My vote: The Utah Utes

My vote: The Utah Utes are the national champions of college football for the 2008 season, regardless of what happens in the BCS "Championship."

It's over

The last several days (or weeks) have been miserable. I didn't eat much for the 2 weeks I was in Vegas, plus the weather was pretty crappy most of the time. Then I was stuck in Primm for several days, where I also didn't eat much. However, I did have sort of a short vacation in Primm because hotel rooms are really cheap there. From Primm I came back down to SoCal (Ontario) so I could try to get a ride with a trucker east along I-10 to make it home for X-mas. I stood outside two of the biggest truck stops in the country for over 3 days in the very cold, rainy, windy weather, not getting a ride. Finally yesterday, cold and wet and sick of all the shit, I decided to take my mom up on her offer to fly me home. So now I'm sitting at Gate 208 of the Ontario airport, about to board a flight to Atlanta. After a three-hour wait in Atlanta, I'll fly to Columbus, where all this Aimless crap will
officially be over forever. The airlines are a joke, yet they wonder why people don't fly anymore.

At 10:22 am PST, on

At 10:22 am PST, on Las Vegas Boulevard South (a couple miles south of the strip), I officially topped 1,000 miles walking since July 31.

At a Starbuck's in Vegas,

At a Starbuck's in Vegas, I just heard a piano "cover" of Radiohead's 'Paranoid Android.' Wow!

I personify aimless

Having just Googled 'aimless' for the first time in a long time, I was surprised to see that the Aimless web site is now near the top of the list of search results, second only to the definition of 'aimless.' I guess that means there is no one on this planet more aimless than myself. Shouldn't that make me famous or something? Well, I guess I picked the right title for this dying project.

It's too bad Aimless never reached the consciousness of anyone important (like a network or cable bigwig) because I've met some of the most interesting characters on this planet. I haven't been able to tell even a fraction of my story or the Aimless story here, but I can assure y'all that it would have been a fascinating series or movie if only I'd had some people (like a crew) to help me capture the story. Y'see, no one can do it all by themself. You may not realize this, but simply keeping myself alive is the equivalent of working three full-time jobs.

I'm tired now. Unless you've done this tramping thing before, you will never have any idea how tired I am. I've literally had a nearly constant headache for at least a few weeks. I have a hard time interacting with people--even the coolest, most down-to-earth people--because I can't cram any more information into my head. I don't trust my senses anymore because nothing seems real. I can't seem to feel happiness or sadness or any emotions anymore. I'm not even rattled by extreme hunger.

So why do I feel like crying just about all the time?

Something inside me knows this is all wrong, but something else inside me is trying to hide the truth from my consciousness.

It doesn't matter where I am, but I'm not in California anymore.

I'm nearing 1,000 ped-miles since July 31.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

What a messed up day, Part 2

Continued from What a messed up day, Part 1.

After a time-consuming struggle with the strong and constant wind (which, by the way, is what fueled the nearby fires last weekend), I made it back to my campsite, totally beat. Fortunately none of my other gear had blown away while I was off chasing the tent. But it wasn't nearly over yet.

My next objective was to figure out how to get my stuff into my tent. Y'see, it's not easy to keep a tent-kite in place when you have to use your hands to grab the stuff you want to put in it, partly because you need to hold on to the tent at the end but throw your stuff in through the side. Even if you manage to get all your stuff inside the tent, the wind still wants to blow all of it to freaking Mexico, and it can almost do that, even with the weight of all the gear inside.

Seeing how there was no point in staking out the tent (due to the loose sand and hard rock), I had to try to put the heavier pieces of my gear on the windward side of the tent. But when almost everything is out of the backpack, there is only one remotely heavy piece of gear: the backpack and the few pieces of gear that I don't take out of it at night. So I threw the backpack onto the area where my head would be if I was sleeping. The backpack alone is not enough to cover that whole side, so the tent was blowing like crazy, the poles bending to an uncomfortable extent, while I tried to get everything else inside the tent canopy, including myself.

Eventually I worked out that part. Me and all my stuff were inside the tent, sans rainfly, and I was relaxing, with the tent blowing like crazy beside me and in my face. Then came a huge gust of wind, and along with the wind came sand. With the sand particles being smaller than the holes in the tent canopy's mesh, I was now in the middle of a sandstorm, being pelted by the little pieces of earth-rock, which only blow into the tent, not out.

Now remember, I'm in the midst of a migraine right now.

Immediately I grabbed the rainfly, unzipped a door, and slipped my bare feet into my boots, not tying them. As I exited the tent, there was no longer 150 pounds keeping one side of the tent relatively in place, so the tent began flapping everywhere once again. But somehow I managed to attach the rainfly and get back inside the tent without it breaking or going on tour of Mexico.

Now that I'm safely inside the tent, this episode may seem over, but it's not even close because the wind kept up all night. So as I spent the night with my body keeping the tent from blowing away, I couldn't keep the wind from blowing the tent violently back and forth and in my face. I also spent much of the night worrying that the poles would break. Fortunately the aluminum poles did not break, but one of the poles ended up bent about 15 degrees in one spot.

I'm sick of typing, so I'll say one more thing: With the strong wind continuing the next morning, it was a bitch tearing down the tent and packing everything up. Also, all my stuff had tons of sand in it, which also is not very pleasant. I hesitantly slept in almost the same spot the next night, but there was barely any wind that time.

I think that's about it for the time being. I've felt lingering effects from the migraine for the last week. Actually, my life has been one constant headache for quite a while now.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Eloy report

Now that I have some space, here's what happened yesterday, regarding the arraignment: As soon as I finished packing up in the morning, I called my mom and asked her to look up the Eloy District Attorney's phone number, then call the DA. I gave my mom all the important details as I walked a mile back to the Ontario TA truck stop.

Important details for the DA to know: 1) I'd been trying to get a ride from Ontario to Eloy for the previous three days, but I can't make it on time; 2) Greyhound doesn't stop in Eloy; 3)Even though I can't make it on time, I'm still trying to get there. Maybe some other stuff, too.

We were still on the phone as I arrived at my perch across street from TA's truck exit with a sign reading 'Phoenix.' Five or ten minutes after our call, my mom called me back and told me the charge was already dropped.

So that bullshit is over, thankfully.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Happy birthday, Jay

Happy birthday, Jay. I know I'm five days late, but I actually thought about it four days ago, if that's any consolation. I've had a lot of shit on my mind, y'know. I hope things are going well.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

You'll never believe this: The

You'll never believe this: The trainhop-related charge was dropped... before my mom even called the prosecutor on my behalf. More later maybe.

An eternal headache

Oh Jesus Christ, where to begin? First, I'm not gonna make it to Eloy and I really don't care. So I'll be in contempt of court, eh? Yeah, well Eloy is in contempt of Ryan. They've already taken a month from my life and they've probably cut some time off the end of it, too. I've been punished enough; they're not gonna get a cent from me. I might have gotten a ride if I'd been quicker to realize that some guy at the truck stop is way beyond a compulsive liar. I can't even begin to tell that story here. --> Today I watched a big truck push a BMW sideways about 300 feet, with the front of the truck against the BMW's driver's-side door. Got some of it on tape, too. The lady in the BMW was seriously freaked out and crying when the truck finally stopped, right in front of me. I really felt for her; I can't imagine the terror of what she went through. The trucker had no idea she'd even hit the
car, and if I hadn't been there, she probably wouldn't have stopped as soon as she did. Very surreal.

The one time I absolutely

The one time I absolutely HAVE TO get a ride, it's beginning to look like I'm fucked. If I don't get a ride in the next 8 hours, I'm in contempt.

Family man

This dude is Family Guy. Not only does he look like him, but he also kinda talks like him and has a very similar personality and sense of humor. When I told him he reminds me of Peter from Family Guy, he said other people have said that to him, but also that he has never even seen Family Guy. Kinda like me and Into the Wild, I guess. He's a trucker/firefighter named Tom.

What a messed up day, Part 1

You have no idea what kind of shit I go through out here on the road sometimes. Let’s recap yesterday:

I already mentioned the citation for soliciting or whatever. That was early in the morning, and I really don’t think there will be any serious consequences when I don’t show up for court next year. The only reason the cop cited me is to keep some worthless bum out of Montclair forever. Y’see, he profiled me because I carried a large backpack, first writing a citation and asking questions later. When he figured out that I was actually a traveler, not a bum, he became a little less of a dick (but he was still a dick). After taking some time to think about signing the citation, I told him there’s no way I’ll be here in January 2009. That’s when he told me there will only be serious consequences if I show up in Montclair again.

Totally unnecessary bullshit.

Shortly after that, I took a bus to Rancho Cucamonga to put myself in position to see some football on Saturday before heading to a nearby truck stop to get a ride to Stupid Arizona.

In Rancho I ate at In-N-Out Burger. (I’ve been meaning to write a very detailed post about In-N-Out Burger for a while because In-N-Out is by far the best model of how to operate a business in this country. Maybe I’ll get to that sometime.) After eating, at about 5:30 pm, I became very tired and light-headed. It wasn’t lack of sleep or In-N-Out Burger that did this to me; I think it was a few short glimpses of direct sunlight that caused the strange feeling. So, as it was almost completely dark by this time, I began looking for a spot to set up camp for the night, or at least a place where I could lay down and rest a while.

Quickly finding an undeveloped desert area where I would not be seen at such an early hour, I began looking for a flat spot to put up my tent. As I walked around on the dirt and sand, I became more disoriented. I had tunnel vision and I felt very clumsy by now, but I knew I was close to finding a good spot. Feeling like I was in the early stages of a migraine, all I wanted to do was set up my tent and try to turn myself off.

I found a nice spot right away and began setting up. With my tent canopy unfolded on the ground, I assembled my tent poles, which only takes about 30 seconds. While putting together my poles, though, a light wind began blowing. The wind made it difficult for me to pitch the tent canopy, so I grabbed a couple stakes and stuck them through two corners of the tent and into the loose sand.

A couple minutes later, with my poles fully assembled in conjunction with the canopy and just a couple more clips to attach, a strong gust of wind came along and instantly I was running as fast as I could, chasing my tent south through the desert alongside I-15, toward a reasonably busy east-west road. As my tent blew across the road, about a quarter of a mile from my camp site, I was thankful that there was a gap in traffic, but I still didn’t know if I would ever catch up to the tent, especially because there was not a gap in traffic when I reached the road.

By the time I had crossed the road (with my head still not working properly), my tent had come to a stop, thanks to a chainlink fence. So I grabbed the tent and began carrying it back north, into the now constant wind. It was like I was flying 50 kites without a string. I worried that my tent poles would snap with the strength of the wind, and I also worried that I would lose my grip on the poles, possibly resulting in another chase.

TO BE CONTINUED…

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Stuff

Yeah, right. Like that girl will ever call me. --> I just received a citation from a dickhead Montclair cop for "Solicit from freeway offramp." Interestingly, I was walking down a surface street when he saw me and 'pulled me over.' Guess who is not going to appear in a Montclair courtroom on January 14, 2009. It wasn't me on the off-ramp and I really don't care if they put a warrant out for my arrest; I'm not going to be here. I may write a letter to the court or something, but I won't be here. And right now I really don't care if I make it to Eloy by next Wednesday. Fact is, I'm not a criminal, which is why I've NEVER been arrested for ANYTHING. And when I'm not on the road like this, I don't deal with cops, so I really have no reason to fear any prospective arrest warrants. I'm sick of this shit.

We're all Jekyll and Hyde

Walking east on Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena this morning, looking for a bus stop, I passed a very immobile man in a wheelchair--the kind of wheelchair with a control stick. The man had a sign that said something to the effect of "Please donate to stem cell research." Even though I am very comfortable with money right now, I walked right on by the guy without giving him anything. I felt like a dick before I even passed him because I knew I should've slipped him at least a dollar. I mean, how do you think I got the money that's currently in my pocket?

As I bought a cup of coffee a few minutes ago at The Coffee Bean in Upland, I found some money on the floor. For a moment I thought about keeping it without saying anything to anyone, but I couldn't just hold on to it without asking everyone if they were missing any money. So I asked the two girls behind the counter if they were missing anything. Nope. Then I asked the one other customer inside. He said he didn't think he was missing any money, but he looked inside his wallet and asked me, "Was it a 20?" His question was an adequate answer, so I handed him the $20 bill I'd found.

How many of you anonymous critics would've given up that 20? Better yet: How many of you anonymous critics, while living functionally homeless, would've given up that 20? (I don't expect you to answer. You already know the answer.)

JJ the crazy Cajun guy from Des Allemands called me this afternoon for the first time in quite a while, but I couldn't answer right then. I called him back about half an hour later, but I got his voice mail. I had been wondering lately if I would ever hear from JJ again, so his timing was interesting.

One of the girls working at this Coffee Bean is absolutely beautiful. She has the kind of beauty most guys probably can't recognize (because most guys are stupid). I want to tell her how beautiful she is, just so she knows at least one person sees it, but I probably won't because I'll end up saying the stupidest, most ass-brained thing possible. And it won't be adorably ass-brained, like a Ben Stiller character; it will be stalker ass-brained because I seem to have some kind of selective Tourette Syndrome whenever I dare talk to girls that attract me. She hasn't even given me "a look" or anything like that, though, so it really doesn't matter anyway. (But if you see this and I'm wrong, I'd love to hear from you: 614-738-3867.)

Oh yeah, and I returned my backpack to REI yesterday because it just kept falling apart. I couldn't exchange it for the same model because it's impossible to find the Palisade 80 in Medium right now. Luckily they had one Whitney 95 in stock. It's a little bigger than the Palisade 80, and it also costs $30 more, but I found an unplanned way around that. Y'see, I also returned my fifth(?) Therm-A-Rest Prolite 4 "self-inflating" sleeping pad yesterday because it lasted about 4 nights before getting a small puncture. This time, though, I exchanged it for a heavier, bulkier, more durable, and cheaper model. So even though I had to pay an extra $30 for the new backpack, I gained an extra $38 or so from the sleeping pad exchange.

Interestingly, I met a homeless guy/tramp last night that has a Palisade 80. He said he also has had problems with the hipbelt breaking, which was my major issue. (It's gonna happen with my new one, too, because the design is flawed big-time.)

I'm thinking about making a sign that says something like: "I'll use your donation more responsibly than God does." I need to figure out how to say the same thing in fewer words, though.

Also, I topped 1,400 walking-miles for 2008 yesterday morning, shortly after departing my temporary home near the Rose Bowl.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Film crews

I talked to quite a few people from the NCIS crew yesterday. Actually they initiated the conversations. One thing I've learned while watching film shoots around LA is that the people on the crews tend to be very cool and personable.

I'm seriously starting to consider moving to LA to try to get a job in the film industry. I don't even care what kind of job; I just think I'd like working in that environment, and I actually like LA a lot. If I happen upon any more sets while I'm around here, I may ask some of the crew members how to get a foot in the door for some kind of entry-level position.

At the NCIS shoot, unlike the other TV shoot I watched (Ghost Whisperer), all the main actors were on the set. The only name I know is Mark Harmon, but I recognized a very pretty actress and a young male actor, each of whom plays an NCIS agent.

I had never seen NCIS until recently, when I was stuck at a truck stop in Hell; I mean Arizona. If you didn't already know this, the TVs in truck stop driver lounges are almost always on either USA or TNT, which means Law & Order is almost always on. Lately, though, USA has been showing a lot of NCIS in the daytime. From what I've seen, anyway.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

NCIS

They're filming a scene from NCIS today in downtown Pasadena. After I watch a little of this, I'm going to treat myself to lunch at the Cheesecake Factory. A good meal like that is long overdue.

Excuse me... Colorado Boulevard.

Excuse me... Colorado Boulevard.

This is weird: The heart

This is weird: The heart of Pasadena (Colorado Avenue) actually feels A LOT like Manhattan, especially at night with reasonably cool weather.

No more Aimless

For anyone who hasn't figured this out yet: Um, I'm almost certainly done blogging and this Aimless thing is effectively over, even though I'll be on the road for at least a little while longer. I'm just tired, lonely, mega stressed out, a little cuckoo, and I don't care anymore. --> To Amanda from Flying J, if you're out there: I'd really like to hear from you ASAP (like as soon as you read this). Your smile makes me feel good and your eyes seem to have spoken nice things to me, which I'm probably all wrong about, only because I feel like I want it to be true. Anyway, I'd just like to talk to you. I walked five unnecessary miles tonight, just hoping you'd be around so I might be able to talk to you a little bit. Obviously things didn't go as I'd hoped. (For everyone else: This Flying J has a rent-a-cop who thinks he makes a difference by kicking out very good customers simply because
they carry large backpacks.) Call me, Amanda. A few people think I'm a really nice guy.

The judge said I won't

The judge said I won't have a public defender because there's no chance I'll go to jail. Also because the charge is a misdemeanor.

Testing the system

I met with the judge just before noon today. Without first having the chance to speak to an attorney, I was given the choice to plead either guilty or not guilty. The judge told me a guilty plea means I'll have to pay a $450 fine, which is not gonna happen without a fight. I wanted some time to think, though, before deciding on a plea. So when the judge gets back from lunch, I'll be officially pleading not guilty, which means I'll have to be back in Eloy on November 19th to meet with a prosecutor for some kind of preliminary hearing. I do intend to take advantage of my right to state-appointed legal counsel. However, if there is an attorney out there somewhere who would like to represent me pro bono, or at least give me some good advice, I'd like to hear from you. Or if anyone out there knows someone who could give me a hand, I'd really appreciate your help. You can call me at
614-738-3867.

Delayed again

So now they're putting off my court appearance until at least noon because the railroad cop apparently can't be here until then. However, I've been informed that the judge will be taking lunch at noon, so I'll possibly have to wait another two hours beyond that. It seems to me that the police officer, who himself set my court appearance for 9:00, should be held responsible for showing up on time, just like I was. I've had to figure out how to survive the last 11 days in a state I wanted to leave long ago, then find my way back to this nothing town for a court appearance, which I did. But he's allowed to show up whenever he wants, while I sit around for several hours? This is total bullshit! They asked me if I wanted to put it off until Wednesday, instead of waiting all these hours. No, I just want the court to have some integritah, and I want the cop to be held responsible and
accountable for his actions. Let's get this show on the road.

Eloy Arizona

I had all kinds of weird dreams and thoughts last night. In one dream, OJ Simpson committed suicide by jumping off a building; presumably a prison. It's weird that my unconscious brain would dig up something like OJ Simpson because I have not had any significant conscious thoughts about him in years and I almost never have a chance to follow the news. All I know about current Juice events is that he was recently on trial for something in Las Vegas and I'm pretty sure he was convicted. --> I showed up at Eloy Municipal Court before 9:00 this morning, as directed, but I soon found out there is no court on Mondays. The clerk or cashier looked at my citation and couldn't find anything about my case in their computers or files. Eventually she told me that the judge is in a meeting and will see me at about 10:30. So I'm just waiting right now, bored as hell. Since the railroad cop apparently
is not going to show up, I have the feeling my punishment will be a wag of the finger.

At McDonald's, for some reason

At McDonald's, for some reason I thought about the song Superstar by the Carpenters. A minute later it was the next song to play on their Muzak.

I just wrote a long

I just wrote a long post, but fucking Blogger won't publish it. Maybe I can work it out within a few weeks, whenever I find some more free wifi.

Nevermind. I guess it published. I'm still really pissed off and sick of this Blogger shit.

Catching up

I found some free wifi for the first time in three or four weeks. Since no one gave me any shit for my last post, I'll try to catch up on the last week or so. Thanks to fucking Blogger, I lost a whole bunch of stuff I'd written here and now have to rewrite it. I really wish people would stop commenting anonymously, just so I can tell who's writing what.

All right. Here goes...

First, I sat around at a Flying J in Eloy, Arizona for about two days after getting busted on the freight train that I didn't even want to ride. The only reason I rode it is because about 20 people in Tucson told me the Flying J was only about 5 or 10 miles out of town. However, after walking about six miles out of civilization, I saw a billboard for the Flying J, telling me it was still another 32 miles up the road. So I stopped for the night and slept near what seemed to be a busy exit from I-10.

In the morning I went straight to the northbound on-ramp, hoping to get a short ride to the Flying J, but no luck. Nearly out of water but thirsty as hell because I was saving the few remaining ounces, a northbound train soon stopped at the nearby siding. I didn't plan to ride the train at first, but I might have been fucked if I'd kept trying to get a ride, so I walked down the frontage road and found a spot on the front of an empty shipping container car.

About 30 miles up the road, the train stopped. I was going to get off there anyway, but a Union Pacific police officer pulled up just as I stood up to dismount. You already know the rest of that story.

So after two days at the Flying J, some guy offered me a ride. I thought he was a truck driver at first, but he was actually a tramp with a car and a female companion. They were going to California, so they didn't mind taking me to Quartzsite, where I wanted to visit my buddy Otis, who operates a pizza trailer in the swap meet town. Making a pitstop in Phoenix to buy a bag of weed, they were offered a place to stay for the night, so they took me to the nearby Flying J and said they'd stop by to pick me up at about noon the next day. If they did stop by, I never saw them. So I spent two days at the Phoenix Flying J until getting kicked out.

From the Flying J, I walked about five miles to a Pilot station. Intending to eat and immediately find a place to sleep, I bought a couple hot dogs. Before I even finished my hot dogs, though, I had a ride to Quartzsite with a trucker.

Arriving at the Love's truck stop in Quartzsite at about 12:30 Monday night, I quickly recognized an employee in the dining area. It was Jessica Payne, who I'd met almost two years ago while trying to make it home from California for Christmas. (There is a picture of Jessica on the Photos page.) I said hi to Jessica and asked if she remembered me. She didn't remember me, but we began a conversation. I told her I was in town to see a buddy of mine--the guy who operates the pizza trailer. She asked if I meant Otis, and I said yes. So she asked me, "You haven't heard?" Then she told me Otis died of a heart attack a couple weeks earlier.

I was shocked. At age 58, Otis was in very good shape, both physically and mentally. I think he exercised quite a bit, too. So only a few minutes after arriving in Quartzsite, I found out that I had no reason to be there.

I needed to sleep, so I headed out of the truck stop and looked for somewhere to sleep, which is not very difficult in the middle-of-nowhere swap meet town. Still, I didn't get to sleep until about 2:00 am, which means I didn't get much sleep that night.

I spent the next two days sitting around the truck stop, hoping to get a ride to either Phoenix or Tucson. I finally got a ride to Tucson yesterday afternoon. I wanted to get out of the truck a couple miles before reaching the outer edge of Tucson, but my driver wouldn't stop for me. So I ended up having to ride with him all the way through Tucson and a little beyond, where there is a truck stop, leaving me about 25 miles from where I wanted to be.

I have almost no money right now, but I should be able to round some up. I hope I can find somewhere to watch the Penn State/Ohio State game Saturday. But even if I do, I have to start trying to get back to Eloy immediately after the game because I have an appointment with a judge early Monday morning to determine my punishment for Criminal Trespass, 3rd Degree. After that, I should be free to go wherever I want, although I might have to figure out a way to make a quick $175.

I guess that's about it for now. I get so sick of Blogger causing me to lose shit I've already drafted and redrafted.

Rest in peace, Otis Gunn.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

I don't like Arizona and

I don't like Arizona and I absolutely don't enjoy doing this anymore. I've given up on humanity. Most Americans are stupid & miserable. The End.

Shower yesterday. First one in

Shower yesterday. First one in 46 days. A ridiculous record that will not be broken.

The train stopped right about

The train stopped right about where I wanted it to stop, but there was a railroad cop waiting for me. Now I have to go to court in 11 days.

Two trainhops in three days.

Two trainhops in three days. I just want this one to stop after 30 miles.

My suspicions have just been

My suspicions have just been confirmed: I am in downtown Tucson. Now to find a good on-ramp or truck stop (or whatever I end up doing).

Off the train at 2:30.

Off the train at 2:30. Have no idea where I am. Looks like some kind of city.

Hobo soundtrack

I've been on this train for almost nine hours now. When the train starts going really fast, like 50 or 60 miles an hour, the shifting of weight and the wheel imperfections start playing a song. On this spot of this train, the song is something like Dick Dale meets African drumming. It's kinda like on Space Mountain, how they have speakers right in your ears, blasting, coincidentally, Dick Dale. At least that's what they played last time I rode it, which was eleven years ago. This is better, though, because this whole monster is the speakers. It's a rush that, unlike Space Mountain, doesn't end after a minute or two. This is the American Dream and you can thank people like me for keeping it alive. You're welcome.

What a ride! I took that pic a few minutes ago, somewhere east of Yuma, Arizona. I don't know where this train is going, but it won't be going where I meant to go. Looks like Tucson probably; perhaps Phoenix first. Beautiful day for a train ride. And the only reason I'm riding it is because it stopped beside me when I had almost finished walking to the truck stop in Palm Springs.

Does this work?

There should be a short video of me, a freight train, a mouthful of sunflower seeds, and a big desert in this post. Did it work?

I'm riding the rails again,

I'm riding the rails again, baby. Eastbound Union Pacific out of Palm Springs at 10:00 sharp.

No death in the desert

I spent all day yesterday in Indio, mostly in the bowling alley of a casino, where I was able to catch some football on TV. Later I had a phone conversation with someone very special to me; someone I really haven't mentioned since seeing her in San Francisco a couple months ago. Even though I haven't written about her, I think about her all the time. I'm not going to tell the whole story here. Anyway, she called me mostly because I pretty much begged her to talk to me. Y'see, there's a lot I don't tell you here. One thing I think I've hidden well is the fact that I've been pretty messed up in the head for a while, for all kinds of reasons. Well, speaking with her for 20 minutes really helped me in that department, even though our conversation was very far from what I'd hoped for. Sometimes the mind just needs proper closure, ya know, and I received something like that. So I'm not gonna
walk off into the desert now. Instead, I think I'll try to get a ride to Quartzsite, Arizona.

Here in La Quinta, had

Here in La Quinta, had I not just been paying attention as I crossed a street legally, I absolutely would have been killed by a FedEx truck.

Please continue wasting water, California.

Please continue wasting water, California. We'll make more for you, just so you can have lots of green grass where there should be none.

If I can smell your

If I can smell your cologne or perfume when you drive by, you need to use less of it. I don't think I've ever gotten a ride with an Asian person.

Aimlesser

It's a good thing I hung around Rancho/Ontario yesterday because I realized I should get new shoestrings before wandering into the desert to die. I slept across the street from REI last night and bought those laces today, along with several energy bars to add to the 15 or 20 I bought yesterday. A really cool dude helped me today at REI; can't remember his name right now, though. Leaving REI, I bought a day pass and spent most of the day riding various buses toward Yucaipa. I got off in Colton after seeing a laundromat, but the water was shut off, so I couldn't exactly do my laundry there. I found another laundromat in Redlands, did my laundry, then ate at Shakey's Pizza, since I'm good on cash right now. Nonetheless, when I ordered, a lady named Anita offered to buy my pizza for me. Rock! At Shakey's I talked a few minutes with a very cool (and gorgeous) girl who was pouring the drinks.
I've actually been to this Shakey's twice before, with my good friend Jeff, when he lived out here.

More aimless than aimless

After a lot of walking and a couple bus rides Saturday, I made it to Rancho a little before 4:00. Low on cash, my first objective was to work the off-ramp just long enough to get comfortable. When I arrived, though, a car had just broken down in my sign-flying spot. Looking like it wouldn't be there long, I made a pit stop at the In-N-Out Burger next door. As I finished eating and neared the ramp, a tow truck was hauling away the kaput auto, so I was clear. (Omitting the details of this session, I made over $50 in 15 minutes because I rule.) I then walked to REI but shortly left for BW3 so I could watch the Buckeyes. (I found a $20 bill on the way there.) --> Early yesterday I went back to REI to see if there was any solution to my backpack problem. Speaking immediately to the manager (Adam, I think), he presented a solution that could fix my most immediate problem without exchanging
the pack. After I agreed to his solution, he replaced the hipbelt for me. Really cool guy. Thanks, man.

Very aimless

First I want to congratulate my cousin Jeff and his new wife Sunshine. Welcome to the family, Sunshine. --> I'd walked as far as Palm Springs by yesterday morning, with a lot of doubling back, covering at least 50 miles twice by foot, before I had to come back to Rancho yet again because my backpack is falling apart. These problems are structural, not cosmetic. I was planning to keep walking east into the vast, unsettled desert, but none of the SoCal REI stores have my backpack in stock. As a result, I'm gonna try to get a ride to wherever I can find a store that has what I need. Or I might just head toward the Gregory factory, which is somewhere in the Bay Area. This is frustrating. Maybe if I can find a store with my backpack in stock somewhere in the west, I'll head back to Palm Springs and resume my hike where I left off. I really feel like I need to challenge myself and disappear
into the brutal desert. --> Those Badgers just can't finish anyone off lately, can they, Badger?

Jeff, I'm happy to report

Jeff, I'm happy to report that the Pizza Chalet is alive and kicking. (For everyone else, that's a pizzeria in Yucaipa, where Jeff used to live.)

Back in Redlands

When I wrote the previous post, I incorrectly said I'd walked 22.5 miles. I actually had walked 23.5 miles at that point and ended up walking 26.17 miles for the day. Having already walked through Loma Linda less than a week ago, I knew there was an orange grove that would make a good place to sleep, so I walked almost another 3 miles instead of just finding the first decent place to sleep. After another 3.45 miles this morning, I'm back in Redlands, where I caught the ride back to Rancho Cucamonga the other day with a cool young chap named Austin McCleod.

So yesterday was my third longest walking day, having previously done a 30-mile day and a 28-mile day. The difference with this one, as I stated last night, is that I started pretty late in the morning and I didn't really intend to walk so many miles; it just happened. After the long walk, I felt pretty good. (Considering I hurt pretty much all the time, "felt pretty good" means I could move.)

That's all I really have to say right now because you don't really have a lot of interesting experiences when you spend every day walking. That is, of course, unless the cops beat you up.

--
Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

That other thing

Here's what I couldn't remember to say earlier today: I broke down and bought some shaving cream and razors yesterday. I just got sick of dealing with excess facial hair. It sure was fun trying to shave over half an inch of beard with a disposable razor in a Starbuck's bathroom. --> I've walked 22.5 miles today, and I'm not finished yet; probably still another couple miles to go. I didn't even start walking until 9:00 am, after waking up at 6:30, which strangely has been my normal wake-up time for a while now. The reason I didn't start until 9:00 is that I hung around at Starbuck's for a while, mostly writing the previous blog post. Also, with today's mileage, I've walked about 500 miles since mid-August. --> On days when I walk at least 15 miles, I drink about two gallons of water, but I only pee about a quart because I sweat and sweat and sweat. Nowadays it's harder to keep track of
how much I drink because I have a wide-mouth water bottle that I add ice to whenever possible.

Weekend

I actually had kind of a weekend this past weekend. It was weird; I'd really forgotten about the concept of 'weekend' because I haven't had any real chances to rest since I was riding with Vernon. And even though riding in a truck may not be too physically demanding, it's not exactly the same as a weekend or days off.

Anyway, I spend a good chunk of Saturday at BW3 watching football. At the restaurant I talked to a guy named Ted Theodore Rodriguez. Like Ted from Bill and Ted, Ted is from San Dimas. He was there to watch the Colorado/Florida State game, rooting for Colorado. Although his #1 favorite team is USC--the real USC, not South Carolina--Ted also roots for Colorado because back in the 80s his brother was recruited to play for Colorado. His brother never ended up playing at Colorado, but Ted became a Buffalo fan nonetheless. Ted was cool to talk to; he also bought me a beer.

I spent most of yesterday at a Starbuck's, largely because I could get Supercuts' free wifi from there, but also because it was freaking hot outside, like usual, and I just wanted to chill out for a while. Starbuck's employees are always very cool with me, even though I don't think I've ever bought anything from the stores I've visited with my backpack. I talked to one of the workers quite a bit while I was there; he was pretty interested in my story and my objective. I eventually found out that he was the store manager, which was cool because I never would have guessed. Seeing him sweep the floors and doing all kinds of grunt work, I figured he was just one of the crew. Usually food industry managers just stand around all the time, trying to look important without actually doing anything, so I was impressed. I never got his name, but I think it may be Ben.

Even with the relatively relaxing weekend, I still walked 14 miles (5 Saturday, 9 Sunday).

It seems like there was something else I wanted to say, but I can't remember what it may have been,