Traveling by foot is down right sapping! The relation between distance and time has been playing games with my emotional state. I've had to get used to the fact that I just can't cover much ground in a day's span. Riding in the saddle all day served up it's tasty share of aches and pains, but walking dishes up a $6.99 buffet of soreness for my body to feast on, and it never seems to get full. So I'm a tugboat constantly pulling along the chain of emotions and pushing physically against the barge of pain with each step I take.
I've been covering about 20 miles on a good day, considering time for a rest and refueling every few hours, chatting with folks along the way, and providing myself ample time at the end of each day to find a suitable post for camp. By four or five o'clock scouting out a decent place to pitch my tent is more urgent and time consuming than I ever imagined. I've found myself frantic many times at dusk with no safe place to go, and have ended up camping along roadways and behind convenience stores. Needless to say it's a wondrous and enlightening experience, and even though most nights I'm clutching my knife in one hand and pepper spray in the other, I always awake excited with the new sun to see which path will be shone bright.
Speaking of bright lights, I've only had one encounter with the police. In Toronto I set up camp on a point by the water in a thicket of trees, well hidden. At midnight I unzipped my tent to see seven flashlights shining in my groggy eyes, with an equally stunned set of bike cops behind them. They seemed tickled to see a young girl camping out there alone as I told them about my journey. They ran my Missouri license and asked me all kinds of questions, mainly about tattoos or any other identifiable markings I may have on my body. I felt like Mitchy from Dazed and Confused when they asked if I had any pot, and I kid you not they replied, "Well, it'd be a lot cooler if you did! "They joked around with me for half an hour and told me to bundle up and stay safe, but not to camp out there again. That pretty much sums Canada up right there. Very lax, these folks.
It's interesting to see the difference in ways people react to me now, with a 40 lb pack on my back in comparison to a fully-loaded touring bike. While riding I'd get noticed in a supportive way, receiving encouraging ges
tures and looks of awe as I peddled by. It didn't seem to matter how much I stank or how sweat-ringed my neon clothes were, my bike kind of spoke for me. Most seemed to have an automatic amount of respect for that way of travel, and people knew what I was up to. Now as I limp into a place all haggard and dusty with a perm-a-squint on my face people assume I'm up to no good. They look at me with discern as I clumsily squeeze through the tiny isles of the variety store, my pack knocking off product all over the floor. They see me as a bum, a loaf, a poor lonely girl who's lost her way. On my bike I was approached at an overcoming rate, always the same questions of "Where are you from? Where are you going? How long have you been gone?" Now people yell at me from their cars screaming "Where you runnin' from, Girl!" And, "Does your mother know where you are?" Sometimes I feel as if I am being avoided, or even treated as a threat. Almost as if I get to close, they'll discover something missing an hour later.
Actually most people I run into are quite amazing. If they just give me a chance they quickly realize I am not a bum. I'm a motivated traveler who's choosing to live this way. I have dream, an everchanging itinerary, and a force inside of me that keeps me moving forward. Even though I may be rummaging through the dumpsters for food (not much luck there), I still have decent equipment and clothes, an education, and a bath every once in a while. I'm sure as shit never going to steal from anyone. I'm more like a skunk, I should be more afraid of you than you are of me. I also stink, I do have spray, and I'm not afraid to use it! There have been several instances when strangers have offered me free coffee, bought me meals, or just shoved money in my hand. Those situations are rather awkward, but much appreciated! Thank you! I never know quite how to handle those surprising affairs. It's hard to refuse something when it's insisted upon you keep it, when contributing makes them feel good. They get to be a part of my journey. My gratitude to their beneficence runs deep, and it's the compassion of a stranger that keeps my journey advancing. For anyone who helps me along my way I take their name and a picture and when appropriate I ask for their address so I may send them a postcard and let them know my whereabouts. I want to remember them, all of them. Here are only a few...
Actually most people I run into are quite amazing. If they just give me a chance they quickly realize I am not a bum. I'm a motivated traveler who's choosing to live this way. I have dream, an everchanging itinerary, and a force inside of me that keeps me moving forward. Even though I may be rummaging through the dumpsters for food (not much luck there), I still have decent equipment and clothes, an education, and a bath every once in a while. I'm sure as shit never going to steal from anyone. I'm more like a skunk, I should be more afraid of you than you are of me. I also stink, I do have spray, and I'm not afraid to use it! There have been several instances when strangers have offered me free coffee, bought me meals, or just shoved money in my hand. Those situations are rather awkward, but much appreciated! Thank you! I never know quite how to handle those surprising affairs. It's hard to refuse something when it's insisted upon you keep it, when contributing makes them feel good. They get to be a part of my journey. My gratitude to their beneficence runs deep, and it's the compassion of a stranger that keeps my journey advancing. For anyone who helps me along my way I take their name and a picture and when appropriate I ask for their address so I may send them a postcard and let them know my whereabouts. I want to remember them, all of them. Here are only a few...
This woman bought me a Gatorade and gave me $20! First day walking.
The woman on the left gave me $10, and the one on the right gave me free coffee and a donut!
Bruce and Tracy found me on the beach and invited me for dinner and a bed to sleep in. They even gave me a goody bag to take with me of the leftovers! So much fun!
Stayed with couchsurfers in Toronto! These two were so sweet.
Rick gave me $20, referred me to a woman to stay with in the next town, a book recommendation, and advice on life!
It's funny because of all the wonderful people I've met 80% are extremely worried for my safety. I know there are a few rotten apples out there, but I'm awe-struck by the bushels of Golden love, sweet Grannies, and Red Delicious seeds of wisdom that blossom from this Tree of Life. Their generosity, concern, compassion and hospitality reassure my belief that people are good. It's exciting to wander through a town and find people to talk to, to inspire you. You never know when the next person you meet may change your life. I have found that no matter the impact, there is something meaningful to learn from every encounter be it person, plant, or animal. That's the great thing about walking, the pace is slow enough to really soak up the surroundings. I start to realize how huge the planet is and how unnoticed the majority of things are. Even though the tress, stones, flowers and blades of grass line the roadways, have they ever really been looked at? Have they ever really been appreciated? Sometimes I catch a glimpse of a tiny mouse scampering under a rock, or see a pallid flower forcing it's way through a crack in the shoulder of the road, and I wonder if it has ever been seen with human eyes before or if it ever will again after mine have lain upon it. I begin to feel special, privileged, as though I now have a purpose, to acknowledge the beauty. If only to give thanks for the charm of bark on a roadside tree. Many thanks, indeed.
