North Carolina and More

So far I'm digging North Carolina. Durham seems like a pretty cool city, but I'm spending some time in Carrboro, a small town south of Chapel Hill. It has a real community feel to it. People hang out near a grocery co-op and do their work on laptops while others walk their dogs, play with kids and do yoga. I took a nap on a bench there for an hour and no one bothered me. Actually, the people in general were quite friendly.

I intend to spend some time in this state, exploring Durham, Greensboro, Hickory, Boone and Ashville. I'm not just searching for a way to truly experience the area, but also searching for a place that I might like to move to. I need a change of scenery and with the constant Louisiana summer I can only go camping about two months out of the year. I want a state that actually has different seasons, instead of 9 months of summer and then a few cold fronts in January.

I'll probably be around the Durham area for about a week before hitching over to another spot. Once in Greensboro, I'll spend a few days checking out the small towns that surround it and looking at some of the hiking trails. Then it's on to Hickory and then Boone.

After I've checked out some different areas and experienced a decent portion of the state from the perspective of the locals, I'm going to turn my travels in a different direction. I've scoured maps of the state and found a place I want to go, an experience I want for myself. It's going to be tough, but I think what I plan to do around the end of the month or early November will help me grow as a person and an adventurer.

I'll keep you guys posted as I prepare for the next part of my journey, my next test.

Providence to...

After attending the Water Fire festival in Providence, Rhode Island where several boats ceremoniously lit baskets of oak floating in the Providence River and thousands of onlookers gathered to watch the spectacle, listen to the live music, eat various foods and just hang out, I gathered my things and prepared to depart. The following morning, I bid farewell to my hosts, Derek and Nathan, and set off to catch a bus. Hitching is so difficul in the northeast, so I was doomed to once again take a bus.

I was pleasantly surprised to find that two other couchsurfers, Chris and Brian, were also taking the same bus from Providence to North Carolina. A bus that decided not to work and Brian had to play mechanic and help get the bus rolling. After a half hour dealy at the terminal, we were finally on the road.

In New York, Chris spotted a pizza joint that had jumbo slices for dirt cheap. I ate two slices and had a Dr. Pepper for $2.75. Unfortunately I didn't have cash and Brian was kind enough to spring for it. Thanks dude. I owe you one. The pizza was freaking awesome and it illustrates that sometimes you really can buy happiness.

I managed to make it through the bus terminal in New York without getting robbed, but then again I literally held onto my carry on bag the whole time. Our new bus driver was a complete and total asshole. He was a rude prick and most likely mentally unstable. Go Greyhound!

After an eternity on the bus, which broke down in the Lincoln Tunnel for no apparent reason, I was dropped off at my destination. I said my goodbye's to Chris and Brian and left the bus to be greeted by the cool morning air, a fresh breeze, and the sunrise over downtown Durham, North Carolina.

Now that I've returned to the southern states, I can once again travel the way that God intended. I can stick my thumb in the wind and walk until my feet are sore, hoping for a kind soul with some extra room in his truck. With the sour luck I've had with busses, I'm sure that I was meant for hitching. Besides, it costs $108 to get from Providence to Durham by bus, but it was free to get from Montgomery to Scranton, and it actually took less time.

Not sure when I'll get a chance to be online again. Haven't had any responses from couchsurfers, so I'll most likely go looking for a spot to camp.

It's beautiful here in Durham, and I think I might linger for several days to check the place out. Since I plan on moving to this state, I'll probably be here for a while, checking out towns and cities and forests and trails.

Stay safe everyone. I'll update when I can.

How Far I've Come

It's day 25 of my Walkabout Adventure and I've spent much of the day reflecting on my travels. I read through my journal and added some more entries. It was a good day for reflection and after looking everything over, I can see how far I've come and I'm amazed at it all.

In just this short amount of time, three and a half weeks, I've visited 24 towns and cities in 6 different states. In Louisiana I've been in Sulphur, Westlake, Lake Charles, Welsh, Jennings, Grosse Tete, Chalmette and Slidell. In Alabama I've seen Mobile, Saraland, Montgomery, Alabaster and Birmingham. In Pennsylvania I've visited Scranton, Carlile and Hazelton. I've seen New York City (just long enough to get robbed). I've hung out in Providence, Cranston, Warwick and Newport, Rhode Island. And finally I've seen Boston, Wellesley and Cambridge, Massachusetts.

So far my transportation has cost me a grand total of $104, which I could have saved had the cops not been so anal about hitchhikers. But it's not bad. It's a minor setback and one I can afford. I look at the list of places and I wonder how many more stops I have to make. I wonder where I will be next. I still have so much to do and see and experience and learn. Sometimes I think it'll take a lifetime... or a month. I don't know. I never imagined I'd get this far, but I'd always hoped.

The trip as a whole confuses me, as I don't know what to expect or where I will be next. But right now I'll focus on where I've been and what I've done, seen, learned and experienced. I'll worry about the future when it arrives.

What's my biggest accomplishment thus far?
I'd say it's making it from Birmingham to Pennsylvania in a day, which I owe entirely to a truck driver named Stan whom I saw parked on the shoulder of the interstate outside Birmingham. He was updating his trucker's log when I walked by and he asked where I was going. I told him that I had just decided to go to Rhode Island to watch the leaves change and he said he could get me to Pennsylvania. Thanks Stan. I guess that was really his accomplishment, not mine.

What's my fondest memory?
That's a tough one, but after a little debate I'd have to go with the one that keeps popping up and giving me a warm feeling. A guy named Alex who let me crash at his place when I got into Providence has a beautiful daughter named Allie. I think she's three. I walked into the house one day and she ran across the room and hugged my leg. There's nothing quite like being greeted by a child to brighten a day. Thanks Allie and Alex.

Best time?
Another tough one. It's either the intellectual conversations with Rex in Montgomery, Alabama or riding across Louisiana with Steve and Josh, listening to Ryan Bingham and feeling the wind whip through the open window. Both experiences were cool in completely different ways. Hanging with a couple of good old boys and discovering a new musician that fills you with so much energy is awesome, but so is meeting a kindred spirit who shares so many of the same passions as you. Thanks Rex, Steve and Josh.

Best meal?
That one is easy. I've had some nice feasts, but the best was cooked by Henry in Boston. His steak rocks. It was so juicy, tender and tasty. Henry, keep on rocking. And the meal had great company too.

Hardest time?
That's another easy one. The most difficult part of my trip, in retrospect, was my time in Mobile, Alabama. So many of the people there were so cruel. Even losing my journal couldn't compare to how I felt coming out of Mobile. I didn't even feel like a human being.

Scariest moment?
That's a tough one. I got picked up by a guy named Jerry who was a pinhead who listened only to teenage girl pop music which only served to stir up his numerous emotional problems causing him to punch the dashboard of the truck. I was fine with that, but he also couldn't drive for shit. It was a white-knuckle ride from Saraland to Montgomery. It was a very intense hour. The other scary moment was when the crackhead couple under the overpass north of Mobile decided they wanted to attack me after doing a few lines of coke. The guy was shouting something unintelligible and threatening and marching forward. His woman was doing the same. I think they wanted to rob me but he had a difficult time annunciating. That confrontation lasted only about a minute, but it was pretty scary.

Worst pain?
That would be a phone call I made on the morning of September 17th. I had wanted to make that call on the 16th, but couldn't make it to a payphone in time and slept in a field. I didn't know that hearing a person's voice could cause physical pain, but it can if you miss that person enough. Hearing a person's voice but not being able to touch them can tear a hole right through your heart. I don't think I've ever felt a pain like that before.

Coolest place?
Providence, Rhode Island. Hands down. I went there on a whim, or what I call "Ooh! Moments" and decided to spend 10 days there. The whole area rocks and it's so beautiful. On top of that, the people are so friendly. If you've never been, plan a trip for mid October so you can see the changing leaves. If you have been, you know exactly what I'm talking about.


This trip has been magic thus far. The ups have been great and the downs have been a learning experience. I've seen so much and traveled so far (emotionally and geographically) and I still have lots to do. I have activities to do, things to write, pictures to take and a boss-wicked festival to scope out... and that's just in the next 24 hours. Then I'm migrating south (I think) to check out another part of the country that I've always been interested in and to take my trip to a new level by living in a whole new manner.

I want to thank everyone who encouraged me and believed in me while I was gearing up for this trip. Your words are kept close to my heart and help me when the road gets tough and my feet grow tired. Thanks. And to all those people who have started following since my trip began, thank you. Most of you are people who helped me in some way, large or small. I see people listed as followers who picked me up off the side of the road. I see people who just offered friendly conversation when I was at my lowest. And I see people whose names I do not recognize at all. Your fascination with my blog fills me with inspiration and prompts me to continue writing and giving updates.

Thank you all for everything you've done. Great or small, you are helping me through a difficult but wonderful trip.

Reasons and Explanations

So I read a post on my Brother's Blog and I realize that many people still have questions about me, my trip and my reasons. People have questions and though I don't feel obligated to answer them, I'll do it anyway. I'll explain what it is I'm doing as clearly as I can and I'll explain how I'm doing it. Hopefully this will clear the air and set people's minds at ease. Hopefully this will clarify everything and lend some understanding.

If not, oh well.

"Where is he sleeping?"
Wherever I can. Sometimes it's an overpass beneath a random interstate where the hum of passing trucks lulls me to sleep. Sometimes it's the house of a kind stranger who opens his doors to me for whatever reason. Sometimes it's in the home of a person I met online. Other times it's in the dirt under trees.

"How is he getting around? Is he hitchhiking? Is he walking?"
Yes. I'm hitching. I'm walking. In states where the cops are cracking down on hitching, I try to find alternate modes of transportation, like taking public busses, which I hate. Taking public transportation makes my trip seem fake and as soon as it's no longer necessary, I'll leave the busses behind and get back to stomping the pavement and holding my thumb in the wind. I'm also walking quite a bit. I've had a blister on top of a blister, which I didn't know was possible and I've blown out my right ankle, twice. But I'm walking and I'm loving it.

"What if he gets mugged?"
Then I get mugged. I'll lose some cash, probably about $8 which is about the most I carry on me. If the guy has a gun, I'll give him what he wants. If he has a knife or comes at me with his fists, I'll almost feel sorry for him. The cash I have won't pay for his medical bills and my kukri will dispense more damage than I can pay for.

"He's crazy. Why would anyone want to do that?"
Because I can, damn it. Because there's a hole inside me that must be filled and this is the only way to fill it. I'm missing something and out here I can find it. It's so close I can feel it. Besides, who wouldn't want to see south Louisiana, Montgomery and Birmingham, Scranton, Boston and Providence for less than $300? Who wouldn't want to see Narragansett Bay or the place where Rosa Parks was taken off the bus? Who wouldn't want to eat in the oldest tavern in the country? Who wouldn't want to make a dozen new friends in three weeks? Who wouldn't want to fulfill their dreams? I'm doing it because I want to and I don't want to be that person who sits around at the age of 80 and says "I wish I had done this or that when I was younger." In short, I don't want to be the kind of person who says "He's crazy. Why would anyone want to do that?" Because that's the kind of person I pity.

"What's he doing about... food, water, shelter?"
So far I've never been more than a day's walk away from an establishment where I can purchase some kind of food. Hell, I'm not sure if it's possible in the eastern half of the country to be more than a day's walk away. I can carry enough food in my pack to last two weeks, if not more.
Water is easy. Every building in the country has running water and most have a faucet outside. Even if they remove the knob, I can still open the valve with my multi-tool. Go ahead, ask me how I know this.
I have a small emergency shelter that has kept me dry when it rains, and for the first two weeks, it rained almost every day.

"What if something happens to him?"
Then it happens. Lots of things have happened to me. I had my travel journal, my most precious possession, stolen from me. I'm still alive, though, so I moved on. I pushed forward and bought a new journal and wrote down everything I could recall. If something else happens, I'll continue moving forward until my trip is done. If I die, I'll be dead. The cops will look at my ID and call my family. If my ID is gone, I have a tattoo of my social security number on my hip. They'll see that and call my family.

More on the Walkabout.
I discovered something about my trip and myself while walking. This happened early on and it's still happening. Going walkabout has certain mental health benefits. Walking all these miles, living simply, going by a natural schedule of eating when hungry and sleeping when tired, leaving everything behind, it strips away layers and layers of crap that we call "life". It breaks you down and grinds you to a pulp. It's difficult and it hurts. You can feel yourself breaking, little by little, until you look inward and realize that there's nothing left. Everything has been stripped away. All the details that once made up your life have fallen away. Your habits, your desires, your ambitions, your pet peeves, your friends, your debts, your love, your hate, your routine, it's all gone. All that's left is you. Raw, clean, fresh, whole, you see the foundation of yourself. You see who you really are, what you're made of. You see your strengths and weaknesses. You see the things you should be ashamed of and the things you should take pride in. You see what's important and what's trivial. You see yourself as you really are and you see what's missing.

Then, with all those extra pieces set aside, you can take inventory of your life and decide what you will keep and what you will discard. You can see where you need to grow. You can see what things in life were holding you back. You can move forward with life on your own path without outside influences. You can begin to reconstruct yourself how you see fit, not how society would have you become. You can purge that which is not important.

The whole process is painful, but wonderful. I'm more healthy, physically and mentally, now than I have been in years. I've grown so much in three weeks I hardly recognize myself. I've changed. I've evolved. I've strengthened. I have more confidence because I've had a taste of what I can do and it's more than I had imagined. I've faced some of the most difficult situations and challenges of my life in only 24 days and I've come out better than when I went in. I've limped 16 miles in a single day. I've had my life threatened. I've lost that which I hold most dear. I've left behind that which I love. I've lost my way. I've broken down. I've cried. I've been rained on. I've been cursed at. I've had garbage thrown at me. I've wished I was home.

I've also seen the sun rise over the treetops. I've seen clear, blue waves crash against a rocky shore. I've hugged children. I've been shown kindness. I've travelled from Birmingham, AL to Scranton, PA in less than 24 hours without spending a dime. I've made new friends. I've driven a go cart through a neighborhood. I've lost weight. I've found my way. I've grown up. I've grown stronger. I've seen green leaves turn gold. I've eaten authentic New England clam chowder. I've made people smile. And most importantly, I've learned that all it takes to live a dream is the ability to put one foot in front of the other until you get there.

That's why I'm doing this.

Any more questions?

Your Dreams: Realized

Recently I read an email from back home in which I learned that so many people were talking about my trip. I was told that me, doing this trip and being out here in places I've never seen before was inspiring people. People that I know were talking about how they suddenly wanted to travel, wanted to finish something they'd left incomplete or to just try something new.

That's such an amazing thing, to have that deep yearning to go out and do something new. It's such a powerful, raw emotion. It's inspiring. It's motivating. It's your fuel that drives you to accomplish great things. But just experiencing that emotion, understanding that you have a dream and wanting to see that dream become a reality is not enough. It's only the beginning. Wanting to do something is the easiest thing in the world. Knowing what you want to do and having that desire will only get you so far... and then you're stuck. If dreaming is all you do, you'll never leave your living room.

You have to take that energy that fills you and focus it into planning. You have to choose a direction and chart a course. You have to calculate and plot and figure out how to get from where you are right now to where you need to be. It could be long-distance travel, it could be taking up a new hobby, or simply finishing that project that you started last year. But if all you do is think about it, it will all remain unfinished.

Please, anyone who is reading this blog who has felt inspired by my trip to do something new and exciting and adventurous, don't leave it as a desire. Make some plans, organize your finances and figure out what you need to do to realize your dreams. And once you've done that, set the ball rolling. Start making preparations today. Start gearing up for whatever it is you're planning to do. Start saving money and getting in shape or taking knitting lessons or whatever it is you need to accomplish your goal. Make a bucket list and jump headlong into the biggest, most ambitious thing on it.

One day, sooner than you realize, you will die. And on that day there will be no time for another cup of coffee with your grandmother, sewing lessons, a trip to the Grand Canyon, skydiving, a cross-country road trip or a vacation to the Bahamas. If you haven't done what you desire to do, there will only be time for regret.

Don't be that person who faces death and says "I wish I had done that when I was younger."

Your time to act is growing shorter whether you use that time or not. When your life comes to its inevitable close, will you look back on it with regret or will you smile at the dreams you realized?

Providence to Boston and back to Providence

After several days of exploration in Providence and the surrounding area I hopped a commuter rail up to Boston ($7.75) and started exploring a city I'd heard so many great things about. I checked out China Town and ate some tasty treats there but discovered that I like Americanized Chinese more than authentic Chinese. Call me a sinner, but I feel that food should be enjoyed and if you don't enjoy something there's no sense in pretending you do just because it's more authentic than the alternative. You're only cheating yourself. Not that the food was bad, it's just that I'd rather eat General Chicken than Chicken Feet if given a choice.

There's some nice architecture up in Boston and some really beautiful old churches, but the big difference between Boston and Providence is the people. In Providence everyone is open and friendly and willing to strike up a conversation with you, even more so than Montgomery. In Boston, no one talks. People look straight ahead and march. They nod if you greet them, but there's no verbal response. The entire place seemed so much colder as far as people went. They weren't rude, they just didn't care to talk. I found this to be the case all over the Boston area including Wellseley and Cambridge.

I got to see the Harvard campus which is kind of a strange place. It looks like a nice university but the section of town it's in appears rather run down. It's like Harvard thrived and the city around it died. It just seemed out of place.

The roads in Boston are horrible. There's cracks and potholes everywhere. It's the only place I've seen with worse roads than Louisiana. They're terrible and the only thing worse is the drivers. NO ONE IN BOSTON CAN DRIVE! They drift from lane to lane, oblivious of other vehicles on the road. They stay in the left lane when they need to turn right and then they just turn, nearly causing wrecks. They almost run down cyclists every few minutes. They lounge around intersections when the light is green and then gun it through red lights. It's like all the rules of the road are just polite suggestions that Bostonians never heard. It's worse than Houston traffic. It's worse than Austin traffic. It's worse than anything. At least in Houston those 50 billion people have a general idea of how to drive. In Boston, no. It's like half the drivers are children who can't see over the wheel and the other half are blind... and drunk.

I also checked out the MIT Museum. If you get a chance to go there, go. And it's free on Sundays. The place is action-packed with cool stuff like little electronic devices that were wired by viruses using nanotechnology and odd little machines that do strange things. The coolest things were the robots and the AI. The people at MIT are really smart or really stupid because they're going to build the robots that become self-aware and take over the world and I don't think it's going to take them long... if the zombies don't get us first.

There was also this cool chick named Allie who was working with a team of people to develop the next generation of space suit. It looks wicked-awesome. I asked her tons of questions about it because I find that sort of thing cool. The idea behind a lot of it seems like science fiction, but I know that it'll probably be in use before I'm 50. That's just the way that science fiction works, like all the crazy stuff mentioned in that book 'Ender's Game' back in the early 70's. He talked about touch screens, computer tablets, chat rooms, virtual reality simulations, flight simulators and laser tag. And now it's all old news.

I left Boston on Monday afternoon and returned to Providence. I really like this city and I'm going to spend a lot of time here on future trips. It's a really great place. I'm currently staying with two guys named Derek and Nathan who showed me the Lincoln Woods State Park. It's a beautiful patch of the world just north of Providence. There's rocky woods, sassafras trees and maple. Their leaves already turning red and gold. A large pond on the southern end of the park has several small, rocky-shored islands. It's quite scenic. But everywhere I looked, every time I tried to take a photo of the natural splendor, the view was broken by a road or a sign or a building or a line of boulders carefully arranged by the park service. Why do we feel we need to conquer nature? Why do we set aside a patch of land to be preserved and then tear down the trees to build a field so people can play frisbee with their dogs? Why to we have to damage what we claim to enjoy?

I tried to just enjoy the park, but I wanted so badly to pull up all the signs and tear down the buildings and let nature fix what man had ruined. My relaxing walk in the park ended up leaving me in a bitter mood. I was angry.

Maybe a race of robots from MIT bent on human annihilation is just what the earth needs. Perhaps they would be more responsible with regards to their home than we have been. They certainly couldn't be any worse. Is it wrong for me to think like that? If so, I don't really care. And if you saw that park and it's marred beauty, like an abuse child, you'd feel the same way.

Apples and Clams

While walking across Providence in a desperate attempt to get to a Best Buy so I could find out if someone was going to put me up for the night, I strolled through the rain for God-only-knows how many miles. On my walk, while drenched and drowning in the unrelenting downpour, I emerged from beneath an overpass to see numerous apples rotting on the sidewalk beside Rhode Island Hwy 2. If they had all been the same size or in the same state of decay, I'd have assumed they had been tossed out. But they weren't. I looked up and beheld an apple tree.

After setting down my pack I plodded up the hill and selected a nice, mostly ripe apple. It was quite tasty and scrumptious. I had never picked an apple before and if I hadn't been forced to walk across Providence to Warwick, I wouldn't have had that experience.

With the apple consumed, I tossed the core at the base of the tree and moved on to eventually find Best Buy and post the blog that went up the other day.

I spent most of today walking around Newport, taking photos of houses that are almost 300 years old, but the highlight of my day by far was eating clam chowder in White Horse Tavern. Built in 1673 as a home and converted to a tavern in 1730, it's the oldest tavern in the country. The bar and dining area is let my candles and oil lamps because there's no electrical wiring. The cash register is hooked up to an extension cord.

The bartender, a guy named Aryn, was extremely interested in my travels and shared with me stories of his time working on yachts and traveling with them. The chowder was great, the atmosphere was rich and the staff friendly. On top of that, I was eating in a tavern that was serving people drinks more than 40 years before this country was founded.

Thanks for the chowder, Aryn. And thanks for taking my picture at the bar. I'm going to hang on to that one.

I'd like to tell you all about my wonderful experiences in the Providence area, but eventually I have to sleep. All I can say for now is that the downtown district was designed to make your jaw drop. If you come up here, bring extra batteries and memory cards for your camera.

Take it easy everyone and thanks for following. Let's see where I end up next.