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Travel Log - Hunting, Hitchhiking, Painting & Getting Dirty: Traveling Across America


Keepitrail

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  • 2 weeks later...
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Just spent two days reading through this entire thread every second of free time I got. This is fucking sweet. And all the Washington flicks made me horribly homesick. Looks like you were out on Second Beach, by Forks. Beautiful shit. Whenever you get to SF hit me up, I'd love to burn you one and chop it up. Please keep updating, this whole thread was nothing short of mindblowing to me.

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Updates tomorrow! For now a couple of flicks of what I did in Jackson to make the dough to come out to SF

 

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The outside sign - boring but it's fun to do real precise lettering sometimes...

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If you ever go to Jackson, go to the Brewpub and ask to see the mural inside the canning room!!

 

 

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Painted a skull for the people I was staying with

 

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1/5 little murals in a gym I lucked out on

 

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Dude I was staying with in Jackson "hey man you uh thank yew c'n paint badayuss fiarbird on my brat? Buy ya berr"

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I owe a lot of my inspiration and travel medicine to 12oz, and I thank you all for that sincerely. I really mean it. I am in SF now and looking to buy a sailboat to live on for a couple few months. I just got snaked on a 28' by someone but my eyes out.

 

After Las Vegas I discovered Death Valley and found it quite appropriately named. I came in from las Vegas - where I spent a decadent night by myself, full of free drinks and free passes to boobie bars. I felt strangely out of place there, or rather normally out of place as it seems of late. Girls rubbing your nipples as a greeting is something unknown to me and I cannot say that I enjoyed it. I saw old men, impotent in relative romance, caressing young pantless women, grasping at something they wanted desperately but could never have in its own right, submitting themselves to a woman paid for, rather than one earned... It was disgusting but intriguing. Topless women my age and older engaged me in a grip and then relented, but why? I did not respond as they expected. They told me their real names, their aspirations, why they did what they did, why they talked to me, No, they did not care that I was not giving them money, nor desired intimacy...

 

The idea that I was not there to be treated like a king or master or pimp seemed to instill some random honesty, some priestly confessional in them and I spent an hour with a girl discussing the various aspects of nursing degrees, whilst on the clock, without care. She seemed much more happy to talk to someone who reached at first for her mind, than her ass.

 

then leaving relatively sober at 2 to drive northwest into a state park to sleep in my car on a mountain ridge. Moonlight vigils in solace do much to the mind of a man who was hours before knee deep in titties.

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Well anyway, more pictures when I get my camera back from my lady. Seems to have gotten some sand in it when I was cleaning out the antelope skull. Hopefully it will be in working order soon. In the mean time I can still use the pics on it, but cannot take more.

 

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8d85046d.jpgShits creek in Yosemite Nat'l Park, cleaning the skull and looking out for bears. El Capitan looking down on me skinning his four legged brethren and drinking dumpstered beers, I was awash in pleasantries. Giant swarming Flies attached themselves to every available morsel of skin and I was forced to dunk the entire package in the creek at every available moment, to drown those within the skull and repel those without. I found it most difficult to separate the skin and muscle from the bone without boiling first, as I have previously done. Everything was very tight, very secure, and the skull seemed reluctant to shed its lining without putting up a fight. At some point, half an hour in, the flies became too much and began attacking me instead of their inanimate friend, and I relented. I could do little now that my knife was dulled on its skin anyway, so I dislocated the jaw, left in sinking into maggot water, and lept off with the skull and horns in my hand... the horns, as I found with the goat skull, separated from the bone like a sheath for a sword. I had found this after skinning the skull, as the black horny protrusions slid from their dicks like so many condoms. So I grasped at the thing, trying to hold on to it without retching back to my car and tied him on, wrapped in black plastic garbage back to stave off questioning from the many inquirers I'd encountered so far and thus grown tired of.

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KIR!!!

 

Yo buddy, i couldnt log in, tried for hours and JUST got in/nh.

 

I sent you a text and i'm back. I'm hella busy tmrw but lets get hyphy later this week. There's a few good shows coming up and we're going in style if you're down. Bring the lady but be forewarned, i will most likely still try to get you to cheat.

 

I am 99% sure you got this month's phone number so hit that, or try to PM me.

 

Hijinks were had last time and I need a partner to light these motherfuckers off my roof at the pimps toys and trannies:

 

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And of course, just pulled this down so you're "travel meds" can get restocked:

 

Cherry Pie:

 

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Girl Scout Cookie:

 

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BTW, how'd the Cheeba Chew do ya?

 

Also, you still looking for work? I might be able to help but state ID might throw a wrench in my plan...we'll see.

 

We'll do it big and i'll make sure to show you that ORFN US spot i was telling you about.

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  • 5 weeks later...

Well, I'm not sure where to begin since our last event....

 

A lot has gone on and lots more to come.

 

I am still on the West Coast, still in America, for how long I don't know.

 

I stayed on Lake Powell in Southern Utah in a park next to some RV's.

I noticed some pretty ladies and inquired if they would like to have a beer - I was still quite

well stocked on the dumpstered brews, but alas, it turned out in better light they were

about fourteen years old, and their father was not happy to hear about my advances.

It was late, and christ how the age of acceptable provocative dress has shrunken. As did my

peepee when I got a better look at them. Yeesh.

 

Beaches in the morning...such a wonderous place

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Carloads of Japanese tourists sticking their cameras in every which way 4e392c1e.jpg

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Yeesh! Butterface..

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Along to somewhere in New Mexico or Nevada, I don't know anymore. But I did stop to sample

my competition. Had it not been abandoned in the middle of the desert I'd rather have gone

into business with the fella.

 

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Death Valley - fields of salt and desperate little colonies hanging on to some weird dream..

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Sorry some of these are out of order, it's been a long trip. It is being a long trip. It will have been a long trip.

 

I pulled over in, where was it? I had just been warned for the head so it must have been Colorado. Yes well, somewhere in the Midwest lies a cute little llama alpaca farm in the middle of high desert, with hundreds of fuzzy beasts in perfectly shorn haircuts.

 

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And if you get close enough, they have a tendency to hurl projectile snot into the space between your eyelids.

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As of now, for those who haven't read as much, here is a short itinerary/summary list of the adventure.

 

Reason for leaving is an excitement of spirit that was dying rapidly due to lack of major changes in life.I have spend roughly 3/4 of the trip sleeping in my car or camping in a tent. Both of which I tend to prefer over staying at people's houses. Money has been strictly rationed to Gasoline, Cigarettes, and Alcohol. Occasionally museums, pool halls, and car repairs. Food is racked, dumpstered, or given to me. Never begged for anything (unless you count food stamps). Money has been earned through commissioned murals, random art jobs, a few gigs, and a couple members of 12oz buying paintings (thank you!). Women were Few & Far between (heh). Talk has been of sailing to Cuba and it is in the works. A few brushes with the law, but nothing too harsh. No charges yet. A few drugs, nothing too hard. Future plans include leaving the USA for an extended amount of time & writing a book about said journey (still in the works).

 

 

Quit job in late June 2011

Sell belongings, pack car up, leave Nashville, about 1k in cash

Paint in Memphis, get antsy, leave.

Volunteer in Joplin after tornado, stay with nice people and in my car. Leave after 3 weeks.

Picher, AK. abandoned city spend the night in a fort

Windmills and cow fields

4th of July in Kansas corn field

Visit ex girl in Wyoming

September: Montana to see Baptist Preacher Great Uncle, worked in wheat fields on a giant tractor, fly fished

Maintenance man at fly fishing outfit in Ft. Smith, MT

Whitefish, MT to help a dude out with his house. Antsy. Leave.

Seattle, WA to paint with Foes, Ksera of my crew UnHoly's.

October-Nov: Rent cabin in Morton, WA for two months in winter, date wonderful girl in Seattle

December: Fly back to TN with money from working in MT to visit family

February: Return to WA & continue down West Coast

March: Paint in SF, Meet Karl Hungus (nice guy), then Santa Barbara, Oceanside, San Diego, head to NM to visit old friend

June: Return to Wyoming to see ex girl, snowboard, make some dough doing murals

July: Smash out to SF to visit a random girl I met in WY and really dug

 

Which brings us to relative present. Staying at my uncle's house in SF. Just spent the rest of my cash on something which I will go into more detail later. HOLLAAAA!!!

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  • 4 weeks later...

Alright you motherfuckers, Get ready for the dump. Where'd we leave off? Who gives a fuck.

 

I made it through Death Valley and Yosemite, stopping briefly to deskin the skull and climb on boulders. Then to SF to meet up with girl and commence being a bum to my great uncle, who provided lodging in Fremont. Typing this from there. Through much shenanigans it was discovered that in the Bay, there are "Federal Anchorages". In such areas, which are about a quarter mile offshore, boats reside, anchored. There is no fee to do such, and you can do so indefinitely.

 

As I am indefinitely on the hunt for indefinitely free lodging, I endeavored myself to buy a boat and live on it. A boat can be bought for a (relatively) small fee. In my case, I found one for $3000. Considering the cheapest rent + utilities is 600+ a month, I viewed it as an investment. I called a craigslist ad and set up a meeting.

 

The boat was already anchored out. 27' Convertible Sailboat, with 10' dingy and outboard motor for 3k. The meeting was arranged and I was scheduled to meet "Jamie", a hoarse voiced gruff gentleman who said to meet me at a taco shop in Sausalito.

 

I arrived early and received a call from Jamie. The transcript is as follows.

 

"Hey, I'm here, are you around?"

"Yeah! I'm looking for the shop. Oh, I see it! Do you see me?"

"..I just see a largish woman waving her arms across the street, haha."

"Oh good!"

"What? You see her too?"

A 250lb+ woman is waving her arm maniacally at me crossing the street.

"Are you coming toward the taco shop?"

"Yeah, I'm waving my arm, do you see me?"

"Uhhhhhhhh...."

 

Jamie is not a man or a woman. Apparently Jamie used to be Troy. And Troy was unhappy for 30 years as a man. So recently, Jamie Troy was living on this boat and hiser father died, leaving Jamietroy a considerable amount of dough. Jamtroy used it to cut off hiser penis and put jelly in hirs manboobs. Then Jamtoy sold me the boat for $2200.

 

Henceforth, I am here. Living half on a boat, half at my girl's house, and half at my Uncle's house. Considering sailing to Costa Rica, or through the Panama Canal, etc. On to Cuba.

 

 

 

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gig

 

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Conical Saviour (working title - suggestions?)

 

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Aww yeahhh (The benefits of being a gentleman)

 

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Half Progress shot of a gig - ahhh money is nice occasionally

 

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Friends & Fam - Crew Reunion

 

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Come visit me in SF. I'll take you sailing and hiking up mountains

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Many, many stories and experiences in between. Hiking Big Sur again with girl and getting poison ivy of the eye - which a wonderful cure is to be found in eating acid and hiking for 10+ miles, Long and intricate talks with my uncle, a history teacher of forty years, painting - lots of painting, teaching myself to sail solo - not an easy task!, meeting Jurne, Remio, almost pulling gun on crackhead to find he's not a crackhead just special, several cart pushes at Michaels & grocery stores, a bout of indifference & depression, writing less than I should, and drinking more, a crew reunion with 4 states represented, painting on the beaches of Southern California (dreamlike)... And ultimately finding that my comfort is discomfort. The perpetual changing vocabulary of landscapes and relations is what makes me feel most true.

 

I have found that I grow increasingly despondent if significant changes are not made on a 2-3 month basis. To think, in the past six months - have I had life changes experiences? To honestly look at your life and consider whether or not you have made progress is a daunting and uncomfortable task, but being done, it will produce more fulfillment and knowledge of yourself than any other activity in life.

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