4/3- Getting My Walking Legs Back

Times are feeling good again, really good. At the start of the day that enthusiasm was not near as honed as it is now at the end. I'm laying in another ditch, tucked under another tarp snow fort in anticipation of a storm said to be coming, but right now its a beautiful sky that I'm taking a long exposure of while I write this. This, however, is the end of today's story.

I'll confess that over the past few days I've been putting on a bit of a suburban family smile for y'all. I think its come out a bit in the posts as well, but I've been between honestly happy to finally be out on the road, no obligations, and just cut free to drift and relax to that creeping sense of loneliness seeping in that I had finally shaken this past year. The distance from Denver life, my friends there, even the simple things like warm sleeping arrangements, and full night sleeps, do instill belonging, even family. The overweight pack has also been rubbing my lower back sore and raw. I had forgotten these things a bit. It was the lack of enthusiasm for this reality that I woke up to this morning next to my dirt wall.

It was, however, a beautiful and warm morning when I emerged from my bivy around 10am. I lounged and enjoyed my earlier rise than the morning before leaning back against the berm and finishing off the banana baby food and the Ritz crackers with half a jar of peanut butter. This was another reality woe, though, the lack of fire to cook something hearty and substantial for breakfast. I remember the depression and hopelessness I felt back in Wyoming on my walk when I didn't have more than one or two decent meals in a about a week and a half. This wasn't that bad but I was starting to sink a bit.

After two hours of loafing about and just not wanting to strap Ole Blue back on, I finally did and shuffled on down the country lane. I returned to my old walking method of timing myself out for breaks. Anal as that sounds it really does help motivate me to walk and get me back into just enjoying whats around and forgetting the weight and pain. I went for an hour, barely, crashing at the first guard rail I saw when it got close to being an hour. This was a bit demoralizing, since when I was getting into Seattle five years ago I was walking over three hours straight just to kick off the day.

I sat there for about forty five minutes wondering if this whole thing was honestly a good idea or not. I wasn't regretting it so much as much as I was just wallowing in a lack of focus and energy.

I then decided I was being a little bitch and allowing myself to do so. I ate a Clif bar, that sorta made me feel a little better. I got up and walked over to look at the nearby river without my pack, that also sorta picked me up some. Finally, I dug out this feel good, liquid energy bottle of pep that my friend Karen gave me at my going away party and strapped on my pack guzzling it as I strode on down the road again.

Generally I hold little faith in these GNC type guru totems, but this has much to do with me being health food ignorant and resistant. I drank that stuff down and, despite the taste of berry Splenda, I was singing and dancing like a racist characature in a folksy Disney country movie. Life suddenly became quite nice.

Moseying on down this lane of mine in my mood of good nature now, I started to receive visitors. The first of which was a young trio who drove up behind me beeping away in celebration of their arrival to me, Mr. Happy Walking Man. I thought I finally had myself my first ride. They thought they'd found themselves a drifting stoner with tales to tell to ease their woes of boredom. We were both sorrowfully mistaken, but I was quite pleased that they wanted to offer. They went back their way and I continued on mine.

I rambled on a little ways further as the road gently swayed beneath me around hillocks and tree groves, the weight of my pack oddly not bothering me as much any more. I saw eagles, or something, enjoying the wind in front of an afternoon moon as the road flattened out just before connecting with I-25 again. It was here I got my second visitor, Frank.

The first thing Frank asked me was if I wanted a ride. I accepted and while I was getting in the second thing he asked was if I was going to kill him or not. I reasonable query. I told him no then felt it good etiquette to ask him the same. With those pleasantries out of the way we spent the rest of the ride all the way down to Pueblo talking movies.

Frank was a cool guy, I liked him. I haven't hitched, really, in about 15 years, and even that was just a ten minute hop, which I suppose so was this, but I was into it. It was strange just suddenly being where I thought was a long shot to get to before Todd picks me up Sunday. You have to understand, I come from the mentality of my walk where I turned down usually four or five ride offers a day. I nearly turned Frank down out of habit.

Anyway, he was really cool and passed his exit on the north side of town just to drop me off on the south side so I could walk out of it easier, or catch another ride. I gave him one of my website cards, so hopefully he'll pop in here and say hi on the guestbook or something.

Standing now, suddenly, in Pueblo, in front of a Loaf 'n Jug, I immediately shot for the pay phone to upload yesterdays post. No go. Second, I found a table by a plug and set my phone charging while I got a coffee. I spent the next hour talking to Todd, Ang, my Mom, and tried my sister as well.

By 5 or so I was ready to truck again. That energy stuff was still kicking and I was beaming on top of that with the recent kindnesses that were showing up. A mile down the road I got a bit more of it.

This time I was walking up a hill on Santa Fe Ave looking for a route to a frontage road when Dan pulled up, got out and came around the car to me and asked if I was hungry. I wasn't sure what was going on so I sort of stuttered out a "sure" thinking he might be thinking I'm homeless by circumstance rather than choice and not wanting to take advantage of that possibly misconceived generosity. This was a familiar issue from my old walk. He didn't seem to care, he just wanted to help me out. He offered me money for food, then a ride which I took him up on.

He, his wife, and her cousin, from what I gathered, had just come back from a road trip to Maryland and back. While they drove me around trying to sort out the best place to drop me off Dan told me his tales of hitching as a 14 year old from when he ran away from El Paso where he grew up.

His sympathy to hitchers was born out of correcting the wrongs done to him, it seemed. He looked like he was probably of Mexican decent and while waiting for a ride as a young teen he was hit by three beer bottles. Dan summed that up simply by saying something to the effect of "sometimes people just aren't so nice". Seemed he liked being the nice sort.

They dropped me off in a perfect spot right on a road paralleling the highway. The building to my left was the last one in Pueblo and in front of me was a flat road of open land. I gave them all cards as well, so hopefully they'll pop by too to say hi.

By now I had about an hour or so of sun as it dipped low over the mountains in the west. I was merry by this point and had finally, fully shaken off that odd funk of starting out. I'd heard from Ang that snow was expected again tonight, but at the moment it was about 65 as I strolled down next to the highway. On elderly couple had apparently heard the same. As my last visitors for the day, they pulled around in the road to ome up to me with a coat out the window saying they noticed I wasn't wearing one and that I'd need one for the cold tonight. They were adorable. I thanked them and ensured them that there was indeed a warm coat tucked into my pack, but that it was just too nice at the moment to be wearing it. When they drove off I noticed they didn't turn back around in the original direction they were going when I thought the first spotted me. They must have seen me before and come after me to warm me up. As my sister says, if you put the good energy out there it comes right back to you. Exploring that is what I sometimes have to remind myself that this trip is all about.

By nightfall I found a swank little hideaway amid the brush. I set up a more structured version of my snow fort from a few days ago. I also had a long talk with Todd and then my sister, Wendie, about all of this going on. I then set my camera up to shoot the moon with the aperture wide open before writing this. That was at 10pm exactly, its now 11:48pm. I'll post the results when I get the film developed. Then maybe we can start selling pictures on here and actually earn our way through drifting as originally planned.