Nothing gold can stay Part 2

Part 2: Does this blog entertain you? Do you anticipate that the documentary "Aimless" will entertain you? Well, how bad do you want it? If I don't acquire some of the stuff I need really damn soon, I'll have to quit because I'm not going to keep abusing myself to this ridiculous extent. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me just to keep my phone charged so I can write these posts? I can't just plug it in while I sleep, y'know. I spent half an hour looking for an electrical outlet and another 2 hours charging my phone instead of doing what I needed to do because writing these posts zaps my battery. Do you have any idea how much time it takes for me to re-draft most of these posts to keep them at 1,000 characters or less? Again, how bad do you want it? I absolutely need your help. Without your help, Aimless is dead. I don't want to operate like Jan Gee, but I have nothing else to
say until someone out there convinces an outdoor equipment manufacturer rep to call me.

Nothing gold can stay

Part 1: My feet hurt with every step I take because the tread on my shoes is mostly gone. I have to sleep curled up in a fetal position every night because I don't fit inside my tent. I have to wear jeans, 2 shirts, a jacket, and curl up inside my sleeping bag every night because my sleeping bag cannot handle the temperatures in which I sleep. (That still doesn't keep me warm enough to sleep well.) The waistlines of my shorts and jeans are at least 3 inches bigger than my waist, and the tightest notch on my belt is at least an inch bigger than my waist. My backpack can no longer function effectively because the tightest waist strap setting is bigger than my waist. (A tight waist strap is the most important function of the backpack because it keeps the weight on the hips, not the shoulders.) 30% of my socks have holes in them. Now can you understand why I absolutely need you to contact
the manufacturers of these products in an effort to replace the stuff I need?...

Intermission

I'm in a redwood forest near Redway, California. I've walked 446 miles since beginning Aimless Leg 2. I saw a dead bear two or three days ago. Mom, don't freak out whenever I don't blog for a couple days. Sometimes I'm in the middle of god-damn nowhere and I can't use my phone in any way, OK. And when I don't blog for a couple days, don't be calling me over and over. But if I do manage to get myself killed out here and end up with enough footage for a good story, ownership of Aimless becomes 33% Jeffeory Norris's, 33% Jay Rivers's, and 34% Mom, Dad, Roman, and Mark's, as long as they work to finish it. If I somehow manage to tape my own death, I don't mind if people see it, AS LONG AS IT IS PART OF THE STORY. (No, I'm not preparing to die out here. But if I do die, I want this stuff known.) Carolyn, I think I ended up with your hair brush in my stuff. I don't know how it got there; all
I know is that I have a brush that isn't mine.