For the record...

Most of the cops I've encountered on this journey have been very cool to me. I've said it before and I will say it again (unless it changes). Usually they go by the book, running my drivers' license to make sure there are no warrants out for my arrest and whatnot. Every time they do it, though, they come up with nothing on me (because I am not a criminal), and most of them end up expressing quite an interest in what I'm doing. They usually end up asking me a lot of questions about Aimless, nicely.

However, a few cops have been assholes to me. Whenever that has happened, I've written about it here because this is a web log of my adventure. Whenever it may happen in the future, I will write about it again, just as I will write about the cool cops I encounter.

If you don't like the fact that I write about every side of this adventure, then tough shit. There are no rose-colored glasses here, and I do not play favorites. (I mean, why would anyone say nice things about people who have fucked with them for absolutely no reason? The way I see it, I can ignore it, thus perpetuating it, or I can talk realistically about the things that happen to me, which may actually make a positive difference.) I also will not change my methods or my personality for the sake of attracting sponsorship. I just call it as I see it, and that is one of the things that makes Aimless great.

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While I'm talking about cops, I want to tell the story of what happened two nights ago, when my ride dropped me off a couple miles from my aunt and uncle's campground:

Shortly after I began walking down the road toward the campground, I reached an intersection. Having been there only once before, I knew I didn't want to go left and I was pretty sure I needed to turn right. The other option--straight ahead--appeared to be merely a driveway or an entrance to perhaps another campground. There was almost no lighting, so I couldn't tell that it was actually a road. Then I took a right.

After walking about two miles down the road to the right, I was beginning to feel pretty sure that I'd chosen the wrong road. Then a Jefferson County Sheriff's deputy pulled up on the other side of the road. He ran my driver's license and all that, eventually asking me to describe the place I was trying to find. Once I told him, he assured me I wasn't going to find it on that road. So after all the routine stuff, he let me put my stuff (and myself) in the back of his cruiser, then drove me back to the intersection and drove down the road I couldn't see before.

Pretty quickly I knew we were on the correct road. I just didn't know if I'd recognize the entrance to the campground. Well, when we approached the first campground, I recognized it as the one I'd been to before.

Long story short... I found my aunt and uncle's camper reasonably easily, thanking the deputy before he drove off to continue doing his job. That was about 2:00 AM. If not for his assistance, I would have been pretty screwed, probably getting no sleep that night and waiting at least until sunrise to call my aunt (still not knowing if they were even at the campground).

I sincerely appreciate your assistance, Mr. Deputy, and I wish I would have asked for your name so I could properly thank you. If you ever read this, please respond so I can include your name in the credits.

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Aimless
The Quasi-Aimless Trailer
If you'd like to contact me, call me at 614-738-3867.