So, since I was asked, the short version: I sold as much of my stuff as I could and hit the highway with about five-hundred 1994 dollars. It was mid-May, I headed south first, hoping to see New Orleans, and then make the crossing where it was warmer (I didnt have an inkling how warm it would be down there). A good friend (you know who you are) put me up in Alabama for a solid month with no charge. I recall my only real expense was a new pair of Chuck Taylors and a matinee of Batman Returns. Having spent an indeterminate amount of time foundering in New Orleans (A weekend? A week?), I headed west. I ate canned spaghettios almost exclusively, occasionally treating myself to a crusty bread and some cheese. Slept behind gas stations after theyd closed, or otherwise in empty campground lots, and try to light out before the owners woke up to charge me. Ill gloss over some stuff, here, but Texas is big. The Grand Canyon is a tourist trap. In New Mexico the lighting may be yellow, and they got tiny white frogs that come out in the morning like bugs. If you ride long enough, you can hallucinate that the Mojave desert is full of trees. I very coincidentally, and fortuitously, ran out of both gas and money (and the bike totally choked) as I pulled into another good friends driveway in Petaluma, CA. Took the first job there I could get, at a movie theater.
Posted on: Mon, 31 Mar 2014 00:45:07 +0000