My Angel.

I have written about the kindness of people over and over since I started this adventure. Every time I'm on the receiving end of a random act of kindness from a stranger it confirms my suspicions that the world is made up of amazing individuals; it's not the scary world we see on TV.

If you've been with me since the beginning you may remember the mystery man who appeared at my last yard sale and handed me an envelope with a donation for my trip. To refresh, a gentleman approached me, I introduced myself and he replied by saying who he was was not important. We talked about travel and he briefly shared some of his own experiences. He handed me an envelope, told me to put it in a safe place and wished me well on my travels. He was not someone I knew and was very clear on remaining anonymous. Rarely do you see someone make such a gesture and absolutely refuse any kind of praise or recognition. My father says there's a name for someone who secretly gives (it appears in his crosswords a lot); angel.

Yesterday the mystery man struck again, this time in the form of a mystery woman. She walked into Argyle Fine Art and handed over an envelope with my name on it while keeping her lips sealed. When asked if the envelop should be passed on to me she replied simply, yes. When asked if she's like to say who it is from she said nothing, quietly slipping out the door. Inside was a donation and another vintage postcard with a similar message as the first; "for your next trip, vaya con dios".

(I hope by publishing images of the postcards I'm not risking the anonymity of my donators.)

I'm still in a state of shock.  Yes, the donation will be put to good use but it really is the gesture that brings me to tears. There must be something about what I originally considered a selfish venture that has struck a cord with these two individuals. I know from emails I have received that what people are relating to is the idea of freedom. People's letters talk about how they traveled when they were younger or they always wanted to travel but 'life got in the way'. The barter van blog is a way for them to live vicariously through me. I had no idea starting out how many people have similar dreams of the open road and how few actually get the opportunity to do it. I thank my lucky stars every day and never forget those who support me and cheer me on as I get ready for the next adventure.

Whoever and wherever you are I hope you are reading this. Thank you isn't near a strong enough sentiment for what you have done.

You are my angels.

Do you have an angel in your life or have you been one to someone else?

Coincidences?

I have talked before about coincidences and the universe, or whatever it is, providing me with what I need, even when I don't realize what I'm asking for. Remember the cabin at the Grand Canyon I was given just when I was starting to feel a bit lost on the road? Or Okie showing up in my life after I had to give up the dog I adopted to join me for my journey? There are countless examples of this...and here's another one.

My original plan was to stay with my good friends and their family from February until I was ready to head back out on the road. Three days ago I received an email from my ex-boss asking where I was going to stay when I return home. Her house was available to rent if I needed it. I thanked her for the offer but told her I had already made arrangements. The next day Adriana, the owner of Argyle Fine Art, emailed and informed me three of my pieces at the gallery sold. Great news, I thought, knowing I could use that money during my stay. Not to mention it's always very flattering when someone likes something I've made enough to purchase it and hang it on their wall.

So, yesterday I was feeling a bit restless and decided to take Okie and I on a hike. There are tons of  bird trails here so I didn't have to go far. During our walk I reflected on what I was told about meditating recently. I have never invested much time in meditation even though I know someone like me could sure benefit from it. This person put it to me a different way which I could relate to more. Instead of sitting in silence and trying to let your mind go, she takes time during whatever she's doing, say, during a conversation, and reminds herself she is in the moment; ie, my foot is moving, the air smells flowery, I'm holding a cup of coffee, and so on. For her, it brings her into the exact moment she is living in and helps her feel more connected to the now. As I walked, I tried her technique and it works well for me. Knowing I'm leaving so soon has made me wish I had this practice earlier. I believe it helped me realize my new plan.

As I walked all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Why hadn't I thought of this already? The money from my recent sales at the gallery could pay for renting the house. This would give me a studio space to work, so to speak, and all the quiet I could handle in order to create the type of work I want. After my exhibition opening in March I will move into my friends place for two months with a clear head and no distractions. I can simply enjoy their company and hopefully pick up some paid work. Adding to this amazing conclusion is the fact my boss' tenants were originally going to stay until March but recently decided to leave the end of January, just in time for me to arrive.

I can't begin to tell you how amazing it all is that this has come together. It's another example of how envisioning what you want and working towards it helps make it happen. I didn't know I needed a place all to myself for a couple months while putting the show together but now that it has been offered it's EXACTLY what I need. Thanks again Universe. I won't let you down.

Shrines and bikers and hooligans, oh my.

On Friday night I met a few people in the park who took a liking to me and offered to take me out the next night. We started with an old shrine built by a man in the 20s, then to a great restaurant and ended the evening with drinks at a seedy fishing shack/bar.

From Wikipedia; The story of St. Anne's Shrine goes like this: A man from Canada, (believed to be Napoleon Pelletier) came down to Florida with his very sick son. His son had been diagnosed as terminally ill. While traveling in Florida, they came upon the little lake at what is now St. Anne's. They swam and camped there and the boy's condition improved, and he was miraculously cured. His cure was attributed to the healing waters, and so the man single-handedly built a shrine to St. Anne, a popular Canadian saint associated with water, in an oak hammock next to the lake. The Catholic Church eventually demolished most of the church, leaving only the altar. Several stone walls, and the original steps of the church remain.

 

While there, I mentioned to them I wished I had something to leave on the altar. Janet just happened to have some Christmas ornaments in her car and amongst them were two angels. They had survived a bad car accident she and her mother were in so they had great significance to her.  Saying a prayer, they placed them on the altar. It was a lovely way to end our visit.

From Cherry Pocket's website; According to folklore Cherry Pocket was discovered in the late forties by two men, one named Mr. Cherry.  Because of the way the land lays with the canals, they thought it looked like a pocket, therefore... CHERRY POCKET. It was a place for hardy fishermen and very few women.  Rumor has it at distant times there have been cock-fighting, gambling, gator wrestling and of course lots of "Big Fish" caught in Lake Pierce and many "Big Fish Stories" to go along with that.

The Tavern started out as a small room with a front door and a back door, a few groceries and bait and tackle.  We've heard stories of men riding their horses in the front door of the tavern for a drink and out the back door.  We also heard stories of men coming in the front door and flying out the back door with a little help from someone's fist.  

Cherry Pocket is found in the middle of nowhere. The closest town is Lake Wales, where I am staying, about 20 minutes down a windy road. Their website shows a pretty place with beautifully presented food. What I saw was something completely different. When we arrived at 8:30 there was no one left but bikers and a few other stragglers. The door was opened for us by what looked like a 12 year old boy but was actually a woman. The bartender was an older bleach-blond woman with tattoos up and down her body and all the waitresses were similarly adorned. The music was provided by a 30-something country guy and his guitar who belted out old tunes by Johnny Cash, Hank Williams and Mike Ness. The beer was cheap and I bought the first round for my new friends. This was my kind of place!

I've met quite a few people in my folks community, all whom I like a lot, but I would be willing to bet these three are the hooligans in the park. I'm happy to have met them.

Preparing to go....again.

As I prepare to make the trek back to Nova Scotia I have a flood of memories from the past four months. It's been an amazing journey and it's hard to accept this part is coming to and end, but with an end there is also a new beginning.

I had originally planned to head straight home without wandering or exploring, due to dwindling funds, but I am now reconsidering. I was reminded by my step-mother that if I choose to do that my journey actually ended a month ago when I arrived in Florida.  I have had some wonderful adventures here as well, ie hanging with Larry in the Everglades, but I have mostly been working day in and day out on creating new work. My representing gallery, Argyle Fine Art, has a group exhibition every January called Pre-Shrunk. Every submitted piece measures 4x5 inches and it attracts all kinds of artists form all sorts of disciplines. I spent the better part of December creating new work to submit to the show and finally got them sent off in the mail. The new pieces for my donators are also on their way to their new homes. Thanks once again to all of you!

Adding a patina to the aluminum with Muriatic acid.

Finished pieces.

I am heading home a month earlier than I had intended so I can work on a new exhibition, opening March 22nd at Argyle, featuring images from this journey. I am excited to have the opportunity to show new stuff and have been working very diligently to make it happen while trying to ignore the fact that it's hot and sunny outside. As I keep telling myself though, there are worse things than having to stay inside to work on my art. This is all such a dream come true and I can't wait to get back in the studio, when I find one that is. The last time I put together a show I used the barter system to gain access to a studio. I traded a bike I wasn't using for the use of my friends studio space. (Maybe that's where the barter van idea originally came from) I love it when two people get something they want without having to dig into their pockets.

The time has flown but I have no regrets and am so grateful for everything I've experienced, both good and bad. I was once told a long time ago that life will flow much easier when you're not fighting against the tide. When you follow the path you truly want and not what you think you should do. Now, I'm not saying these past five months have entirely been a walk in the park but it sure seems like everything is working out fairly close to the way I imagined. I would dare to say even better than I could have hoped.

So, the van is washed and my father reattached the front bumper, which I just noticed had rusted off on the drivers side. My art supplies have been put back in the van, I've pulled out my gloves and winter hat and I have all the emergency road condition numbers written down. I have enjoyed so much spending time here this last month and while I am sad to be leaving my folks, and all their spoiling of me, I'm looking forward to seeing all the people at home who have stayed with me and supported my crazy endeavors. As much as I am a loner, I could never have done any of this without the strong support system I have.

Now I just have to mentally prepare myself for the cold weather. I can't wait to see what Okie thinks of snow!

Part 3; saying goodbye to the hitchhiker

Once in a while I meet a person who has a profound impact on me. Larry the hitchhiker is one. Don't get me wrong, I have met many wonderful people whom I hope to have lasting friendships with and I don't wish to belittle our interactions by any means. Sometimes though, your path crosses with someone who changes your outlook on life forever.

Larry is a 35 year old divorcee who got tired of his desk job and decided to head to the Everglades from Kansas...on foot! He was tired of feeling like he was trapped, sold all his belongings and said so long to his friends and family, not knowing if he would return. He is almost completely off the grid. He has no phone or watch and only checks in when he passes a library to let them know he is still alive.  I thought I had made a simple life for myself living in a van and then I meet someone like him who has chosen the most basic way of traveling. What I was considering roughing it was luxury to him. Perked coffee instead of instant, drinking from a mug and having fresh vegetables in a meal was a real treat for him and I was happy to share.

We talked for hours about the way the media presents the world verses how we have experienced it. We shared stories on the generosity and hospitality of complete strangers and how amazing it is that people are so trusting. We gabbed and gabbed about the lives and friends we left behind and what we hope for our future. Then we would travel in silence watching the towns whiz by. He was always up for doing anything or nothing at all, appreciating both equally. Nothing seemed to bother him and we traveled together like we were old friends. We also shared the same feelings of sincerely wanting to remain single. Neither one of us are bitter about love or relationships, I truly do love love, but both understand that our nomadic choices do not include another person. It was especially nice for me to not have to worry about the awkwardness that sometimes comes from hanging with guys. We were just friends. It was wonderful.

We had a great last day together in Gibsonton where we had breakfast and then sat by a river basking in the sun for most of the day. In the evening we went to a chili cook-off at the towns fair. I was to head east to my fathers and him, south. I drove him to the edge of town where we hugged and said our goodbyes then he disappeared into the woods. As I drove away I could feel a real sense of loss and got a bit teary eyed. This was partly because I knew I may never see him again and partly because he was off on another adventure and mine was coming to a stop for a while. I miss him but I know this is how things go on the road. Paths cross and then diverge but I am left with wonderful memories.

Part 2; swimming with manatees & drinking with carnies.

In the morning the hitchhiker and I wake early and make coffee. I perk my coffee in an old perk given to me by a friend. Larry usually lives off of instant so it’s a big treat for him. While I’m packing up the van he brings me the only thing he has that resembles a birthday cake, a strawberry newton,  and tells me to make a wish. This small gesture means more to me than he knows.

Packed up and ready to go, we head into the small town of Crystal River. A friend informed me about the opportunity of swimming with manatees there. The first place we find is way too expensive so I decided not to give myself that birthday present. Funny how things work out. I turned onto a side street to get us traveling back in the right direction and in front of me is another dive shop. I think, what the hell, I’ll check their prices. Right off the bat they were much nicer than the first place and so eager to have us join in. Their price was extremely reasonable so I sign us both up. Needless to say Larry is up for it.

By this point I’m literally jumping for joy and can’t wait to get my wetsuit on. Neither of us have ever done anything like this before. Once out in the water we are told to spread out and simply float on the surface, letting them come to us. Manatees are amazingly big and graceful animals. They are friendly and curious about us. I have no photographs to share of this experience but the memories and images in my head will never fade. I can tell you they feel like an elephant, with rough skin and bristles. Our guide made sure I had some quality time with one of them for my birthday. He called me over and showed me if you rub their belly they will roll on their back for you. I believe I also got a kiss from one. What a wonderful and peaceful way to start my birthday day.

From there we drive and drive further south down the coast. My folks asked me to pick up some Danish schnapps for our Christmas dinner at one of the towns along the way. I was having trouble finding the store so we pulled over at a Krispy Kreme to grab a coffee and ask for directions. At the liquor store I go for my wallet and it’s not there. It’s at Krispy Kreme, seven miles back!! Needless to say I am not impressed with myself. I had just taken out a bunch of money and not only that, I have everything I need in my wallet. Speeding back, Larry is convinced my wallet will still be sitting in the bathroom. He says, “someone as nice as you ought to have racked up enough good karma. It will be there.” And it was. All the money still in it.

For my birthday I wanted to be at a place called Gibsonton, otherwise known as Showtown America. It has a long history of being the vacation spot of carnival workers. I loved the idea of being in a small town with an interesting history to celebrate getting one year older. Gibtown looks just like any other nondescript small town along the highway except for this bar. Even if I hadn’t read about this place years ago I would have stopped to take photos. I won’t go into a lot of detail here about the history of the place but you can follow the link above or watch this video made by Seth Gadsden.

Painted to look like a half-door.	Another fake door. It's hard to find the real entrance.

Gibsonton has been described as a rough place, and maybe it is, but I can say we were welcomed with open arms. Ok maybe not right away but as we struck up conversations with Kim the bartender and Mr. Ozark, third generation owner of Showtown Bar, they became curious about us. Why were we there? Where were we from? Did we know the history of the town? It was fun to see the look on their faces when I told them I’m from Nova Scotia and this guy to my left is a hitchhiker I picked up the day before. Four beer in I hear the DJ announce, “This one goes out to the birthday girl, Angela, who turns 21 today!” 50 Cent, In Da Club (it’s your birthday) comes blaring out of the speakers.

I couldn't have asked for a better birthday on the road. I had a fun and interesting person to celebrate with and I was where I wanted to be. Before the night was over the owner of the bar took this shot of Larry and I. It's the only one I have of the two of us.

Next, saying goodbye to my new nomadic friend.
To be continued……..

Part 1; picking up a hitchhiker

I arrived in Florida on Sunday and made my way to Panama City to visit my friend Peggy, whom I met in Tucamcari, NM back in October. I stayed with her and her partner for a couple of days in a lovely little bayou village, relaxing and drinking wine. I was welcome to stay as long as I liked but my goal was to be in a certain place for my birthday, but more on that in a bit.

Okie and I got back on the road on Wednesday, heading down the west coast of Florida to eventually work my way east to my folks place. We had a fairly uneventful day of driving and ended it with a stay at the Holiday Campground just outside of Panacea. In the morning we took our time getting back on the road. About ten minutes after starting out on a long stretch of pavement with nothing on it but trees, I passed a guy walking wearing a big straw hat and lugging a very full backpack. He didn't stick out his thumb as I passed but he turned his head around in enough time to meet my eyes. Something struck me at that moment but I kept driving. The feeling lingered so a mile down the road I made the decision to turn around and see if he needed a lift. I know everyone is cringing at this moment and trust me, I NEVER thought I would even consider picking up a hitchhiker as a solo female traveler. Peggy and I had talked before about picking up hitchhikers along our travels and she had only done it once. It's something she doesn't regret and I can see it in her eyes when she tells the story. Her experience isn't what made me turn around though. After all, he wasn't technically hitchhiking since he didn't stick out his thumb for me.

I pulled over and called to him, "Do you need a lift?" He accepted and threw his pack in the back. Not for a second did I think my life was in danger or threatened in any way. It goes back to what I said about trusting your instincts. Something just told me to go get him and see what adventures ensue. It was the best decision I could have made. Don't get me wrong, I don't have plans to keep picking up vagabonds but I'm sure glad I invited this one along.

Larry Gust, or Shaggy to his friends, would be with me for the next three days. We both had the same route south planned.  He had been walking from Kansas with a destination of the Everglades where he wants to work for alligator tours or with reptiles in some capacity. He had been alone for two and a half days so he had lots to talk about. His stories regarding the kindness of strangers almost brought me to tears. I mean, I thought I had some amazing stories, and I do, but I am floored by what he has received from people. One example; He was walking on a country road in Missouri and came upon a woman gardening. She was curious as to why he was there and where he was going. They began to talk and before he could blink she was making him food, doing his laundry and offering him a shower. He left there with food in his pack and $20 in his pocket and this is not an isolated incident for him. Another time a man stopped to see where he was walking to and just so happened to be taking a load of army gear to donate. Larry ended up with a new pair of boots and a meal. These are just two examples from the many stories he told me.

The whole day was spent driving down the coast, stopping to go for walks and getting snacks. We were immediately connected and traveled with ease together. His infectious laugh and gift of gab was a welcome addition to my little hobo family. We traveled until dark and I offered to let him set up his tent at my RV spot. We toasted to us meeting with vodka-spiked Gatorade and went to our beds for the night. The next day would be my birthday and he agreed to spend it with me in Gibsonton, but more on that in the next post when I'll write about us swimming with manatees and drinking with carnies.

to be continued......

Larry and Gorilla. End of day one.

Trusting my gut and staying safe.

I get asked a lot if there have been times I've felt unsafe or threatened and I can honestly say I can count the times on one hand. In three months of travel I have accepted help from a lot of people and only turned down a couple. I  may have missed out on great opportunities by declining an offer but as the saying goes, I would rather be safe than sorry.

Friends have told me they don't know if they could be as trusting as I am but when you are traveling and living from moment to moment I think you may surprise yourself. The kindness of strangers is always surprising and my first instinct is often to back away and say no thanks. I have learned if I take a moment to listen to what I am being offered and watch body language I can tell if it's a threatening situation or not. Sometimes it's just a small doubt in the back of my mind that doesn't dissipate during the conversation. Like I said, I may judge wrong but so far I have trusted my gut and have had no problems whatsoever.

I think the first time I declined an offer for a shower and place to stay was from a Norwegian man I came across in Texola, Texas. We were heading to the same place and he already had a room booked there. He offered for me to meet up with him, have dinner and a shower. I did take his phone number but didn't contact him. I wasn't comfortable meeting someone at a hotel to take a shower. This seems like a no-brainer but honestly if I had a better vibe I would have gone. Most of me thought it would be harmless but that small voice disagreed. So, I didn't accept.

In Indiana, I was offered a room in a motel-turned-apartments. I stopped to take photos of the motel's neon sign and the owner just happened to be there. He struck up a conversation with me and I learned all about his family and how he came to own the motel. When he learned what I am doing he offered me a vacant room for the night. My caution voice was there then too but it was different. I have learned over the last three months the different levels of gut instincts. It's natural to be guarded with strangers. We have been told our whole lives to be careful of strangers, don't talk to strangers etc. so I think we are always a bit guarded. I have found there is a difference between my natural, ingrained defensiveness with strangers and the serious warning voice. It takes time to recognize the difference but my general rule is if the voice is accompanied by a gut feeling I decline and move on, possibly missing out on something but possibly avoiding a dangerous situation.

In Louisiana, I made a goal of photographing the abandoned Six Flags park in New Orleans. I drove around the park and scouted out where I could park that would be far enough away not to draw attention to it. I ended up leaving my van a lot farther away than I thought. I began walking and right away a car turned around with a young guy and girl and their dog in the back.  They came to ask if I had broken down and needed a ride somewhere. I immediately sized them up, looking around the car and studying their faces. I told them where I was heading and they offered me a ride. I took it. There was nothing out of the ordinary there and I felt no threat at all. On the way back to my van a guy in a beat up truck offered to drive me and I declined. I still don't know why I did but 'no thanks' came out of my mouth before I even thought about it. Sometimes it just happens that way and I don't question it.

Yesterday I decided to take a walk through the French Quarter during the day to take some photographs. Just as I crossed the street I saw two porta potties, but they were both locked. From out of nowhere a guy approaches me and wants to lead me to a hotel where I can use their bathrooms. I feel like he might be a hustler but there are so many people around I follow him. He tells me where I can find a free Thanksgiving dinner, free showers and free places to stay. He has only been in Nola for a few months and has learned the ropes. For the 3 minutes I am walking with him I am studying his face, the road names and all the shops around me. I have my hand on my purse the entire time as well. When he points to the hotel I thank him for his help and walk in the direction of the door. As I approach I can see there are door men holding the door for people and the car pulling up, filled with people who are checking in, looks pretty normal. I was thinking he was leading me to something sketchy and it actually turned out to be a nice place and a much needed pee break. I'm not saying he's not a hustler though. I met him later in the streets and he said, 'Where are you going? I'm trying to hook up with you". I simply responded with a very stern NO and he politely left me alone.

I would never suggest there aren't bad people out there but I am saying that it would be a great thing if we all just let our guard down a little and trusted more. Learning to trust your voice of caution and studying your surroundings is the best defense you have. Not being afraid to be forceful with language is another thing I've learned. Who cares if I offend some person I will never see again if it keeps me safe. I love people and my trip would be nothing without the interactions with them. In the end, they need to trust me as well. The people who have taken me into their homes or made dinner for me don't know me from Adam either so they are also taking a risk.  Thank heavens they take a chance on me because they have helped shape this journey more than they know.

What the hell is hashing?

If you aren't familiar with couchsurfing, it's a website where people offer to host travelers. I decided to give it a try when I knew I was going to be in New Orleans. I thought it would be a great way to see the city from a locals perspective and it would be much safer than trying to find a place to park on the streets. I'm really glad I did.

Pat answered my request and I have been parked in his backyard since Friday. Having Okie made it a bit harder to find a host and even Pat can't have animals in his place but that's the advantage to having my bed on wheels. I don't need to sleep in the house but now I have access to power and showers again, as well as having someone who is really fun to show me around.

On Saturday he asked if I want to go hashing with him. I had no idea what that was but am almost always up for something new. It sounds really silly when it is described but I'll give it a go anyway. A group of people get together and race through a trail trying to catch the hare; a person designated to run from the pack. Beer is a big part of the whole event, with one stop in the middle of it to break and drink beer. People can drink anywhere in Louisiana, in fact if you have a beer in a bar and want to go somewhere else before it's finished there's a guy at the door to give you a "to-go cup" so you can take it with you. No glass is allowed on the streets.

This particular hash took place in a swamp. It was muddy, full of thorns and swampland and ridiculously fun. These people are absolutely nuts and incredibly nice. Once everyone is out of the trail a circle of individuals is formed where people are called into the middle for various 'offenses' and are ordered to do a 'down-down'. A cup of beer is filled and you have to drink the whole thing at once. Whatever you can't drink goes over your head. Being my first hash I was the virgin. I was nervous about what they might make me do but I think they took it easy on me. Then there's food and a bonfire. Not all of the hashes are like this. Some of them take place in the city and don't involve camping, fires or fireworks like this one did. I've been told they are usually much more tame than this one was so I'm awfully glad my first one was the craziest group.

I have met so many great people here in such a short time and can hardly keep up with any of them! I think I'll stay for a little while longer. There are many abandoned places for me to photograph and I'm in a safe and welcoming place so why wouldn't I take advantage of this time? My life is pretty great right now!

The more I see the more things look the same.

The more I drive the more each town looks alike. I don’t necessarily mean the old centers of town but the surrounding areas. Each town or city is surrounded by the same big box stores all over America. They are all familiar as I see them taking over the outskirts of my home town as well. Home Depot, Walmart and all the common fast food places like McDonald’s, Subway and Burger King are the familiar facades I see every day and they are always busy. The marked “Historic Downtowns” are often quiet with few shops open. In Truth or Consequences, NM, I walked the quiet streets looking at all the vacant storefronts and saw very few people. This is pretty common in my experience. Drive a bit outside of the downtown and there are all the people in their vehicles, loading up on what they “need” from the big department stores.

I don’t go into cities very often, preferring to stay in the countryside and in small towns where I hope to get a more ‘authentic’ feel for the place. It’s a struggle when I’m in a city like New Orleans, where I will be later today, to find the less touristy places. In an attempt to experience the real Nola (what locals call New Orleans) I have found a host through Couchsurfing. It’s my first time using this site but I have heard many good things about it. The guy who has agreed to let me park in his carport is a thrift store junkie like me and he has offered to take me yard-saling tomorrow. I’m not against doing the touristy things and will be sure to see the French Quarter and take in some of the common sights but I also want to get behind the scenes a little.

In the same vein I wanted very badly to go on a swamp tour, a very touristy thing indeed. I called ‘A Cajun Swamp Man’ whom I got a pamphlet for at the tourist bureau. He wasn’t going out that day and gave me the number for Jimmy. I just happened to pull into the restaurant he launches the tour from and was lucky to be about 20 minutes early. I’m really glad it turned out the way it did because he was not only cheaper but had a much smaller boat with only seven people going. Turns out the other tour holds up to 40 people! I, of course, was the only person there traveling alone. I encounter this all the time and have learned to accept people asking where the other part of my party is. In fact, when I called they booked me in for two people.

The tour lasted about 2.5 hours and was a mere $15. Jimmy was a great guide and told us stories of his parents hunting and trapping snakes and gators for a living in the 1950s. They used very simple tools. They would go out in a flat bottomed canoe and he used a long pole to find the gators on the bottom. When he found one he’d poke and prod at it until it was angry enough to come to the surface at which time she would kill it by a hatchet to the head. Back then they were only killed for their hides so if it was too big to put in the boat they’d skin it there and throw the rest back. And if that wasn’t dangerous enough she also hunted snakes with her bare hands!

Although it isn’t alligator season we did manage to witness two of them sunning themselves by the banks of the swamp. We also saw many turtle and an amazing array of birds. I didn't quite see what I imagined I would and am going to continue looking for other swamp tours. I was hoping to get deeper in and see the huge trees growing out of the water. Still, it was a great way to spend the afternoon.

 I ended the day with a big bowl of chicken and sausage gumbo at the Bayou Delight restaurant. I asked the waitress if she knew a place I could park for the night and she suggested a little spot down the road. I was worried I'd get asked to move but I didn't. I slept by a river under some hanging moss trees. It was a lovely spot.

Long highways make for deep thought

It's not always possible to avoid driving the interstates, unless you are driving something that can do back roads and dirt roads. If you've been following my trip you already know I can't go off-roading in my van or I have to dig myself out. Lately between destinations I have been driving long, straight highways that vanish far off on the horizon. Seventeen miles looks a lot further when you can actually see your destination on the flat landscape.

I love driving so I have that to my advantage, but even I get a little stir crazy when there's not much to see and the road goes on forever. One can only play drums on the steering wheel or have one-sided conversations with your dog for so many hours. So, I have a lot of time to think. Recently I have been contacted by a couple of magazines who want to do stories about my travels and the Barter Van. The questions they ask have given me lots to think about and reflect on. A common question is what has been my favorite experience so far. There's not one experience in particular that I like more than others. It comes down to the people I've met and how those interactions have helped shape my journey. I have always been a bit of a loner but without the social interaction and kindness of strangers it would be a completely different trip. I actually met someone once who told me they don't care about what other people do or think. I was kind of floored by that! I can't get enough of other peoples stories and have been accused of talking too much to cashiers and waitresses. I have been lucky to meet, and still be in touch with, so many wonderful individuals.

Time goes by so quickly. I can't believe I've been on the road for nine weeks already. It's a bit of a blur. In all my conversations everyone agrees that time goes by too quickly. When people ask why I finally made the decision I tell them it's about time. There's no telling I will make it to be elderly and there's no time like the present. I think I've always had this preoccupation with the passing of time and growing old. It's what propels me to do things now as opposed to waiting. I've had a number of emails and conversations with older people who commend me for doing what I'm doing and wishing they had. As much as I wish they had of too, selfishly it just reaffirms what I'm doing.

I've been spending a lot of time thinking about the bartering idea. The van starts conversations with people about bartering and it helps. I considered taking the magnets off until I've made some new pieces to trade and have a new way of approaching it but I like that it makes people ask questions. I still have a lot of questions myself about it but I haven't given up. As I watch my bank account dwindle I know I'm going to have to make it work. I'm just stubborn enough to make it happen.

So, I leave now to drive what's been described as one of the longest, straightest and most dull stretches of highway yet. I wish I could have an inner tape recorder to record my thoughts for further posts. I do my best thinking while staring at the lines on the road....

Phoenix, AZ to Roswell, NM

My time in Phoenix was both great and shitty. I was there for a total of nine days and in that time my bank card got shredded, I had to put my van in the shop, was painfully ill for 3 days and I caught a little boy throwing rocks at Okie. I also ate some delicious food, drank at an old tiki bar and dressed up for Halloween to watch a friends band play. I lived both in my van and in my friends house and was starting to get used to having power and hot water readily available.

I left Phoenix on Sunday and drove to Saguaro National Park where I hoped to camp for the night. I watched the sun set behind the very distant mountains surrounding the valley town. Okie and I went for a little dusk stroll along one of the park trails. I don’t know if it’s because of the Roadrunner and Coyote cartoons but I love the look of the big saguaro cacti, especially the silhouettes of them against the darkening sky. Upon our return to the van a policeman/ranger  greeted me with news of my needing to move on for the night. John was one of the nicest cops I’d encounteredt. We chatted for a while about my trip and his travels with his career and when we parted he told me he was impressed with my choice. Nice man. I ended up sleeping at a Travel Stop gas station off the I-10 in
Arizona.

I drove for most of the next day.  My goal was to make it to Elephant Butte Lake State Park. I chose to take the scenic route through the Gila National Forest. I love driving through National Forests because they seem to always contain tree covered mountains which gives me a break from seeing desert all the time. As a person from a coastal town I miss water when I’m not around it for a long time. Before I started driving around the desert I had romantic notions of the desert landscape. I still love it and all it’s variety but I also need to see water every once in a while and don’t think I could ever settle somewhere without it. This is why I wanted to camp at Elephant Butte Lake. That and  I’ve never seen a desert lake.

	"little bastards"

The one thing that annoys me to no end about going for walks, either on the beach, in the woods or on the side of the road, is what I refer to as “you little bastards”. Since Oklahoma I have been combating these devil plants, trying to keep them out of both mine and Okie’s feet. The route I chose to walk down to the water today was swarming with them and we both ended up with them stabbing at the bottoms of our feet. Once we got closer to the shore they disappeared but for a short distance I opted to carry Okie. One jabbed into her pad so deep it drew blood. When she steps on one she stops, raises her paw and looks at me. I go over and grab her paw to remove it and as I do she gently bites my thumb as if to say “Owe! But thanks!”. I can’t wait until I’m somewhere they cease to grow!

After our painful but beautiful walk we jumped in the van and got ready to head towards Roswell. I mean, who can be this close and not detour there? As I went to start the van I noticed a piece of paper on my windshield. Hmm, what could this be? A $3000 fine for being in a state park without paying?! I stupidly took my stub out of the window when I left the my campsite. I calmly explained the situation to the woman at the exit booth and she took it back saying she’ll fix it. Man! Can you imagine? It’s only a $300 fine if you get caught throwing litter out of your vehicle but $3000 if you visit a state park without paying. Wow.

Anyways, after driving through places like Truth or Consequences (named after a 1950s game show, formerly Hot Springs) and Lincoln (home of the last stand of Billy The Kid) I am now in Roswell. I’ve come into town just at dark so I plan to sleep in the Wal-Mart parking lot. It’s not my first choice but it’ll do every now and then. Tomorrow I'll explore Roswell and its kitschy alien gift shops. So far it looks like any other town with it’s Wal-Mart, Target, Starbucks, Burger King, Home Depot etc, except their McDonald’s is shaped like a UFO.

Grand Canyon and beyond

As my last post said, I ended up getting a little cabin to myself for a couple of days at the Grand Canyon. My plan to stay one night turned into four. I met another employee of the park just up the road. William was actually the man who I talked to at the Back Country office about what trail to hike etc. The first day there I was doing my laundry and he stopped to say hi on his bike. That night he made me supper and we talked and laughed into the evening. His little backyard was fenced in and gave Okie tons of space to run around in.

The next day, again I planned to leave. I walked up to give William a post card and say thanks for the hospitality and was invited to go into Flagstaff with him for the day. I accepted and we had a wonderful day doing errands and such. He suggested a great Mexican place for lunch and I had the best tamale I've had so far. The drive there and back with William was like having my own private tour guide. He has worked at the Canyon for 12 years and is a wealth of knowledge, answering every little question I could come up with. I thoroughly enjoyed his company and am grateful to have met him when I did.

I left the Canyon yesterday and drove north to Zion National Park, where I sit just outside the entrance of now. The drive took me through another part of the painted desert and past the vermillion mountains, both incredibly beautiful. The day was cloudless and couldn't have been more enjoyable. I'll leave you with some photographs of the landscape as I get ready now to see what Zion has to offer. Onwards and upwards!

Vermillion Cliffs

Pushing myself.

Let me share some personal info. It is a bit hard to put out there but I feel it's important to this story. For as long as I can remember I have dealt with blues, or 'low mood' as some call it. It is not something I am ashamed of admitting but I do think diagnosing people with clinical depression (which I have never been) and prescribing meds for it is WAY overdone. I have my own theories about why it seems to be such a wide-spread problem. My main hypothesis is that we, as individuals, have been sold the idea we can be or do whatever we want. So when we aren't fulfilling our dreams or making millions we feel like failures. I also think in our industrial, commercial age, we have far too much time on our hands to think about things and ponder our 'purpose' in life. The reason I am sharing this is because since leaving on my journey there had only been one day where I felt a bit lost and wondered what the hell I am doing....until this past Friday evening.

I arrived in Flagstaff on Friday and felt that lost feeling again. I wasn't sure which direction to head in. The nights are getting much colder so heading north to Utah, which is what I wanted, seemed like it may not be a good idea. I sat on the floor of the van for hours, drinking coffee and not doing much else but staring into space. I called a few people to get connected again with home. It was great to hear their voices but it made me feel more lonely in the end. Looking at the map I decided to stop being a wimp and head north to the Grand Canyon first. It was on my way and I wanted to see some places I missed when I was there last May. 

I made it to Sunset Crater but the sun had already set. I pulled over where another RV was parked and crawled into bed for the night. We were asleep early and therefor up at the crack of dawn. It's always great waking up and seeing the place I've parked in the daylight. I was surrounded my mountains and the air was crisp. Sunset Crater is a dormant volcano that erupted a long time ago leaving the landscape forever changed. Okie was not allowed on the trail over the lava flows so I walked it alone with coffee in hand. Half way through I stopped and sat in the silence for a while. It was a wonderful way to start my day and I thought I had beaten the blues.

We arrived at Grand Canyon around 3:30 so I paid for a campsite and made dinner in time to get to the canyon edge to watch the sunset. I don't know what came over me but as the sun went down I started to weep. It wasn't because it was the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen or other tears of joy. I felt an overwhelming sense, looking out over the vast, slowly darkening canyon, of how alone I actually am. How little and insignificant. How far away I am from everyone I love. I made a promise to myself to get up early and hike a ways down into the canyon.

I woke at the crack of dawn again. What should have happened next is I spring out of bed all rested and pumped to get out there but I couldn't make myself get up. This is one of the things about feeling blue is you have absolutely no energy to do anything. I laid there making all kinds of excuses about why I COULDN'T go hiking; I don't have the proper shoes, I don't have a back-pack to carry provisions, I have nowhere to put Okie for the day, and so on. I wasted a few hours lying there feeling shitty. Then I forced myself to get up into the cold air. I walked to the washrooms with my toothbrush in hand and in my path stood a herd of elk. They looked so majestic in the rising sunlight. We stood and looked at each other for a while then they moved on. It was a bit humbling.

I got us all packed up and headed over to the back country hiking info office to ask some questions about proper footwear and such. The man there told me my running sneakers were fine. What about Okie though? He advised against the kennel services offered in the park and suggested I do a shorter hike, leaving her in the van where she would be less terrified and constrained. What would I carry my water etc in? I remembered I was given a picnic backpack before I left and if I took all the dishes out it would work just fine. So, I had no more excuses. I took Okie for a walk, grabbed a coffee and hopped the bus to the trail head, arriving at 10:30.

Upon descending, the first woman I passed asked how I was doing. I said I was good but wished I had started earlier. Her response was. “well, at least you started”. She had no idea how true her words were and how much I needed to hear that. The hike down was amazing and fairly easy but each step I took downwards would inevitably be a step back up and I knew it would be an arduous climb. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the further down I got the warmer it was. I made it to the first rest area where I planned to turn around and go back up but I could see the next point and I wanted to go. I would make a decision to turn around there but when I arrived I wanted to see what was around the next bend. If it wasn't for Okie being in the van I would have been gone for a long, long time. 

half way to turning point

view at lunch break

On my agonizing climb back up I met Joe. He's a 23 year old who works in the canyon, hiking the trails to manage the compost toilets placed in the canyon. We hiked up to the first landing together and chatted about the usual things; where are you from? Where are you going? Etc. He then extended an invitation to stay in one of the cabins back at his living quarters. The rest of his crew were laid off for the season and he was the only one left. I had planned on leaving the canyon that evening but the best thing about traveling the way I do is I can always change my mind. I accepted. I made us some supper and we drank beer and shared travel stories. He has now gone off on a two day hike into the canyon for work and left me here to do laundry, wash my dishes, cook, take a shower and basically help myself to whatever I want. It doesn't escape me the way things turned out. Because I pushed myself to go, because the man suggested a different trail, because I left so late I met Joe and ended up having a great night and now have a little cabin, with heat no less, to hang out in all by myself. It amazes me that I eventually seem to get what I need with a little bit of pushing on my part.

my own cabin

It's common knowledge that exercise is one of the best things for getting your serotonin pumping and I can tell you it's true. I am feeling like myself again and am so proud of myself for pushing through the feelings I would have let overcome me in the past. People who don't have problems with the blues don't really get it and I'm happy they don't. I am lucky that mine is manageable but it takes work on my part to keep it under control. There are so many amazing things in my life I have no reason to spend time wallowing in any kind of self-pity. So, if you ever find yourself feeling lazy and unable to push yourself, do it! You'll feel so much better in the end. I know I do.

Sante Fe and beyond

The last couple of days have been a bit of a blur. We spent two days in Sante Fe walking around, in and out of shops. I was tempted to buy so many things but the only money I spent was on the admission to the Contemporary Indian Art Museum and lunch from a street cart. I can't remember exactly what it was but it was meat perfection wrapped in a tortilla and smothered in hot salsa. I could eat like this forever.

Contemporary Indian Art Museum

Sante Fe Market



Skulls at the Sante Fe market

 Until I started traveling in the Midwest, I had no idea I wanted cowboy boots or skulls (ok maybe the skulls). Okie and I drove to the top of the mountains above Sante Fe and watched the sunset. I took this shot of a truck going up the hill just as the sun disappeared.

Back down the mountain we were given a spot to park by a friend of a friend and I had the luxury of having wi-fi access from my van. In the morning we had to get new tires which took a good chunk of money but these things happen. I had already driven about 5000 KM on tires which were questionable to start with and the van was shaking quite a bit. Back on the road, we drove the Turquoise Trail from Sante Fe to Albequerque. If you ever get the chance to do it I would highly recommend it. The landscape is amazing and it takes you through small towns which give you more of an authentic experience than Sante Fe itself will. Don't get me wrong, it's a great place but it's VERY touristy. Madrid, pronounced MA-drid, not like the one in Spain, was a lovely little stop along the way. It's an old mining town turned into an unincorporated town so they have their own shops and rules. Unfortunately my computer is refusing to read my card from yesterday so I have no photos to show right now of this portion but hopefully they aren't lost forever.

We reconnected with Route 66 through Albequerque but I didn't give the city as much attention as maybe I should have. After window shopping around Sante Fe and Madrid I didn't have any desire to look at any more stores so we drove through, stopping to take photos of the neon signs of course. Last night we stayed in an RV park which is connected to a Route 66 Casino. It was only $10/night if you get a players card. So, for that price, which included power hook-up, dump station and shower I thought I would park and go to the casino to get the card. It was free and I figured maybe I'd play a machine for something different to do. After getting my card I walked the floor, found it a bit depressing, and left. I'm not a gambler.

Today we are off to Sky City, which is an ancient pueblo village atop a 367-foot sandstone bluff. I am sure to have photos of this up in the next couple of days....