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


Keepitrail

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The (mostly) finished product. We cut off the legs and my girl made a ridiculous gravy with sweet potatoes and onions and roasted it all in the oven. The breast we'll save for the holidays.

 

 

Tiny little paintbrushes and dust muffins

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AND I totally missed this giant ass sack of undigested food in his neck. So, don't forget to find that thing and cut it out!

 

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A little bit more tough than any other turkey I've had, but good lord jesus the freshness and satisfaction of a meal that was on that same day waltzing around the fields of California... just can't beat it.

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Very touching story!

 

Anyways.. Stay safe on the tracks, KIR.

Thank you sir. I will!

 

KiR- that short reminded me a lot of "the fall" from Camus. The one sided nature of the conversation, interacting with intention, existential angst and social want all smacking of the sole speaker in the novel.

 

Good words.

 

 

Mad respect all over.

 

Nice... Do you think they'll have that at the Library? I'll go check it out tomorrow. I need some good reading for the next month. I've got Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance right now, but I'm closing in on the ending. That & Roughing It by Mark Twain.

 

Every post you make I read in my head like Arlo Guthrie singing Alice's Restaurant.

 

Enjoy!

 

Also, I missed when you upgraded to a Foz? What model is it?

 

Ahhhh it's about that time of the year isn't it?

 

It's my girl's car. She cool like that.

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  • 2 weeks later...
  • 1 month later...

HOLA AMIGOS

 

After a few months of travel I am back in action. Thanks for all the support along the way. As some may know, I was apprehended in Chamois, MO on the fifth day of a cross country freight train ride from Oakland to Memphis. My amigo had luckily gotten off the stop before in Kansas City, who was delivering "things" from the West Coast. I was able to record the conversation in the car with the Sheriff. Once I get stable I'll pare it down and put it on whatever it goes on so yall can listen in.

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Once out of jail in Linn, MO (courthouse town), I gathered my belongings and typed up the last entry I've put on here since then (Early December). After which, the library closed and I went outside to find my jacket stolen. The backpack was still there, however, so I hoisted it upon my shoulders and set off towards St. Louis, about 110 miles away. It was about noon and around 30-40 degrees with a decent wind. The roads were quite snakey and the small-town nature of the area led to what I believe is a rather unpleasant idea of a hitch-hiker. After about 4 hours of walking I was beginning to get a little uncomfortable. Jail had restored my spirit, but my body was still a little creaky. It was getting dark and I knew I'd have to camp out for the night if I didn't catch a ride soon.

At six oclock I gave up and began looking for a side road to set up my tent on. I found a decent little dirt road and set my bag down to get my shit together. Just as I had, a minivan passed, I thumbed, he continued, then hesitated, brake lights on, now reverse lights, now stopped in front of me. "Charley's the name! Cmon' in. You can't be out here in the cold, look at you, you're going to die out here!" Charley was a Navy SEAL back in the 60's and talked incessantly about poontang. His wife had died about five years ago and he was desperately lonely. So he went on Skype with foreign broads who tried to steal his money. He knew what they were doing, but he said they got him "harder'n ironwood in a vice". He invited me to stay at his house, which I accepted, though he initially offered his bed, at which I declined, he switched quickly to say, "Oh yeah, well, I forgot - I've got a couch too." to which I accepted. (Fuck you, it was like 20 degrees out)

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(Currently working with a lady in SF who was one of the assistants on this job)

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His house was entirely covered with American Eagles. He watched television while I read "Hondo" by Louis L'amour. Even his toilet paper dispenser had an american flag on it. I took a shower and found some expired Vicodin sitting on the counter among a thousand other medications. Hallelujah! The rest of the night went pleasantly, and he sent me off in the morning, saying "take this and ride a damn greyhound home, kid. you need to see your family." He gave me fifty bucks and dropped me off at the bus station. Well, OK then! Off I went back to Nashville for about a month.

 

 

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(Up to no good in the trainyard with the boys)

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($$$)

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(Writing...)

 

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(Work by Archie, an insane man who lives down the street and puts these signs everywhere in Memphis)

 

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(Abandoned hotel in Memphis, 10 stories of mischief and mayhem)

I made some money there and saw old friends. Now I'm back on the road West - I'm in Memphis with my good friend Nosey 42 this fine January morning, and I've skipped my court date, which was today. Whoopsie! Guess I won't be going back to Missouri any time soon. Now I'm off to Jackson again, to meet my girlfriend and drive back to San Francisco to do some things to make money and get down to Central America for a spell.

 

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Fuck yes. You had us all collectively worried, glad to see you're still at it.

 

If you come through CO the offer stands to pick you up/drive you places/hang out whatever. Safe travels man.

 

 

Stand up man. This will happen! I will PM you my infographics later... we shall do things...

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