combo was not working so I bought a $13 blanket that was hardly worth more then $3. I was really missing my hoodie and all my other things at this point but there was nothing I could do. All of my possessions were no longer mine to use, they were miles and miles away. I kept recounting the events of the day in my head and couldn't believe them. Not at all. I had met him at a gas station in Port St. Lucie. I had evaluated my options, an empty truck, and old woman, and him. So I walked up to him and tapped on his window. "Please don't be asking for fucking money." No I don't panhandle I said. He asked to see if I was carrying any weapons and I show him that I wasn't so I put my stuff in his Chevy and we drove North for Ft. Pierce.

He said it seemed strange that I would just pack up and leave. I kept trying to explain to him the circumstances surrounding my leave but it didn't sink in until we were eating lunch at the Flying J and his cellphone didn't stop ringing. We talked for a half hour or so and then he decided he was going to take the day off. We kept splitting six packs of beer and then we drove to Hutchinson Island. We kept talking about what it was like to be in my situation and he became increasingly anxious and frustrated with his. We sat on the beach and he complained about how monotonous his life is and I assured him he had his blessings but he disagreed. We drove to a BP gas station on Avenue D and Highway 1. It was a strange situation unfolding.

The guy 'Jean' walked up to us and I rolled down my window to see what he wanted. He leans in and looks at me and says "I know you, we were in Hollywood Jail together." This being untrue I say I was never in Jail, anywhere, ever. He looks at my new acquaintance and repeats his mantra. Driver says oh yeah I know you, playing along. Driver gets out and walks over to him and they got out of earshot so I still have no clue of what they said to each other. But Jean ended up getting in the Chevy with us and directing us to his house. We were deep in the ghetto now and Driver was getting really nervous. Driver slowly gets coaxed inside the ghetto and the house and I follow. So were all sitting around a kitchen table and everyone is nervous as hell except me and Cynthia, Jeans sister. So I am getting more and more confused by the situation. The black guy Jean takes out a couple of white nuggets and rolls them into a joint. I say "Those are crack rocks, I'm out" and I walk outside and wait for Driver.

I find out shortly that Driver has decided to cheat on the wife he said was so lovely earlier. Hes going to find a whore. I tell him not to leave me and he assures me he wont. He returns after a half hour later and I get in the truck. Jean doesn't like that I have picked the front seat, confused and now angry I foolishly decide I don't want to give it to him. His friend pulls me out of the SUV and tells me to sit down. I tell him I prefer to stand. I tell Driver not to let them walk all over him. This offends Jean's friend and he asks me why I feel this way and I try to explain but its like trying to talk into a bullhorn. Driver meanwhile is in a full panic and is telling me not to express my opinions in "the hood" and that I will get beaten. I try to reassure him that I'll be fine. Driver and Jean leave to get Gin and Juice. They never return. It starts to get late and my cool wears off so by now I am pretty concerned I won't ever see Driver or my Pack again. I mention that I might call the police and next thing I know I am being whisked away to the outskirts of town. Jean's friend tells me that I probably regret saying that word, police, and that I need to get out of the car. I tell him that I'm not getting out because I have no idea where I am but he insists. This goes on for about ten minutes and then he says that he can drive somewhere where they'll only ask once. So I get out.

Now I'm figuring its time for the police. I've done all I can to avoid it but now I have no choice. So I call them and wait, and a single officer shows up I tell him just enough of the story so I don't incriminate anyone because Christ as soon as they find out I'm a witness to something they'll threaten me with being an accessory until I cave. So he drives me to the BP where we met Jean and we ask the clerk for the security camera footage and he tells us that the cameras are fake, every last one of them. So the cop takes me back to where he found me and I thank him for his help. By now I'm really pissed off and I'm willing to try anything to get my stuff back so I walk back into the ghetto. Bad fucking idea. Apparently despite me never having done anything to these assholes they decide I'm scum and that I'm a cop. So they slowly but surely become increasingly violent and unpredictable. One woman swears I'm a cop for sure. "I knows 'em when I sees 'em." she screams in my face. "He'll have our neighborhood burning by tammara! I'll kill him myself!" Well apparently you don't 'knows 'em'. I ask the clerk of the store that I've taken refuge in for the phone, he tells me hes already dialed 911. He tells the dispatcher where I am and I tell her I need to be escorted out immediately and that my life is in danger. Two cops show up inside of a minute and one of them is a real squat Latino, really muscular. This struck me as completely necessary for him to survive his beat. He took my ID and my story and drove me to the Greyhound station.

Hollywood.

I hitched a ride with a really old black trucker from Georgia on down to Ormond Beach, Florida. From there I got a ride from Donald, yet another black trucker, down to Hollywood, Florida. I can't believe how many rides I've gotten from black truckers now, its unheard of in the hitchhiker community! Donald, despite my protests, bought me dinner. Then he called up a girl he new in Miami who came and gave me a ride down into Hollywood. They dropped me off across from a vacant lot with an old four story parking garage. I thanked them a dozen times and then hopped out and started exploring the area. I knew that in a big city my best option was hiding my gear on top of something tall and inaccessible. So I set out to find a ladder, fire escape, or anything that I could use to get on top of something. I never did so I settled on the garage. I figured that since it had an operational elevator that most people wouldn't use the stairs from the fourth floor. I was right. I spent the first night meeting the ocean and the wind from Tropical Storm Noel, she now goes by Hurricane Noel. I liked her much, much more as a tropical storm. I slept in an abandoned construction site, between a stack of unused benches and a giant bush.

I began exploring the boardwalk as soon as I was awake. I spent the day fruitlessly searching for a Library, sadly no one knew where it was. Now that I have found it I passed it several times. I bought a cheap bike from Walmart for the I shit you not price of $59 with taxes. It shouldn't have surprised me though when the handlebars fell off on the ride home to my parking garage. I locked up my new possession and met Soul at the sunglass shop across the street. She was a young girl from Israel and I got really fucking lucky finding her because she was so helpful. She bought me pizza and introduced me to Debra who has let me stay with her until the storm dissipates. Debra is from Detroit and like Soul and I, came to Miami looking for a change of scenery.

Sorry to disappoint residents of the northern states but the ocean water here is a frigid 82 degrees fahrenheit and the air measures about the same. There are beautiful palm trees everywhere, ripe with coconuts for me to eat. Though I haven't had a great many opportunities to enjoy the scenery yet because of this diabolic storm system. I hope I will tomorrow though.

The Fest.

Wow the fest was fucking awesome. I mean goddamn. Three days of punk and beer and slight starvation. The first night was a bit rough, I got separated from Eric and Derek so I wandered around Gainesville drunk and alone. This isn't the first time that I've done this but its one thing to start the night alone and its another to end it alone. We started the day by meeting most of the other festers on top of the Holiday Inn, next to the pool. Everybody was drinking tons of cheap beer and laughing and yelling. It was fantastic. The atmosphere was perfect. We left the hotel later to go see some bands, most of the bands the first night were mediocre. I caught Naked Raygun later on into the night, they kicked ass. I ate some freegan sushi some girl gave me and stumbled around Gainesville. I met coyote on a side street. He let me sleep on his couch despite his girlfriend's protests. We stayed up late swapping conspiracy theories and watching youtube.

I woke up, and stumbled out into the sunlight. I heard a door slam behind me and I ran back to find Coyote behind it. He asked what I was up to and I said I was going to see some more bands. I thanked him for the couch and took a piece of paper. I wrote something like:

"Dear Eric and Derek,

I am walking between the hotel and here, the car. Please find me so I can eat.

Thanks,
Matt."

And stuck it on the car. I gave up on seeing Eric and Derek after about twenty minutes and walked on down to the Market Street Pub. There were a few bands playing at noon and I happened to find Eric and Derek. We saw Pink Razors and they put on a pretty good show. I went on to see The Underground Railroad to Candyland with Eric. We saw them a week before, in Richmond on their way to the Fest and I liked them so much I figured I ought to see them again. It was a great performance and the whole crowd got into it which is always great. They don't take themselves too seriously so of course they were wearing between them a lizard, pikachu, and gorilla costume. After this we got some pizza at Five Star, behind common grounds. Then we went to see Gaslight Anthem, and Fake Problems. Both bands put on a really good show and I want to see both of them again. Fake Problems especially. Then we all went to The Venue to see Dillinger Four. We had to wait till Avail finished playing but it was worth it. Dillinger Four managed to put on a really good show despite blowing two amps. They remind me a lot of NOFX except that the rest of the band doesn't really talk at all. We went to 1982 and saw five more bands before heading to the backyard of these three girl who love festers.

They spray painted some signs that said "Camp Fest 6." At first it was a small gathering, but it grew quickly and two young punks brought a stolen keg of Guinness Stout. It was a rowdy crowd and about five of us dedicated ourselves to getting the Guinness out of the keg. There were two dudes with guitars so they provided ample music for us to enjoy. One of them played stuff as diverse as Lit and The Offspring, the other played songs exclusively by Frank Turner.

The next day was our last so aside from a quick stint at The Atlantic and Derek leaving to see Lopan Takes Japan (Less Than Jake under an alias), we spent the full day at the second street bakery with the intention of seeing This Bike is a Pipe Bomb. There was a microscopic stage outside under a cheap tarp in a parking lot behind the tiny bakery. We saw a full lineup solely comprised of bands signed to Planet X Records and it was great. I think it was the best part of the weekend for me. Theres really two kinds of "punks" the kind who take everything really seriously, and the kind who don't take anything nearly serious enough. I find myself much, much closer to the later category. We saw Ghost Mice first, who were so full of heart and passion they reached the back of the crowd even though they were only playing on an acoustic guitar and a fiddle, completely devoid of an amplification mind you. Then we saw Defiance, Ohio who I wish I had heard of before so I could sing along to their songs. Finally we saw This Bike is a Pipe Bomb and they rocked so damn hard. I couldn't help but smile during the entire show. The were so funny and great. Matt and Kim played after them, and while I did really like their show, they weren't really quite my style.

Eric and I left and walked back to the downtown area. Upon arriving we both decided we were much to hungry to pass up food so we went to El Indio at the other end of town and ate some $3 burritos. We all left shortly after and Eric and Derek left me at a Truck Stop in Georgia just across the state line.

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.