10/17- Leann to San Fran

I met Leann just about first thing in the morning. I woke up in my little nest haven tucked in by the tree, packed up, crossed the street to the gas station and brushed my teeth inside. All of this was around 6am or so, under a very foggy, dark dawning sky. So when I crossed the road to stand with my thumb out in this spooky atmosphere at about 6:30am I was really surprised when the first truck that past me pulled over, and even more suprised to see a really cute single girl inside saying hop on in. It was to be a good day.

One thing Jay had told me when he dropped me off in the Mecca was that within minutes I would probably find myself with a ride to Ukiah, but that I likely wouldn't want to go there. The place was such a good hitching spot that if I held out I could quite likely find a ride all the way down to San Francisco, where I was trying to get to. Before Leann said hop on in, she told me she was only going to Ukiah. Sounds good, and in I went.

Leann was a really cool chick. Right away we got into talking about hitching and traveling, as she was an avid expert at both. Now at 28, she had settled back in to Cali for 5 years building her own house up in the mountains. For the five years previous to that she had been hitching all around Mexico, Central, and northern South America on and off. She stay down there for several months, then come back up to replenish her funds before heading back south again. In high school she had also been an exchange student in Ecuador for a year. Clearly a fondness for the Latin American world.

It wasn't long before we were in Ukiah and she let me out by the ramp. I was sad to see her go so soon because it seemed like we had a lot to talk about, but as I got out she said something I half caught that if I was still here when she came back she'd pick me up again. I'd missed where she said she was ultimately going, but it settled nicely as I sat by the ramp for a little under an hour with no luck at all. I even had the dirtier variety of road kids start to cluster by me which I think was not good for my hitching market.

Sure enough, Leann swung back by again and picked me up like I was an old friend waiting for a ride. We moved some plants around that she'd just bought for her mother and arranged a spot for my pack to sit comfortably before we took to the road again. The destination I'd missed was Santa Rosa, about 60 miles south, so now we did have a good long time to chat. Among one of our first topics was that dirtier variety of road kids I had just left.

Obviously I'm all for leaving your job, your house, your stuff and roaming around for long periods of time. One thing I have a major problem with, though, is the stereotype that generally is involved with this sort of lifestyle, and is my main reason as to why Kerouac and I just don't see eye to eye; although I hear I might like Ginsberg. What I don't believe in is an abandonment of responsibility and respect for others. It seems with this lifestyle comes such a level of personal freedom that there is a tendency to not give a shit about anyone elses freedom. Reading On The Road Kerouac seems to become a complete dickhead when he gets together with his buddies and starts stealing cars, using and ditching chicks, and abandoning friends when they need him. This then becomes the archetype that others want to follow.

I suppose where Todd gets all up in a tizzy about McCandless, I do about Kerouac, and for the similar reasoning of iconography. McCandless seems to have become my generations Kerouac with the subtly blaring difference that he had no desire to. That his adventures were hijacked and twisted to the beliefs of Krakauer and Penn, but Kerouac wrote the words we know him through. Anyway, Leann and I were both of the belief that there are definitely two distinct sorts of travelers. The ones who are running away and the ones who are exploring. Both can and will be lost from time to time, but I think the distinction is in the level of respect you pay your surroundings and hospitalities.

That said, we then got back on topic of her Latin American adventures and the abundance of hospitality she found down there. She was quite emphatic that people would look out for me more down there, rather than look to rob me, and gave me good tips on how to make money, where to stay, and where not to stay. When we got to Santa Rosa an hour later she told me that this was an awful place to hitch from, pulled into the bus station and gave me money for the fare. As I started to protest that I had bus money, she pushed it on me and said "take it" it makes me feel good to have helped you.

Soon enough I was heading to San Rafael by bus, just across the bay from San Francisco. The bus did go straight into the city, but my Dad's sister, my Aunt Sandy, lives around San Rafael and after a small debate figured it'd be easier to see her on the way in than on the way out. She picked me up at the station and I was among family again.

My Aunt Sandy is one of my three California aunts that I rarely see. Her husband, my Uncle Artie, is even more elusive. I realized, as I walked in their house, that I haven't seen him in 22 years. No one had known until an hour earlier that I was coming so I ended up missing my cousin Jen. She was out hiking for the day and I had resolved to get into the city by night. The stand still, don't rush mentality does have its boundaries to understand. Don't rush, but don't get fat and lazy either and expect the world will carry you where you need to go.

I had lunch with Sandy and Artie while telling tales of my adventures. When my aunt asked how I liked living this way I told her with an obvious glow that nothing has suited me better. What I love about either side of my family is in her response of "well, than that's what you should do". I recognize that's extreme good fortune on my part to have a family that supports me on these sorts of endeavors, from my parents and sister on to my grandparents (when they were alive) and aunts & uncles. Finances come and go, but belief support like that is hard to come by.

After lunch Sandy drove me down to the Golden Gate Bridge so that I could walk it at sunset. It was beautiful, and I took my time loving it. On the other side was my other Bay area aunt, Aunt Hea, my Mom's younger sister. As I walked over we coordinated to meet on the other end and go have some coffee together to catch up.

Hea is the youngest for her generation in her family, just as I am for my generation in mine, and we have a good solid bond over that. I also rarely see Hea as she and her boyfriend, David, really detest the weather of the East Coast, and I rarely make it to California. In fact, I realized this was the first time I'd been to San Fran since I came back from Hawaii at 18 and took my four day Greyhound ride home.

Through our standard fare of neither of us really being sure what the other wanted to do, and not really caring ourselves what we did, it took some time to make our way down to the neighborhood of North Beach for a coffee and some sweet treats. It was really great catching up with her. It seemed she needed some good ole fashioned family bonding as well. Around 10pm we parted ways with an arrangement to meet up the next day for lunch.

I was off to meet up with an old high school friend, Rachel. Another whom I hadn't seen in something like 13 years or so. She was living with her boyfriend, Rich, up in The Haight but were off at a party I was welcome to. It was a nice wander through the neighborhood to their apartment, of which they left the key for me, dropped off my bag and made my way to the shindig. I felt a little strange showing up with a crappy, retarded haircut and my bland walking clothes on to this very hip house warming party where at first glance I thought there was a 1920's theme going on.

Rachel and I caught up over a beer or two in the kitchen of the apartment, while others would occasionally join in, find out our connection, and reemerse into the party. Not too long after arriving, though, we all went outside for that group cigarette chatting thing that happens, then we set off for home and bed.