Blankets Under The Stars

The apartment is getting bigger by the day. Bigger and dirtier. The more stuff that moves out, the more scudgy particles remain. The clutter of what's left seems more apparent. All I can think about is the goodness of going. The brilliance of being. My big concern is not my resume or 401k or finding a house with a good fescue lawn. I'm worried about finding a sleeping bag that will pack small and keep me warm while snoozin' in the Rockies. I'm worried I won't find enough varmits to keep my food bill down along the way. I'm worried unions will have pay-by-the-day temp work all sewn up. I'm worried the wind won't be my friend.

The cool thing about my worries is that they won't stop me. What sucks about your worries is that they will flatten you.

Miles of road'll be rollin' under me before long. I'm jumping outa my skin.
I'll be ready to roll before I can.
You better appreciate what I leave under the bridge, you fucking trolls!

Turning Bedouin

The apartment is getting empty as if it were ever close to full. Stuff is scattered everywhere throughout the rooms. Books in stacks, mail in piles according to importance, clothes I can't figure out what to do with, either trash 'em, or leave 'em under the bridge. My two closest friends have expressed interest in buying some of my junk at drastically slashed prices.

I'm tellin' you, bitches, I'm on the fucking road! I may trade my bike in for a shaft-drive job. They're cheaper than chain drive bikes and supposedly much more efficient.


Time to look at some maps...

Getting Foggy

Drizzling, a little windy, cloudy, and cold. What happened to my Spring? I'll tell you what happened. Oklahoma stole it!

As the diffused light was fading early this evening, I took a stroll to the river. I followed a foot trail down the hill toward the river's edge, the actual edge, not the bistro. I followed it through the trees, the vines, the super green wild fescue. I chanced upon a large lean-to, big enough to be a porch made from natural materials. It looked like something out of a postcard from Ireland. Far be it from me to disturb anyone, I headed on back and started gathering things up to give to my friends when I had the thought of hauling some of that stuff over. An old hunting knife, a small dome tent, a couple of books, a cargo blanket, some wire coat hangers, YES, wire, and a few other things.
What a great idea. Give all this stuff to the homeless! They're right accross the street. No need to haul anything in the guzzler.

The towers on the other side of the river are tipped with blasting flames that made the beacon of Alexandria look cheap. The flames remind me of those fly-guys you see at concerts and used car lots. Their bodies swaying all random, arms flailng wildly, like souls burning in Hell and producing light.

Not much more than a month, and I give it to the road.

Hobo En Eutero

I've kicked the ol' ball down the hill. It's rolling. I'll be pedalin' my ass west in no time. I'm Frisco bound. Everything's gotta go. I'm selling it all. Thankfully, I never had any furniture to deal with and lotsa stuff can just fall into the dumpster. My friends get first dibs on all the good stuff.

So far, no one's tried to talk me out of it. That's a relief. I can't stand that shit.

The gear-up begins!

Fuego Amore

An interesting little side note.

I was reading from Tobler's "Fighting With the German Longsword" when the floor of my apartment bumped sharply under me to the concussive WHUMP! from across the river. I looked out my bedroom window to see the black mushroom in the overcast sky. My eyes followed the stem to its base to see the fire roaring silent at the refinery on the other side of the Arkansas.
The prayers of those nearby must have been answered for about six or seven minutes into the burn, the rain she came down. The fire, sure enough, seems to be out now. The sun is beaming through the thin veil of clouds brightly, yet the rain , she no stop. A sign of Spring, to be sure.

Yes, all the signs of Spring: intermittent showers, the shining sun, exploding refineries, and raging fires. These pleasant things, as they always do this time of year, turn one's thoughts to those of love.

I wonder what Linda's doing right now.

Stink Blossoms

"GET THE FUCK OUTA THERE, GET THE FUCK OUTA THERE!!!"
I'm yelling at the ambassador-in-training as an actress reads her letter to home from her post in Rwanda. She writes about how the Tutsi minority is about to be slaughtered by the disgruntled Hutu. We all know how that went down.

Another saddle-sore day. I musta rode 25 miles. That's only a couple of hours worth of riding on a bike unburdened by panniers, or saddle bags, full of gear.
Fruit trees are blooming all down the river and the wind blows their sweet stink all over the place.

It's time to start thinking about what I'm gonna do with all this crap.

Greasy Grip

Crummy day. A little too chilly with plenty of light rain with heavy drops. The shit is supposed to stop tonight. It might make it to warm tomorrow. I might make it to San Francisco yet. I'm tellin' you, it's bound to reallity. Not if but when.

Just in case anyone is wondering, here is a website that deals with cycling across the country.
http://www.adventurecycling.org/routes/westernexpress.cfm

Things like this do not encourage sanity; but, as some author said in an interview, "I have NEVER turned my back on madness!".

Let me hear ya say "JOY", bitches!

Blow Away

What a day. I rode my bike along the river for quite a ways. Just truckin' along not really paying attention to distance or time. I was trying to clear my grape of all the stone walls I've been hitting lately. I made it back to my place after racking up around 20 miles. After a shower and a nap, I now want to go out for a beer, but I keep convincing myself not to go. Listening to River Walk Jazz on the radio, I'm sending myself out the door more and more. Yeah, I need to get out and let my acquantances know I'm still in the game...At least for now.

I'm thinking of a bike ride to San Francisco. Why not? I'd kinda like to sit at one of my favorite bars, The Saloon, somewhere on the fringe of China Town. It's been there over 150 years so it'll probably be there when/if I show up. HEY! It might be a record. The longest distance anyone's ridden a bike for a Guiness...AND it'd be GUINESS world record. They're the same people, ya know.

Yeah, that's the best idea I've ever had.

Devil Wind

3am. Everything's here but the woman, rain, and whiskey. I keep entertaining ideas of selling the truck, loading up the bicycle, and hitting the road. It makes more sense the more I think about it, of course. I can't seem to talk any sense into myself.
When I get my earnest money back from the real estate deal gone to Hell, I may invest in saddle bags, or panniers, for the bike. I'm tellin' you, I think it's really gonna happen. It's a quest. That's it! It's a fucking quest!
EVERYBODY appreciates a quest! That's it, bitches! Rationalization. That's all it takes.

Recharge

Shit. It turns out that Trapezoid LTD.co. doesn't have enough assets to qualify for a loan so I'm out. Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta back up, regroup, and look at this from another angle. Maybe I'll sell books or something. I may already have an angle on fencing gear for my class. Whatever, man, whatever! I'll get something going.

I started riding my bike around downtown again. I took along my digicam and snapped a few good shots. I discovered that the Courtyard Deli in the Atlas Life building is now open on Saturdays so I went in for some vegitable soup. Damn fine soup, indeed. I then went into the lobby of the building and I could swear I walked into 1939. This was the first time I'd ever been in there. Fucking cool. I took a picture of the statue of Atlas holding up a big clock on his shoulders. Atlas and I were the only ones there. Then I just stood in the lobby with it's brass trim everywhere. The Saturday afternoon quiet piercing my ears. I let that wierd feeling cause the flapping of wings in my gut. Like I could almost see ghosts. I hopped on the bike and wheeled it over to Caz's for a High Life. I made it back to the apartment just before it started cooling off for the evening. Now I'm just kinda gathering my wits for the next big push.