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.

__________________________________________________________________________________

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

Somewhere in that shimmering heatwave is Lordsburg

4/30/10-5/8/10

New Mexico-yep, all of it.

Somewhere in that shimmering heatwave is Lordsburg

4/29/10

I took a "weekend" trip to Tucson, which I won't detail too much because most of it was spent hanging out with Sasha or waiting for him to not be working. Much like my first visit there. I hitched a ride back to Lordsburg after the big back-track with a trucker named Daniel, from El Salvador. The almost 200 miles flew by with unimaginable speed, as I remembered every step and every stone. I got to Lordsburg in time for an incredible wind storm, and I set to finding a place to stay so I wouldn't be blown away in the night. Inquiry after inquiry led me to a Spanish service church that had a kind of homeless hostel. They were full, but a patron offered to let me stay on the couch in her unit. I was in for some life learning when I met _________, behind whose eyes lay more than a fair share of horrors and obscurities. In Korea, she taught conversational English. In Louisiana, she'd killed a man. (In all fairness, he shot her first, while robbing her home, at that. Nevertheless, I chose not to state her name.)

Spending time with _________ reminded me that life isn't as simple as good people and bad people. There are also people who, driven by desperation, introduce into the lives of others a darkness that may be impossible to dispel. Lordsburg is a place that seems to hold people hostage, just far enough away from any place you'd want to go to get away from your life. Though it's not a bad town, I hope _________ gets out of it.

4/30/10

Leaving Lordsburg was not difficult. In fact, though it was again windy, the 20 miles I'd planned for the day went by quickly and by 5pm I found myself at a trucker store marketing all sorts of "authentic" shams. Naturally, I felt my day was done, and my rest well-earned as I arrived. Ready to sit and relax, I was deterred by an arctic chill from the people working there, most likely because (as it seems to me) people around here are unusually wary of strangers. A short walk led to an empty home, the circumstances of whose abandonment were vague but appeared catastrophic. A feeling crept into me, inexplicable yet not dismissable, that something bad remained. So I left. I didn't know where I could get in the remaining daylight, since the next thing was still 10 miles away. So I just walked until sunset. And when It got dark I ran. 3 miles more and I ended up at a rest area, where I found sanctuary from the howling wind in the handicap stall of the bathroom. 31 miles today.

A garbage bag works wonders as a shelter in brambles.

What the hell?

a view of my ashy knees while elevating my swollen feet. Who needs a digital clock? Pfff......10am. Done and done.

5/1/10 Today wasn't all that eventful during the walking part; I did half the mileage as I did yesterday, arriving at the Savoy Travel Center well before sunset. I was sitting in the lounge, contemplating how my hair had finally reached its perfect level of dirtiness when a passing trucker offered me a shower pass. A hint? I choose not to think so... Soon enough, I had everybody in the place giving me route advice and wishing me well. A particularly interesting man, Rick from Iowa, had much curiosity about my eating strategies, etc., and invited me to join him for dinner. Hours passed in a matter of minutes and I ate more than I've eaten in forever. Though he couldn't fathom my usual approach of dumpster diving, he was a well-rounded and down to earth guy. It's amazing to me how you meet people you'd never be exposed to in "real life" when you travel, particularly if you travel the way I do. Because I don't isolate myself in a car or in a hotel room, I'm in the mix with all kinds of people, even the type of people about whom others might have certain preconceived notions. Like truckers. To be honest, I've learned more about life and being a good person from the truckers in my life than almost anybody else. 5/2/10 Deming was windier than all hell when I made my entrance. After being knocked down once, and almost twice, I evacuated to a carport with a trailer, under which I spent the rest of the day waiting for the blinding dust to stop. It never did, so I stayed until morning. And that was my day... 5/3/10 I went to the Chamber of Commerce "on my way out of town." I was met by lovely, lively people with free coffee to offer me. The Deming Chamber may have single-handedly redeemed my opinion of New Mexico. (Not that I didn't like NM, but there were fewer people who treated me kindly, or talked to me at all, as in the other states.) Once I left, I found a dumpster to ditch some of the junk I'd accumulated, and I met a man named Bob. He so graciously offered me an empty trailer to sleep in, but I was on my way out of town. We talked for several more minutes, and by now it was too late in the day for me to realistically make the miles I planned, so I told him, what the heck, I would love to stay another night. A rest day seemed reasonable. Having a nice space to myself was kind of like living somewhere. For that, I am eternally grateful to Bob. The scattered belongings of a mad genius. Haha. I kid. No, really, I'm kidding. I can't say I used my free time very productively, or restfully for that matter, which is a frequent blunder I regret most on 20+ mile days. instead of resting, journaling, or mending, I paced the town all day. I guess this is just a day in my life; A rest day really means 10 miles of walking, and doing nothing useful.

My legs, doing nothing useful. I hate to admit that I went to the donut shop, but I did, and I met some more wonderful people. They sent me off with their best wishes, words of wisdom, and not to be overlooked, a bag full of yummy donuts!! I like the desert more and more every day. Go healthy living! 5/4/10 23 miles to Akela, nothing exciting (Sorry, I seem to say that a lot.But really, some days it's hard to describe in detail what walking for 8 hours is. Sometimes, it's just walking. Kind of a boring story.) Anyhow, the people at the restaurant there were very welcoming. I found some pines at the edge of a pecan grove and camped. Nice and warm.

The trees were FILLED with birds in the morning. :D

5/5/10

Again, the day was uneventful. Although I did find a bag of chips on the side of the road, open, but miraculously un-stale. There were, however, dead ants all over them, so I had to eat them one by one, furiously blowing the ants off because they were pretty well-adhered. And because I'm vegetarian. 28 miles today.

Somebody has been here before me! And walking! Read this amazing story:

Auburn's Carol Cruise comes full circle in 'faith walk' around U.S.

By MARK KLAAS Auburn Reporter Editor Nov 11 2008

Like her name suggests, the Rev. Carol Cruise is on a journey. She literally has been around the block. The Ohio woman lost her lower right leg to a medical mishap nearly 20 years ago. But that hasn’t prevented her from conducting a personal pilgrimage, a “faith walk” for God. Cruise – with the help of a prosthetic limb, and accompanied by friends and a three-legged Pomeranian fittingly named “Walker T” (the T is for Tripod) – is walking the perimeter of the United States counterclockwise. All in the name of God, country and her ministry. “It’s been awesome. I have met so many nice people along the way,” said the 54-year-old Cruise, who recently passed through Auburn’s streets on her way across Western Washington to the Oregon Coast. “I would like to say God’s carrying me every mile because I can’t do it. My doctors said I couldn’t do it.” Doctors tried to save her leg, but despite 15 surgeries and three years, they could not. She accepted the loss but gained strength in her faith. She decided to walk again, but this time with a purpose.“I’ve been blessed,” said Cruise, a single mother and former chemical dependency counselor who became an ordained minister. “I’m doing all of this on faith.” Cruise has a long way to go before she reaches her ultimate destination – South Beach, Miami – but she’s allowed herself plenty of time to get there.

On a 9-year mission

She designed her walk to stretch more than 10,000 miles and finish exactly on the day it started nine years ago. Cruise’s journey began with her first northerly steps out of Miami on Jan. 1, 2002. On New Year’s Eve 2010, Cruise plans to finish the mission with a bang, amid some fanfare and midnight fireworks in Florida. Cruise averages about 10 miles a day, with Sundays off. For every mile she walks, Cruise places a small wooden cross into the ground, marking her progress and spreading the word of her mission. Each cross is attached to a card that explains her ministry and asks the finder to pass the crucifix on. “Through this, I have become a better person, not a bitter person,” she said. A friend she met along a remote Montana highway last summer escorted Cruise on her brief visit to Auburn. Auburn’s ultra-walker, Don Stevenson, was heading east on his benefit walk for Huntington’s disease. Cruise was heading west. “Don extended an invitation to meet up again here,” Cruise said on a break from her jaunt along the north Auburn sidewalks. “I’m glad I came.” Added Stevenson: “She’s a remarkable person.” Cruise intends to follow the coastline to San Diego before turning eastward toward Corpus Christi, Texas, and eventually, South Florida. Just last week, Auburn – precisely at the intersection of Auburn Way North and 37th Street Northeast – represented the 6,125th mile. Wendi Miller, a friend, stays nearby, driving a support vehicle. Donations from well-wishers, churches, organizations and businesses generously support the walk. A New Hampshire firm, for instance, donated the last three prosthetic legs. Cruise currently is pounding the pavement on her seventh one. The walk is a testimony to her inspiration and devotion, and a way to pray and spread the good word. “There have been so many changes in my life,” she said. “My faith is so much larger than when I started.” This woman makes me look like small potatoes! I'm inspired, nonetheless.

5/6/10

Today I reached the first sizable city since Tucson, now 3 weeks and 300 miles behind me. Looking down into the city from a vantage point some 10 miles before, I was awestruck by land a vivid green I'd not seen since leaving my beloved coast. I was little deterred by having to walk on the interstate as I barreled down toward verdant fields that rest at the foot of the Organ Mountains.

The Rio Grande proved an insurmountable obstacle on foot, at least without adding a hell of a lot of miles. Finding me confusedly ambling about, a nice man in a big truck offered to take me across. I got in, he spilled his iced tea everywhere, and in moments I was in Las Cruces. I found the grocery co-op, Mountain View market, which was every bit the cultural mecca I was expecting it to be. From the free samples at the entrance to the "Here's a plate of broccoli, you look hungry!" I was enthralled and impressed to find such a place with such people in it.

http://www.mountainviewmarket.com/retailer/store_templates/shell_id_1.asp?storeID=A38B9850AA84474892FC42D8840973D6

I stopped by a local shelter, which was run by a church. This was fine with me until they got pushy with their beliefs, even requiring that all patrons go to church in order to stay. I declined the invitation for a stay, simply because I think humanitarian aid is only such when there are no strings attached. And furthermore, faith is a wonderful thing to share, and an invitation to be included in a spiritual gathering is most enriching; However, it should never be used as a pre-requisite for the desperate to receive help. (not that I see myself as part of this group) Forced worship is a disservice both to faith and to community service in the name of faith. I love culture and belief, but they can only be beautiful when sincere. I said my thank-yous, went to the university library, and used the internet until campus quieted down enough to camp undetected.

5/7/10

I rose at 5am, in part because the birds were mercilessly noisy, and in part for fear of being arrested in my clandestine camping spot. Without much else to do at this hour, I sat and waited for sunrise. The sun itself didn't seem all that enthusiastic to get up today. After several hours of nothing in particular I found myself again at the co-op, indulging in a free cup of coffee paired with free hummus, offered up by two of the many awesome employees I met there. Full and happy, I wandered around towns, exploring neighborhoods and taking photos.

At some point I became very disoriented, as many of the streets just veer of in some direction never to return, and other simply change names for no reason. I think I literally had my hands in the air, saying "what the fuck!" out loud to myself, both passing by and walking on Idaho st, when a car pulled up next to me. (how can you be on a street that is perpendicular to itself?!) A pretty girl in sunglasses smiled and asked "Are you hungry? Do you need anything?" I said no, but told her that I was lost as all hell. As a car came up behind, she invited me to get in, and soon we were at the coffee shop I was looking for. She had to go to work, but we enjoyed at least a short bit of conversation, including her interest in joining me out of Las Cruces for a few miles.

Spirit Winds is a locally owned gift shop and cafe whose interior certainly captures the spirit of the southwest culture. With bright green walls and cement flooring, it's a cozy and cool refuge from the beating sun outside. Local art graces the walls, and tapestries with quotes of inspiration remind me, in more or less words, to make each day count.

After sparking up some more conversation with the ladies of the shop, I acquired a generous donation of bagels and scones, as well as new and exciting friendship, and a place to stay for the evening.

Jovanna, a young lady whose awesomeness cannot be fathomed without meeting her firsthand, took me to her place where we freshened up, and we then went to a local brewpub and met up with the other ladies.

Her place was amazing! It had all the charm of a college home--not that of a beer-drinking, slovenly frat boy college home. But full of interesting art and books and stuff. Fancy, but simple.

And, bummer, I just realized I deleted the best photos I took of her house :/ Waking up here was just the good start to the day I needed to push forward. A nice, early start, and I was on my way toward the ever-mysterious El Paso. What awaits me there a few days' time will reveal.

It's hard to believe that the entire state, well a good chunk of it, has flown by so fast. Only several days ago Colin said, as we ended a long day in the middle of nowhere, "Somewhere in that shimmering heatwave is Lordsburg." Now it's so many miles behind me, Colin has parted ways to start his job, and the rest of New Mexico has come and gone. I continue alone in the desert, left only with my wits and sensibility...eeeh...

Well, wish me luck. 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.

__________________________________________________________________________________

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

Laughing, Soaring

4/16/10-4/26/10

Tucson, AZ- Lordsburg, NM

Laughing, Soaring

4/16

Waking up to the sunrise on a rooftop with a dear friend, I feel I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be in life, doing the things that make life worth living. Every day brings new people to love and fresh opportunities to choose the exciting over the mundane. (Like camping on a roof!)

Tucson has been for me a haven of love and rest, but temporary as any other, and once again goodbyes had to be said. It's harder to do in some places, which is the case here. After a sweet little breakfast, courtesy of Sasha, of dumpstered vegetables salad and espresso, I prepared for the open road again.

Colin and I reunited after our "weekend" with our respective friends and some solitude, and met up with Mina, who we met on our way into town.

She decided to join our adventure this morning, after we convinced her a skateboard would be utterly useless in the desert. She was quite the trooper, though her walking feet were new.

Unfortunately, this is the only photo we were able to get of Mina. We parted ways with her, seemingly prematurely, but with the hope that she would rejoin in a day or two. Also unfortunately, she never did return. This walking across America thing just isn't for everybody, I suppose. But I was glad she gave it a go!

4/17

We spent a good part of the day waiting for a bearable walking climate. In the sparse shade we found, I used my pocket knife to skin and chop up a nopal and was thrust back to my upbringing, trying to maneuver the slimy bits as they collected every bit of sand even in the air, it seemed. You may say the desert is dead, but I will tell you it is alive and FULL of prickles.

Photo courtesy of Tim and Annette

Source: http://www.sxc.hu/photo/5395

We probably did about 15 miles before we let ourselves think of stopping. Just as I began to consider how poorly planned my rations were, a road fairy happened along, bearing the delights of cheese pizza and a camping recommendation; upon following her advice, we descended into a lush, green dream of a spot, and at once I felt I could be content staying here forever. In a deep creek wash under the greenest trees I've seen since leaving the coast, the evening air was warm and felt like home.

4/18

Rocks. Cactus. Hot.

The road to Benson is never-ending. Upon leaving Tucson, I'd somehow gotten the idea that we had only 20 some miles to go before getting to it. As it turned out, after a couple full days of walking and plenty of ambiguous estimates from locals, to b more like 44 miles. 44 miles on the interstate, mind you, so this really meant more like 46 or 47. But who knows. Not 20.

But since it's Sunday, we got to walk on a new road that's under construction, and it seemed it was created just so we could walk in comfort--not paved, but smooth. We even found a nice reservoir of some sort to jump into. Oh yes, and we met Nathan, who gave us water and mac and cheese just as I thought I might die of starvation. Not really of course, but as anybody who's had the pleasure of being around a hungry Shay will tell you... I get really grumpy.

4/19

Well, we got to Benson.

When we were about a mile away, it seemed too good to be true, since each day we thought we were within a few miles, new estimates revealed the same numbers as the days before. Benson always seemed to be about 12 miles away, no matter how much time had passed between asking people.

Now was the perfect time for the road to end, the shrubbery to densify, and the hills to become almost unmanageable in the midst.

Where in the world was the exit?

An hour later...

The safeway dumpster redeemed a morning full of brambles, rocks, and barbed wire fences. Our first order of business earned us half a tiramisu cake, some eclairs, good seed bread, and some nasty pub cheese. We were given the blessing of some particularly generous and eccentric ladies, and they also gave us donuts!

Benson was just as tricky to leave as it was to get into. The wind was high as soon as we set out to walk, and it wasn't immediately clear where, or whether at all, there'd be a back-road, or even walkable terrain. By noon it seemed we'd been at it all day without getting anywhere. I suppose one always knows there will be days like this, and it's just as much a part of the experience as the good days.

4/20

Today was a LOT of hills. We've climbed a couple thousand feet in a day or two. We stopped in Dragoon for a break, but I decided I couldn't walk another mile. Plus, the rock formations were spectacular.

4/21

When you're having a bad day, any object will defy the laws of physics just to annoy you.

UNIVERSE, STOP FUCKING WITH ME!!

It just turned into one of those days...something in the air...

Walking out of Willcox, irritated, I passed a livestock lot, and headed over, hoping a communion with my fellow beasts would replenish my good spirits. But who could have known the anguish that would soon fill me, as I looked into their frightened eyes. Gentle, inquisitive creatures, they would have been my friends if only humans had shown them a kinder way of interacting. As things were, they could only stare, wide-eyed, wondering if I would harm them. Some bore multiple brandings, showcasing the merciless lack of skill on the behalf of somebody who's never been branded. They looked sick. What I would give to see them roaming free, eating grass and nuzzling their babies. I cried so hard as I imagined their suffering, wishing I could set them free, or at least communicate with them my love and sorrow. Oh dear cows. I cried and cried and cried...

I decided, being such an uncontrollable emotional mess, that I needed a day to walk alone. So I told Colin I would find him in Bowie, and watched him walk off until he was a small dot. I contemplated my decision, hoping I'd be able to handle the challenges on my own, and knowing that I'd have to.

I sat, quietly, and still, until I felt ready.

I felt so small in the universe, but unafraid.

The wind was high, unrelenting. I felt at home on the hillside, laughing, soaring. Antelope ran from me and in this moment they were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

I began to tire of the continual climb and drop of the terrain; My feet had started hurting hours ago. It began to rain, lightly at first, then steadily harder until I thought it would be wise to to take cover. For the first time in 10 miles there was not a tunnel in sight. It began to hail. FUCK. hail hurts. I found one fortress of a tunnel, finally, but by the time I could make my way into it I was soaked.

Then the rain stopped.

Go figure. Settling in now would mean one hell of a morning to walk, but I didn't want to chance it.

The tunnel was immensely windy, so I took post in a deep and narrow channel covered by a small tree. It was very rocky so I slept on my backpack. It rained steadily, but my bag seemed to hold up alright.

UNTIL...

I got flooded in, mud everywhere and water seeping into the zipper. I woke up essentially in a creek, and getting out was disastrously uncomfortable. I dragged my things down a sharp incline, falling into mud more than once, to try the tunnel again. It was monstrously dark, and I had to leave my flashlight on to help the swallows relocated their nests once I scared them out. The poor things flew outside and I could imagine their misery, so I stayed up, shining a beacon lamp for about 30 minutes until they returned to their nests, safe and warm. The night passed painfully slowly. it seemed cold water permeated my very bones, and maybe my soul as I contemplated my smallness, and my aloneness. How very much I wished for warmth or company, just one would have sufficed.

This was one of the loneliest moments of my life.

4/22

Today is, so far, a much better day. The swallows were alive and well, singing their praises to the sun, though it wasn't even up yet. It was probably about 5 when I woke, and 6 when I got up, though it was hard to discern the time as the sky was gray all over. I had my work cut out for me, with 13 miles to make before noon. I made about 6 miles when it appeared that my back-road was ending, and just then a border patrol vehicle approached. 2 officers emerged, wondering--in a friendly enough manner--what, exactly i was doing. Ironically enough Colin and I were joking the other day about being stopped by border patrol and having to present I.D., being brown and all. They gave me some good advice, and were quite surprised at my camping out despite all the human trafficking going on. We've seen the encampments of border hoppers everywhere, and my only commentary is it's sad to see how much it devastates the landscape.

Anyhow...

The moment I walked into Bowie, Colin came running toward me; We were happy to see each other, and I was glad to be done with my ordeal, having passed the test.

I walked to the truck stop at the end of town, in search of coffee and maybe conversation. Some nice gentleman stopped to talk to me, and bought me coffee. Walking back to meet Colin, I encountered the same gales and rain as before, and my hands were frozen painfully shut. I knew I'd never dry off if I slept outside, and after last night I couldn't imagine sleeping in that again. On the verge of mental breakdown, I met an angel named Rachel, a local who spends her time writing to prisoners and tending to her many pets. She welcomed us in with open arms, knowing herself what it's like to sleep outside in the cold. Even though she was already housing an extra person, she found us space in her laundry room. Her home has all the feel of a small town shanty, little and low-ceilinged, well loved and lived-in.

I took the nicest, hottest shower I've ever taken. Oh my, there is nothing better in all the world. We got all our laundry done too, which, between the two of us isn't even a full small load. I was immeasurably grateful not to be sleeping outside.

4/23

Again the day began gray, and I was uninspired to venture out too early. Rachel and I spent the morning in, sipping coffee and enjoying a small breakfast of oatmeal. By 7 I was anxious to get out, but my motivation didn't surmount my aversion to cold until just before 8. I got some batteries at the haphazardly outfitted Bowie Market. Bowie's streets, few and narrow, invited me to capture the essence of small town America. The clouds above cast a dusky, storm-threatening aura over the scene, as though the world might very well end today.

Ragamuffin dogs tentatively followed behind, wary of a newcomer with a shiny device, curiously stopping to view through the lends the many views of each object encountered. At the edge of town, I found the community center; As I walked in I was greeted by Sharon, a real community savior, who began this project in an effort to establish a safe resource for the citizens of Bowie. With a smile, she approached me, speaking words that are magic to any soul in need: "What can I do to help?"

That said, I made myself a PB&J, used the computer, and sat in the warmth for a bit.

4/26

Since leaving Bowie may camera has again died and I have again slacked on writing in the journal. The only big event was crossing into New Mexico, but even this wasn't all that exciting since there was no water there. Stopping for a moment to realize the accomplishment, I realized I was going to miss Arizona and the flag that I've come to love seeing everywhere. New Mexico, after looking more closely at my maps, is turning out to be possibly a more dire prospect than Texas itself, due to the extent that things are spread out. But...

Ya! trompin' state lines like it ain't no thang!

This morning Colin met up with the Continental Divide hikers at the border. It was hard to say goodbye after a month, 500 miles, and the entire state of Arizona had passed between us. being the person i woke up with, spent my entire day with every day, and said goodnight to, Colin became, in the truest sense of the word, my companion. Hugging in the park, I felt such an appreciation for the connection we'd made, which I'm sure will last a long time. tears welled up in my eyes as the moment flew by, though I wished I could prolong its ending. Oh, Colin, dear friend, I will think of you often.

Thus starts a new chapter in my journey. With only a couple of dollars remaining, I now brace a drop into a tumultuous part of the country, hoping that my wits and charm will get me through Texas. But I'm getting ahead of myself... New Mexico first.

Once again, until next time..... 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/ _____________________________________________________________________________________ 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! ___________________________________________________________________________ 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

Many wonders that have come to feel like home

3/22/10-4/14/10

AZ: Wendon to Tucson

Many wonders that have come to feel like home

3/22

With my shoe as a pillow, lying in a shallow wash, I observed the many shooting stars I'd have missed if I'd been anywhere else in the world last night. Come to think of it, on any given night I spend under a roof, I miss the many wonders of the evening that have come to feel like home more than any house ever has. We spent the night in a town called Wendon, which, for whatever reason, tugs at my heartstrings.

Coming to curve in the road at the end of the day, a perfect moment overtook me. I wanted to capture it in words, but some moments are meant to be emblazoned in our minds yet incommunicable to others. These are the moments that belong solely to us, or something like that. All I can put to words at this point is this: the purple twilight conquered the last hanging strip of yellow in the sky as a bush full of grackles screamed their joyous song, and the dusty town now behind us winked goodnight as we went to look for camp. What a luscious evening.

3/23

On my way to find more of those perfect moments, George and our new friend Javier pulled up in a vehicle and scared me as I approached the town's only market. Whisking us away at speeds now unfathomable, Javier had a grand plan to keep us cool in the desert heat. Lake Havasu, which rests at the border or Arizona and California, was our day's destination. Colin and I ended up being the only ones to swim, but I think we all had a great time anyhow.

Javi took care of me and Colin, though George sat this one out and I ended up drinking Colin's afterall...

Later in the evening, we sat down for a cozy evening in a bookstore and Javi and I discussed our various wanderlusts. We even spent the night in a hotel! How novel!

3/27

We ravage dumpsters in the morning and sleep in fields of quail at night.

Hassayampa river preserve, our home for an evening.

Everything is perfect, though I'm continually reminded that I have much to learn about life and love; in every moment there is a choice to hold on or let go, to bend or to stiffen, to scrutinize or let it be. Life at present is the new standard for future experiences in some ways.

3/29

It's Monday, though that has a drastically different meaning for the structure of my day than it has for most. We arrived in the Phoenix area Saturday, Peoria to be exact. It's been a most welcome stint of domestic living, staying with Brooke and Mike and their 6 year old daughter Olivia. Reconnecting with loved ones over spans of time and distance, I feel ambivalent about communication by networks of signals and invisible forces carrying messages at speeds not humanly possible. Contact is a joy, and yes a responsibility, as is journaling, or for that matter anything that pulls me even momentarily away from life as an in-the-moment practice. Though I've never been one to chat leisurely on the phone, I have now an even greater appreciation for the scarcity of telephone conversation, which is down to about 15 minutes a month (!!) For the past couple of weeks, life has been simple. The road provides. 400 miles have passed under my feet, and never have I been for want, though I spend my last dollar more than a month ago. I still have a way to go in terms of handling the difficult without complaint, but I'm learning.

Today, I sit at the base of a monumental rock formation in Sedona. My legs are red with dust and the morning sunshine dispels the lingering sleepiness of my 5am rising. Blisters prevented me from doing the hike that everyone else got to do, but I used the time to journal and almost finish reading 2001 Space Oddyssey.

4/1

For the first time in 13 years, I sit in the waiting room of a dentist's office. Yesterday morning while eating breakfast, The damn tooth that's been the hell of my life for 6 months finally broke in half and fell out. Well, half of it fell out. Javi had offered to help me have it fixed, but I hesitate to take people up on such monumental offers of kindness. I suppose something catastrophic had to happen to motivate me to get this tooth taken care of, so it's finally coming out of my face and I'm glad to see it go.

Sitting under a warm, bright light and the scrutiny of the dentist and assistant, I felt vaguely like a lizard in a terrarium. Though I could feel no pain, the sheer pressure of the tugging and pushing lets you know something very violent is happening to your face. This was stressful, as your face is not meant to undergo this type of violence. After about an hour, the top left molar was finally out, much larger than I ever would have imagined. Yay!

I was about to walk out of Phoenix, not having found anything that interested me terribly, when I saw a sign for vegan donuts. I hesitated, knowing that I had no money and was inevitably going to want donuts, but I figured, well where there are vegan donuts there are usually cool people. Sure enough, I stumbled upon Conspire Cafe, and Lauren Farrah, a good friend of many good friends in Monterey's Food not Bombs crew.

4/2

Sitting at Conspire Cafe, reading Traveling America Broke, I accidentally met its author, Joey Grether. I'd actually met him yesterday not knowing he was the mastermind behind this testament to living on the move and in debauchery. He and I can agree on one thing (and probably many others:) The Universe Provides. It's clear that this place and the people who congregate here are the saving grace of this city. Contemplating life over a donated bottomless cup of coffee, I'm surrounded by the "my people" of Phoenix, who are busying themselves with my kind of things.

I was going to move on right out of town, but got convinced by many a kindred soul to stay for this going-to-be-epic-weekend, so I did.

I ventured out to First Friday, the art happening that's once a month. Walking toward the cafe, all I cold see were colorful lights and swarms of people. I'd stolen--I mean found... an orange vinyl sign from a construction fixture and fashioned a "Walking Across America" sign. Soon I set out to prowl the art galleries, maneuvering through the dense crowds that had accumulated to appreciate the gifts of locals.

The sign attracted almost more attention than I could handle, and I met some life-changing people. One of them offered me a place to sleep within 5 minutes of meeting me, and I got to snuggle with a doggy and a kitty while sleeping.

4/3

I'm so glad I decided to stay! I woke up relatively early and migrated to the cafe. I ran into the cycling couple I had met last night (Awesome folks who are riding across the country right now.) We talked for quite awhile and I fell so in love with them. You can read about their travels here:

www.nobaddaysfordays.blogspot.com

www.weareallsosmall.blogspot.com

We also met a local artist who was very supportive of our travels and sent us off with genuine encouragement. The really really free market was this morning, one of my primary motivations for staying. Not that I need to accumulate more stuff...We filled the day with subsequent visits to the lot of free goods, acquiring the components for the most ridiculous outfits we could put together.

4/10

Only a day away from Tucson now, the week has flown by smoothly. Already missing the lively friends I made in Phoenix, I look forward to lowering my sails at the next welcoming port. Sitting outside Circle K on a pile of rocks, I'm thinking of how full of rocks my life has been recently. Maybe I notice only because my feet have been rendered useless and shredded beyond recognition. The donuts we scavenged are about more than I can handle, so I have no trouble remembering never to worry for provisions.

Since leaving Phoenix, we've made about an average of 15 miles a day, my favorite places being Picacho Peak and Marana. I tumbled into the Chevron parking lot in Picacho, under a barbed wire fence at which I was swearing profusely. I can say with full confidence that I did not handle this day with any grace whatsoever. Without much water on underestimated miles, I felt every circumstance to be ultimately and personally punishing. Maybe if not for this, I wouldn't have fallen so much into loving appreciation for the deep, tree enshrouded wash that gave me warm and sandy shelter when the cruel sun set. The train passed a couple times an hour, extremely loud but surprisingly comforting. Mice carried on their business, not bothered by my very near presence. In Marana, we slept beside an open field, against a fence behind a pizza shop whose dumpster was noteworthily not prolific. Another dusty little town, home to little houses with clotheslines and packs of dogs for pets.

4/13

TUCSON!!

Epic cafe: a place much like any other where people come to babble their profound insights, or sit patiently waiting for one to come along.

My new friend, Chris, babbling something not quite profound or insightful ;)

I knew this was going to be my cafe as soon as I saw the name. Afterall, I've adopted this superlative, not so modestly, for all of my recent undertakings. I'm thrown back in time, back in Big Sur with Joshua and Ruth in the volvo, careening through the redwoods when "Where is My Mind," by the Pixies, comes on. I'm comfortable at my table, sitting next to the spirit of a former fellow patron whose table is still reserved for him long after he's left the physical realm. It's nice to have a home for a few days, and the prospect of resting makes me feel a little normal again.

4th Avenue is everything it promised to be. The sidewalks are graced with bicycle art such as garbage cans made of salvaged forks, faux parking meter bike racks, and lots of traveler types roaming around. Bikes speed by more frequently than cars, carrying people of all types.

4/13

I met a fellow who is walking the Continental Divide Trail in a couple of weeks, which trumps my walk by terrain anyhow. He let us stay in his back yard, and gave us a grand tour of the Dunbar Springs neighborhood.

We explored the community garden, whose gate boasted flowers fashioned from bike pedals

and whose garbage can displayed my FAVORITE passage from The Lorax:

"But now", says the Once-ler, "Now that you're here, the word of the Lorax seems perfectly clear. UNLESS someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better.  Its not.

We then looked at a cyclist memorial built completely from bike parts and made to look like a little chapel.

Our exploration was concluded with one of the best bike co-ops I've seen in the country. The building itself housed artist lofts above, and the co-op, Bicas, below. Some creative features included a bike purgatory, a wall of forks, and a bike art nook. 

Later on, in my new dress (Chris gifted me a new dress that I found at Goodwill, more lightweight than my previous one, so I now have a new every day only article of clothing.) we went on an excursion to the Saguaro National Forest, of unimaginable beauty. A short hike to a rocky vantage point gave my legs a refreshing challenge. I never could have imagined cacti could form a forest, but a I stood in amazement, all I could see were the spiny figures populating the mountainside. Who knew!

4/14

The day started off the way any day should: I found 2 oreos (which are vegan, by the way) in a smashed pile of them in a back alley.

Walking around at sunrise!

When I got to the coffee shop I saw a man throw away half of his bagel because it fell on the floor. That makes me sad. There are people who survive on other people's wasted food, which is often the case for myself. But in a few minutes, I made a friend and was given some couscous that would have otherwise been discarded. Oh happy day!

It's Wednesday and every day in Tucson gets better. I finally found a Food not Bombs friend, and got to check out the Earth First journal house that they work from. I soon had the fortune of a nap in a hammock today, and it wouldn't have been so had I not met this monumental Sasha. What a magnificent person! I'll not soon forget him, or his sneaky goats who we had to coax back into their pens when they knocked down the barricade keeping them in. In two days I will continue to walk, though I feel the inevitable pull of a place whose people come to be loved ones.

And the many wonders that have come to feel like home.

Over and Out.

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/ _____________________________________________________________________________________ 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! ___________________________________________________________________________ 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