"The Desert"
3/1/10- 3/21/10
We stand at the feet of our shadows, giants of ourselves
(there's a chunk of time [Fontana to Redlands] missing before this, but I will get that sent out at a later time)
After a day of driving, an infinite series of buses, and a 10 mile walk, I found myself reunited with George in Beaumont. Shane and Mary greeted me with warmth and a veggie wrap. Only a night's rest for me and then we were off to take on the world again, one step at a time.I was prepared, as Mary made us a huge pancake breakfast and even packed us some lunch for the road!
In addition to this, I scored Mary's super sentimental and well-traveled sunglasses, a gift for the road from the road. Here's the brief history, as she puts it:
Purchased in May 2008 at Buffalo Exchange off Hawthorn in Portland, the glasses have posed by every nook and cranny of the Northwest, including Abe Lincoln in downtown Portland, Sam Hill's Stonehenge in Washington, many parts of California, Utah, Idaho, Arizona (yes, they've gazed into the abyss of the grand canyon), New mexico, Texas ... and even Miami. They've floated on the Caribbean and basked in the Mexican sun. They've fallen on the streets on Guatemala, and have seen too many Mayan ruins. I have loaned them to friends, and even wore them at my wedding rehearsal. In short, they've been broken in for their trek across America. :) Hope they serve you well ... with style. ~m
Thanks, Mary!
We have since trekked through the longest spans of emptiness since we began.
At this point, I'm learning a lot about independence and compromise; after traveling with a companion for a couple of weeks, our differences have reared their heads in some not always pleasant confrontations. I can feel myself growing impatient with some of these disparities, but I'm making the best efforts to learn from this experience, or remember, rather, that I'm not the only person in the world. In Palm Springs, where we stayed with Ashley and her lovely slobbery lab, Kayla, I took an evening to lay low. I gave myself a haircut, then sat by the pool and mused at how remarkably like a vacation this was. The sight of a snowy mountain amidst the palm tree foreground, in all its foreignness, eased away the grumpiness that snuck into me this day. Feelings of discontent have larely dissipated. The road stretching out before me reassures that any difficulty can be surmounted, and any place can be reached, if only you put one foot in front of the other.
On our way to Indio, pavement gave us a much easier walk than we'd had into Palm Springs. We met several people along the way, including an older couple who were stealthily photographing us from a distance at the Desert Welcome Center. They invited us to dinner in the sprawling home, and we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly. Below, an article from a local newspaper:
Ashley Winchester • The Desert Sun • March 6, 2010
George Throop and Shay Emmons are seen walking through the Coachella Valley on Thursday as they make their way toward Washington, D.C. (Michael Snyder The Desert Sun)
Inspiring others
Throop's 50-pound backpack, filled with water, camping supplies, food and clothing, hugs his sides as he walks. He's used to the weight. After five months and 1,000 miles, the pack is like a second skin. It's all part of the journey, which Throop says is 80 to 90 percent mental and 10 to 20 percent physical.
“On faith, I walk in the hopes that even if one person can be inspired — actually to tell you the truth, even if nobody is inspired — just having made the effort to try will for me have been worth it,” he says.
As he walks, Throop catches the attention of curious passers-by. Many ask him questions about the neon yellow, block-letter “walking across America” signs he wears attached to his reflective safety vest. Occasionally, he's offered money and shelter — though he's never asked for financial donations — and some people, like 24-year-old Shay Emmons, of Monterey, come along for the walk.
Emmons joined Throop in Santa Monica, and has walked with him for more than 100 miles. The blisters are beginning to catch up with her, and the five-day-long, desolate desert walk from Indio to Blythe will be the first to end camped out under the stars. But Emmons remains focused on the journey ahead.
“I want to learn, through the uncertainty and challenges of this trip, to handle anything with grace,” she says. “It's meditative and character-building, and I want to take advantage of that. I think everyone should embark on a grand adventure at least once in their life. We should all attempt to do things we aren't certain we can do.”
http://www.mydesert.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=20103050346
Our hosts in Indio were a spectacular family of 5. Andres, Patricia, and their 3 totally awesome kids. Andres was kind enough to take us prospecting for routes while the kids were at school. From the back seat of a truck, traveling swiftly and smoothly on the interstate, the terrain looked hostile, punishing even, for a walk. The road had been relatively easy so far; but at times it pays to remember people have long since journeyed through deserts and over mountains with far fewer amenities than we have. It may take forever, but I'll do it. And chances are, it won't take forever.
An excursion to Joshua Tree really brightened up my outlook on desert travel. The land is far from dead, as many have supposed before. I used to think that mother nature must have been in a bad mood when she created the desert, but maybe it's just a matter of balance; beauty can't be seen only in terms of what we find comfortable. The variety of cacti alone is testament to the creative ability of the universe. The silver chollas showcase a marvelous array of spines that glisten in the sun, as it filled with the ore of their namesake.
The silence is deafening, absolute.
I found the desert's version of the lone cypress, a windswept ocotillo apart from the others that looked like it was dancing.
Off to Joshua Tree again the next day, we crammed (well not really crammed) 12 people into a 15 person van: Myself and George, 2 other couchsurfers, Andres and Patricia, the 3 kids, and 3 cousins. We passed the time by fogging the windows and playing tic-tac-toe. I was surprised that in the midst of 5 hyper boys yelling and flailing I only got hit in the face once by a stray limb. It just comes with the territory.
Up and up we climbed, and I noticed the rain on the windshield becoming slushy. Nobody believed me when I said it was snow, but sure enough it was falling steadily in the next few minutes. Out of the initial doubt arose desperate please to pull over, and soon we were all icily smitten by the gods. Big rocks were havens for stuck snow, and we gladly pelted each other, enjoying the unexpected opportunity.
Riding back I was entertained by a notion that "autobahn" meant "hello" in German.
The next day, we packed up our things and said one last goodbye to the people who'd become family over the weekend. Then we were really "into the wild." From Mecca, we passed grove after grove of grapefruits. Box canyon was even more mesmerizing today than it was from inside a vehicle a couple days ago. Upon looking closer, the rock formations are as varied in color as an ocean sunset. "The Long and Winding Road" plays in my head as we weave through the canyon walls. We made a new friend, Brian, who I'm hoping will meet up with us in Texas or maybe even sooner.
And then there were three...
Above, George flashes his sign as Colin excitedly...I don't know what he's doing...
On this day we moved the clocks forward, a practice whose absurdity couldn't be more apparent, given our surroundings. Blisters, shinsplints and toothache now take precedence in my mind in terms of things to take care of.
In Desert Center, we stayed with Liz from the Patton Museum in Chiriaco Summit. She and her family proved to be abundantly gracious, and no less entertaining. They left us with high spirits and almost too much food to carry. Colin "Forestdweller" joined us this morning, adding to the excitement we were already feeling to move forward.
Mileage at this point had already become more important to scrutinize, as the miles between water increased.
Above, we crawl under interstate 10 with our heavy packs, unable to crawl and unable to stand. Good hamstring workout!
Despite the blisters and shinsplints, walking through the nothingness is unbelievably peaceful. I wish I could say I've learned to zone out the tooth pain. As I attempted to cauterize the exposed nerve with ground aspirin, per Colin's advice, he recited from internet wisdom such encouragements as "DO NOT ATTEMPT" and "prepare for a moment of excruciating pain," but as far as I can tell, nothing happened.
Walking and camping, each day calling a different spot "home," I feel once again human in both my capabilities and limits. Though I don't feel vulnerable, I'm subject to nature's conditions much more than people feel they need to be. The sun dictates my wakefulness and my mobility...except for when it's cold in the morning.
I was overjoyed to reach the truckstop 5 miles before Blythe, after 12 miles of walking (a short, but seemingly infinite walk with the blisters and all) I saw a group of punky bicycle anarchist looking kids and immediately wanted them to be my friends. As it turned out, Colin had already arranged a ride for me with them while I was getting coffee. I didn't hesitate for a second, and we all piled into the van with a pile of bikes on top; these were my people, if only for an explosive and brief moment, and they seemed glad to have me. They left me in Blythe with a "never forget us!"
I won't.
Check them out!
Once in Blythe, we hung out at a coffee shop where some amazing new friends arranged a hotel stay for us! We were also gifted with day olds and tasty drinks! To kill time, Colin and I made some parking lot mac-and-cheese.
The next morning, I remembered sleeping in a bed is a luxury to be appreciated, EVEN if you are used to it. Words cannot express how good a shower feels after hot days and dusty nights in the expanses of the desert.
THEN WE CROSSED INTO ARIZONA.
Oh my goodness...
I walked across California...
I need a moment...
I lost my wallet on a bus taking us back to Blythe, where we stayed the night again, but luckily George found it. I wasn't really worried, actually. Honestly, each day possessions and identity seem more and more unimportant. Funny, "Imagine" was playing when I wrote that thought down, and I was hearing "Imagine no possessions/I wonder if you can" :)
In the period of time I was without my wallet, I met a family who'd broken down on their way to Disneyland, and they were still as happy as could be. They wanted to support the cause, so they gave me some cash. It's amazing how people come together to help each other here and there. I'm constantly reminded of my favorite meditation:
I take comfort in knowing I am always provided for.
I'll never lose my faith in people as long as I remember this experience.
Love, Shay
There are more photos here:
http://picasaweb.google.com/FakePlasticShay
The blog, which is just a running accumulation of these emails and journalings, is here:
http://fakeplasticshay.blogspot.com/
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I am not traveling for profit. I seek to live as minimally as possible while traveling, and in life in general. However, any help along the way is appreciated, as food and shelter are of the utmost uncertainty on this trip. if you would like to make a small contribution for food you may do so by clicking here:
https://cms.paypal.com/us/cgi-bin/?cmd=_render-content&content_ID=marketing_us/send_money
click the "personal" tab, send it to Fakeplasticshay@gmail.com,
specify your own amount as a gift, and help me get one day and one
city further!
As always, anything helps and is so very much appreciated!
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So! Onward!
I am an adventure traveler. I am not a tourist seeking a distraction from my discomforts and worries. I am a lover of life seeking to submerge myself in the world outside myself. The nature and quality of my experience are based on some questions:
-What do I want from the road?
-Why will I travel?
I want to see amazing things
I want to meet amazing people
I want to do a lot of walking
I want freedom
I want stories
I want to see and try new things
And I want all of these things at the expense of taking risks and encountering uncertainty.
Love, Shay
