Ennui for Breakfast

5/19/10-6/3/10 Van Horn, TX to Midland, TX Ennui for Breakfast

5/19/10

I got lucky today. There was a restaurant at the end of my day that I'd only heard about yesterday, but even upon arrival was skeptical about its existence. There have been several instances of gas stations, restaurants, and rest stops simply not existing when I have counted on them for...well...survival, really. I didn't have much money, so I just had a little snack of grilled cheese.

5/20/10

The night passed with a brutal slowness as mosquitoes indulged on my flesh. I didn't close my sleeping bag all the way, because it was so warm, and that gave the little bugs license to eat me alive. I had no trouble waking before sunrise to start a long day of my version of the nine-to-five. Again, the incline that one would take for granted in a vehicle swiftly gliding along wreaked havoc on my calves. It was 17 miles to Kent, which was nothing more than a decrepit Chevron with a few dusty wares and a post office that I was surprised to find open--it appeared long abandoned. I have to say, Kent kind of depresses me. In a place like this, the people you encounter are never happy to be there, nor to see you, for that matter. I retreated to a spot in the trees, a bit lonely and anxious to get to the next place on my route. These long stretches really remind me of just how slow walking is. It must have been in the 90's today.

5/21/10

Good riddance, Kent. I slept wonderfully as a dream, but was rudely awakened by a midday heat before 7. I packed with unusual speed, cutting my usual 8ish minutes down to less than 5, and moved forward, savoring a frontage road of unknown length. I'd been wrestling the impulse to hitch back to Tucson, an epic 700 miles backtrack, to visit Sasha and relax in my closest home, now that I'm in the middle of nowhere.

It seemed, on the whole, an unrealistic fancy, so I abandoned the thought. Mostly, anyway. But the notion became an absolute necessity, and urgently so, when I nearly stepped on a hiding rattlesnake; it greeted me with a sound I couldn't get out of my head. So I stuck out my thumb with a resolve bordering on desperation, there in the middle of nowhere, Texas. Semis screamed by, none of them taking a particular interest in my plight. As one by one they passively denied me passage to home and love, I threw my hands up in a frustrated plea to the sometimes obliging universe.

There was a honk and a yell, and I turned around to see my savior leaning out of an open semi. I ran over, said hello, and asked if he was a nice person, looking for the almost imperceptible hesitation that sometimes accompanies a "yes." Taking off his shades to reveal unflinchingly honest eyes, he really didn't have to say anything to convince me; he explained that he never picks up hitch-hikers, but that something told him to look in his rear-view at the precise moment of my indignation, and that he felt compelled to stop. I suppose this was one of those "sometimes" moments for the universe. Even more luckily, Aaron will be going back East in a few days and has volunteered to give me a ride back to the junction 20, where I left off! We had 10 hours ahead of us, which is a long time to spend with a stranger in an enclosed space. Fortunately, I'm a well seasoned cross-country hitch-hiker, and, so I've been told, pretty relatable.

So the ride went great, and we stopped outside El Paso to eat. Backtracking always fills me with a sense of vague guilt and worry, because there's always the chance that I'll get stuck somewhere; but I set my worries aside, because the prospect of being somewhere like home outweighs pushing too hard forward right now. Aaron took care of me on the lunch front, and gave me a shower pass. Actually I showered first, because he said I had to if I wanted to sit with him. I like to think he was kidding...

We came back to the truck to find that it wouldn't start. He began to fret, but I convinced him, at least outwardly, that some patience and good vibes would be the best solution. We hung out a while, then called the mechanic when a second effort failed, and then tried again when the mechanic took too long. We were soon after hurtling forward, defying all constraints of formal time as the sunset eluded our westward dash.

We arrived in Tucson having gained 2 hours, but our bodies knew better. I found Sasha waiting for me at the gas station, and as I got down Aaron put on his father hat, making sure Sasha knew to treat me right.

I have no worries on this matter. So I'm staying with Sasha at the Earth First! Journal collective house, where he lives and works. Here, he writes, edits, and publishes articles for the Journal, which is the publication of the Earth First! movement itself. For 30 years the Journal has provided independent coverage of direct action in the name of ecological defense. Sasha also updates the online newswire. The collective is usually comprised of a long-term editorial staff as well as short term workers, and all share an assortment of responsibilities pertaining directly to the publication, as well as maintaining the house, collecting food donations for the inhabitants, and other odds and ends.

5/22/10 This morning I woke up a big spoon, and upon rising beckoned my little counterpart to join me for a walk in the narrowly missed sunrise. We returned home for our usual coffee and toast, reveling in each others' quiet morning company. We spent the rest of the day doing everyday things, which could only be appreciated as exciting by somebody who never experiences the "everyday" as most people do. I know life is good when I can be excited without doing anything particularly exciting. But I must say, on our excursion around town, we did find two pizzas in the dumpster, and that was exciting. 5/23/10 The bathroom exploded! No really...it did...Good thing I'm not domesticated... Roughly at the same time, the short-term staff at the journal decided to go back to Humboldt...tonight... Food not Bombs was also tonight. In addition to dealing with septic sludge all day, we had to go to the co-op to get the food donation and then to Casa Maria to cook a meal for the community. While we were cooking, we gave an impromptu talk to a girl scout brigade about FNB's mission. They were dropping off some PB&Js they had made to donate to Casa Maria for the morning distribution. We served at 6:30, and though it was a small group, those who partook were lively and appreciative. 5/24/10 I was supposed to be taking off this morning bright and early, but my ride turned into an afternoon ride, and then into a tomorrow ride. Fine with me! I went to Epic to do some updating on the blog, and then Sasha and I went on a "date" to check out the free store at Dry River Collective.

5/25/10 Today I actually left Tucson, shortly after being harassed by some bicycle cops for looking "suspicious." This more often than not just means you look homeless. Overwhelmingly, police and border patrol have been more than helpful, giving me directions and advising me on frontage roads, etc. Today, though, I was made aware of the discrepancies of their suspicions. Had I been wearing a business suit, standing around and doing nothing, would I be questioned? It's sometimes dispiriting to realize how much outward appearance defines others' impressions of our intentions and character, and that, in turn, these perceptions are largely determined by class.

Anyhow...10 more hours of driving after a hard goodbye. As we approached junction I-20, Aaron became adamant about not wanting to drop me off there in the middle of the night. I argued on the grounds of not missing a mile, but he refused on the grounds of some gut feeling I wasn't able to dispel. 2 days of work passed me by in a long, guilt-filled 30 minutes. I can only hope that in being honest about this mishap, opening myself to the scrutiny to all who read this, that I won't be seen as a fraud for those stolen 40 miles. Aaron says he takes responsibility, to tell everyone his name is Aaron Lewis, and he's glad he did it. I, myself, cannot let it go under the radar of my conscience, and will have to make up the 40 miles somewhere.

Aaron tells me I should visit the Dalai Lama, not knowing this is, for me, a lifelong dream. It's a nice thought, but somehow I feel I couldn't appreciate such an experience to the fullest until I become further humbled and strengthened by my current endeavor. I still have many challenges ahead of me, and, of course, much to learn from them. He says the Dalai Lama would be honored to know me. I laugh. I cannot be so bold. 5/26/10 Here I am in Pecos. I took a shower, mended some pants for Aaron at the truck stop, and we parted ways. I'll miss him. I decided that I would take advantage of the library, if only I could find it. I wandered toward what looked like town, and a lady stopped to ask if I wanted a ride. Since it was perpendicular to my route and I'd have to backtrack to the road anyway, I accepted. She took me by the Christian Home in town and they offered me a place to stay for however long I needed it. They seemed sane enough, so I had a viable option to look forward to at the end of the day. When I got to the library, Sally was almost irrationally kind to me, letting me use the computer without worry of time constraint. She was a good representative of all the graciousness I'd encounter in Pecos. She left me with some fruit, and I went back to the Christian home, admittedly with some reservation, but that quickly dissipated once I was inside. A far cry from any shelter I've been to, this home was welcoming and unpretentious in every manner. Sunlit by an abundance of windows, the living room felt like home immediately. The high ceilings and tidy appearance furthered the effect. With an air-conditioned room to myself, I couldn't have asked for more comfortable accommodations. The ladies of the house were most inviting, and we enjoyed some conversation before going to bed.

What I like most about this environment is that, though Maria and Veronica had their own spiritual parameters, they were willing to accept the notion that a good person is not necessarily defined by these parameters. Walking through Texas I have encountered a great deal of lecturing, at times aggressive and nearly frightening, about the beliefs of other people. Because people are so sure about their beliefs, it becomes alright to see the world in terms of us v. them. When we let this happen, we fail to see the human side of others with different beliefs. This is true of any ideology, really, and anarchists, Christians, Liberals, Conservatives, vegans, and certainly many others are guilty of this close-mindedness. Every day, my experience verifies this idea I have, that we can make connections even with people whose beliefs are of the utmost opposition to our own, because we are all the same, really. 5/28/10 I got a reasonably early start today. I'm glad to be on the road again, I felt incredibly lazy and anxious to start walking after 6 days of what I consider to be relative stillness. The road was relatively quiet, nothing too crazy except I stepped on a huge thorn. It would have been debilitating, except I was absolutely determined to get to Pyote.

Just as I was considering ending the day, I met Jackie. I had spent the latter part of the day on a lonely road, futilely waving to the few cars that passed and tired of their collective unresponsiveness. In moments like this, reaching out to others and receiving dismissal or disinterest, I begin to wonder if my life is being well spent. Is this important? Is this journey a waste of time? Another truck passed by, I waved, no response. The guy looked confused, more than anything. I probably heaved a big sigh, I don't remember. But soon, I heard the truck backing up, and this man, indeed confused, asked what I was doing, why, and various other questions. He invited me to have dinner with him back in Pecos, and we picked the bones of our ideals for the rest of the evening.

5/28/10 My legs hurt a new and persistent kind of pain last night, but I had a nice bed to sleep in, so it wasn't so bad. Jackie sent me off with some snacks for the road and an invitation to come back and stay whenever I want. The day came and went. I passed through the town of Monahans, but it's apparently a holiday so everything was closed. I just walked past it instead of stopping for the night, though I was thoroughly tired by the time I actually find a place to sleep. I encountered another rattlesnake. I camped out under the brightest moonlit sky I've ever seen in my life. It looked almost like sunrise, the sky a bright purple and the moon on fire, a spectacular and unbelievable orange. 5/30/10 Penwell, my 11 mile mark, was deader than dead. Like my camera. This was bad, because I thought I'd be able to get food here. With more than 15 miles to go in the over 100 degree heat, this was a more grave realization than I can convey. My head was swimming, and I had less than a handful of granola. My bag was heavy with water that I needed, and my knees and spine were on fire. 15 miles takes 5 hours, without breaks. I passed out under an overpass on the west side of Odessa, my final destination for the day. I don't know how long I was there, but nobody stopped to see if I was ok. Floating in and out of consciousness I was kind of sad to think about this. I got up to keep walking, to get someplace safe, still reeling with dizziness. At that moment, a white car pulled up, the people in side asking if I was alright, and inviting me to church with them. I accepted, because I saw them as warm and caring people, not to mention, they probably saved my life. Wherever they were going, I wanted to be with them. When we arrived, I was seemingly immune to scrutiny despite my ragged appearance. I'd never been to such a service, so unlike the stoic Catholic mass I grew up with. Everybody was singing, dancing, ecstatic, and I was overtaken with love and appreciation. At the end, I was surprised to find them handing me the collection they'd sent around. Somehow, all these people who had nothing to do with me felt it in their hearts to help me out, and I burst into tears of disbelief and gratitude. After church, we went to dinner and my benefactors put me up in a hotel. I can gladly say that the end of my day was a stark contrast to the experience I'd had that day on the side of the road all alone. 6/1/10 I've decided Midland is a good place to stop for the summer. With the heat stroke, rattlesnakes, and desolation of West Texas, June through August are too much to handle. This portion of the walk has been the most uneventful, though I'm committed to continuing the walk. The bleak scenery sometimes drags on slowly, filling me with an ennui that endures from sunrise til bedtime. Walking, walking walking... It seems important to take a break so that I can be excited about the walk again. So today was my last day of walking, from Odessa to Midland. Upon my arrival, the sky threatened to wreak havoc, swirls of clouds just waiting to form into funnels. A cool, calm breeze complimented a sky of deranged colors.

I decided to use the little money I had left to get a hotel room. I happened upon a very nice looking hotel, in fact, but they were asking for more than I could afford. I started to make my way out, but the proprietor, a very nice gentleman from Korea, asked how much money I had. I told him that I had 40 dollars, and he gave me the room for 30. Safe in my room, away from the craziness outside, I sat in gratitude for all the people I've encountered on this trip, and the infinite ways I've been accommodated. This human grace, if anything, is what I will look forward to upon my return to the walk. 6/2/10 I met up with Jackie this morning, the plan being to tag along while he spent his day checking oil wells. I saw the interesting communities of Kermit and Wink, passing a giant sink hole and the Roy Orbison Museum on the way. I went to church with Jackie and he sent me on my way by Greyhound, a 14 hour ride to Tucson. As usual, the bus was full of psychotics, the possessed, and those of questionable character. This time, however, the seemingly hand-picked crowd emanated an air of particularly crazed malice. I somehow convinced Albert from El Paso that nothing could be more fun than hanging out with me on my layover there at 1AM; we were an hour late, but he was there waiting, with peaches even. The rest of the trip passed relatively quickly, although the driver spilled coffee on himself and we almost flew off an overpass, and 10 miles past El Paso we had to turn around to drop off some crazy lady who started a fight with another passenger. Oh Greyhound. I got to sit next to somebody sane, which is always a luxury. He even had a laptop and we watched Pulp Fiction. But this is technically tomorrow I guess...so... 6/3/10 As is probably apparent by my rambling, yesterday bled into today over a slow lapse of hours. My head was dizzy with the rambling of neurotics all night. As the bus pulled into Tucson, I was ecstatic to see Sasha waiting for me with the morning ritual coffee and toast, and Bootlyg, my favorite doggie! Despite my tiredness, I only managed a short nap; but the day passed with the relaxing slowness that comes only with knowing you've got all the time in the world. Goodbye for now, West Texas. Love, always, Shay

There are more photos here: http://picasaweb.google.com/FakePlasticShay and here: (most recent) http://cid-d97b248810ba5cf6.skydrive.live.com/browse.aspx/New%20album

The blog, which is just a running accumulation of these emails and journalings, is here: http://fakeplasticshay.blogspot.com/

Slow down. Live simply. Seek Wonder.

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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 I want all of these things at the expense of taking risks and encountering uncertainty. _____________________________________________________________________

These travels are neither for fundraiser nor for personal profit. I seek to live as minimally as possible while traveling, and in life in general. However, I rely primarily on the kindness of others, and the faith that everything I need I will always find in one way or another. The infinite graciousness of others has kept me moving forward, day by day. Any help along the way is monumentally 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!

If you'd like to send a letter of support, please contact me for location specifics for general delivery. Thank you all so much! Love, Shay