Someone Else's Dream

The tumbleweed blew across the road as the mountains turned into a highland desert. We left Seattle behind not on foot as planned but on a road trip to Cincinnati. The rest of our traveling companions have their individual reasons for heading there.
We passed into Idaho and out again just as quickly. It's a small state when you're just crossing the panhandle. On the way through I saw a sign that said, "Welcome to the center of the universe -Wallace, Idaho". I didn't have a moment of satori as I passed through but the town did seem interesting. They had a nice older looking downtown area, all five story brick buildings. They even had a bordello museum, I'd definitely like to go back some day.
We chased a lightning storm across Montana as well. It kept pace with us for over 4 hours, flashing its lights in the distance. The ground was flat enough that we always seemed to be heading straight into it.
In South Dakota we visited the town of Wall, and of course visited Wall Drug. It was an absolute horror of American tourist traps. Filled to the brim with every kitschy item you can imagine and beyond that even. It was almost impossible to eat as a vegetarian across the middle of the States but I figured as much and ate a lot of breakfast.
Before we hit Iowa we started worrying about all the flooding. We weren't sure if the highway would be open or not, but it seemed they had just opened up the Interstate which was very good. As we drove through you could just tell that the ground was utterly saturated with water and in parts lakes lapped right against the shoulder of the Interstate.
We arrived in Cincinnati and left just as quickly. Not by choice... necessity was fueling our trip out to Buffalo. We are here now and the trip is over just as quickly as it began. I would say the trip was pointless but I can't even begin to describe how amazing Seattle was, how generous each person we couch surfed with was, and even what the drive to Cincinnati was like. I do not have the words. I wish it could have gone on longer, I wish that money was not the absolute ruling entity in all our lives. I am disappointed but in the end, it's all alright. Any experience at all is better than none and I have faith that I will attempt it again.

The Adversity of the Road

The road has been hard. We first visited the small town of Caldwell, ID where I spent my formative years. It was around 30 miles away from our starting location and our packs were heavy. The journey was difficult but with the help of two friendly individuals we made it. Those friendly faces will be burnt into my memory. Tim was the first. He actually turned his car around and drove us 8 miles in the opposite direction of where he was going just to hear our story and to tell us a little of his. He gave us two roses and some religious texts as parting gifts and wished us well. The day smelled of sunshine and farming. As night was falling and our destination was still miles away we ran into Roger. He had been out on his four wheeler watering his crops all day but saw our need. We planted our butts on the back of his four wheeler and held on as he drove us further towards our destination. He left us with kind words as well and suggestions of where we could sleep.
We reached the river where we planned to camp utterly exhausted and sore. It was after midnight and we still needed to pitch the tent. We managed to do so and fell into the slumber worthy of the trip. We spent a few days in Caldwell resting and decided to lighten our packs. They were just too heavy to make good time. I'm wearing the clothes on my back, my pack filled with only the essentials plus one book and my journal. Much lighter we weighed our options, after some debating we decided to catch a greyhound to Seattle. It was more complicated than I had imagined as the greyhound in Caldwell had been shutdown and we found ourselves needing to be back in Boise. This was more than a little disheartening. We spent the night in a hotel in Boise after catching a bus and had a long night and morning filled with discontent, insecurity and general doubt. We caught that bus though and after one more night of rest I feel like we are ready again to hit the road after we explore more of Seattle's sights, sounds, and tastes. I already am relishing the fact that we are in an actual living city again, the noise is comforting, the coffee is wonderful, and my heart is willing.

Into the great wide open

Well we leave tomorrow! It's going to be a grand adventure and I can't wait! Our packs are ready (pretty heavy with the extra food we're bringing so as not to waste it), our minds are set, and our will is strong.


Here we go. :)

Cost. vs. Benefit Analysis

This journal was created with the idea of detailing my account of the journey across the country but I feel it would be negligent to not indicate some of the hardships of undertaking such a quest or the unexpected rewards from the beginning.

The first hardship, I would have to say, is my family. After that initial conversation there have been no others. I saw them briefly once and I will see them briefly once again simply to store the items that I don't need. It's as though I have already gone in spirit and they are simply waiting for the flesh to follow course... perhaps they're right. However, I cannot ignore the feeling of sadness that comes over me though at the thought of how long I will be gone and how much longer after I arrive that I may not see them.

The second hardship is packing. It's different from just moving because in this instance everything I would rather not have is already packed away. I probably wouldn't care if I didn't see it for years. Now I'm starting to pack away the things I will really miss, my books, my movies, my music. All the things that I won't get to see or feel for months. Sadly I believe my guitar is making it onto this list. It was a naive hope that I would be able to take it with me. Perhaps it speaks to the nature of my familial relations that out of everything my guitar is the one thing I will miss the most.

The first reward is kindness. Our landlord, a wonderful man even before this occured, has gifted us with some very useful items. A handcrank powered flashlight and a hydration pack. He kept looking for more things he could give us to make our journey just a little easier, but sadly we are reaching our weight limit. That gesture alone has given me some hope for the people I might meet on my travels.

The second reward is feeling prepared. There is nothing that compares to the idea of any possible hardship you can conceive being met with the knowledge that you have prepared and equipped yourself to the best of your means. Creating a first aid kit was one of those moments where I thought to myself, "Self, you are ready."

The third reward is recognition. As the itinerary gets finalized, more gets added to the journey. Stops along the way, campgrounds, water, etc. I recognize just how hard this is going to be now. I recognize how much danger there is in doing something like this. I also recognize that once again I am doing that which people say I can not and should not. I recognize that the impossible drives me to succeed.

World, I am ready, I shall meet you in six days time.

A Fool's Game

A few days ago I informed my parents of the trip. My mother was belligerent, as is often her course of action, while my step-father was very calm and reserved. My mother often incited how it's not the '60s, how there are "weirdos" out there, that I think I know everything, and that no one just walks across the country anymore. I told them that I am a fool, that I know nothing, and that if no one does it that makes my attempt all that much better.


Familial love is a powerful thing. It's strong enough to heal the world but instead exhausts its energy in tearing itself apart with worry.

A Life in Boxes

I am furiously packing my life away in boxes. Each meager and pitiful thing finding a home among its dusty companions, all the things I don't need and hardly used. It's funny to see how my priorities work out. The first thing I packed away was clothes. Copious ammounts of clothing that I've held onto for years because I never knew when I'd be able to replace it. So many articles that have travelled across the country numerous times that I can hear their imaginary petulant voices ringing out at the injustice of the box. Next was knickknacks, things I never bought for myself but felt I should hang onto out of some sense of duty. My hobbies are being packed away next, one by one, their importance fades in the pressing need to be gone. And with each item that's put away, all I can think is, "I don't need you."

Beginning in the Mountains

The 1st of June cannot come quickly enough, nor do I have enough time to do all that needs to be done. From that date a new beginning will present itself and I will jump full on into that blissfully miserable void. I am leaving behind everything I own besides that which I can carry on my back and will be backpacking across the country. In hand I will have my guitar, my cameras, and my journal to which I will try to document every instance in which life presents itself to me. To say I'm excited would be an understatement, to presume I'm unafraid would be naive, so lets just say that I am looking forward with delightful trepidation.
I hope to log my journey here whenever I can so that the few people I know can follow my progress, and if along the way I meet some happy strangers, they too are welcome to read.

The plan is to head West from my current location (Boise, Idaho) and into Oregon. I will then travel along the coast and down into California. From there it will be across the vast desert plains, into the fields of eternity, and perhaps onto the Appalachian trail to NYC. We'll see how this plan holds up. I look forward to writing my adventure and meeting all who are interested.