Jim Kasper, where are you?

Jim Kasper: If you're out there, I hope to hear from you again. I call your phone number every once in a while, just to see if it's back in operation, but no luck. I worry about you, dude. I consider you a very good friend and I hope you're all right.

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Why I walked from coast to coast

You're probably going to think I'm a selfish jerk after you read what I say here, but I'm going to say it anyway because I'm an honest person who believes critical thinking is infinitely more valuable and respectable than just saying what you know people want to hear. Besides, with what I've done, my voice matters now, even if no one listens to it.

There are at least a couple other people in the middle of coast-to-coast walks right now. These guys are receiving tons of attention that I didn't receive, mostly because they have causes, which they promote to a ridiculous extent.

I want to let you in on something: The idea to do a long walk comes long before the idea to have a cause, except in a few rare instances. People don't walk because they have a cause. Rather, they start planning a walk because they've become sick of life's bullshit and they don't know what else to do. After having a while to think about it, they come up with a cause because they realize a cause is an easy way to get attention, which might be the cheap ticket to a bullshit-free life. Then they come up with a heroic-sounding name for their walk because they realize people buy into that kind of propaganda. Although I think the guys doing this are decent people, I have no respect for the way they use phony causes to trick people for attention.

I knew way before I began my walk that I could attract a lot of media attention by having a cause. But unlike most other ultra-long-distance-walkers, I chose not to have a cause because I have integrity.

So if I didn't do this for attention, why does it piss me off that other walkers are getting attention?

Because I'm human, I guess, and because only I know what an amazing feat I've just accomplished.

What I did was infinitely more difficult than what these other guys are doing. Unlike the others, I carried all my gear at all times. No carts on wheels for my stuff, and nobody bringing me water or supplies. Unlike the others, I had to sleep outside almost every night, whether it was 10 degrees or 90 degrees (which was the norm for three months). With these temperatures, I didn't get much quality rest.

I had almost no money and no comfort. Since I didn't write "HERO" all over myself for everyone to see, I regularly had to deal with dirty cops (and I even spent three nights in jail). For over two months, in the desert and Rocky Mountains, I had a backpack with a broken frame, which put almost all of the weight on my left shoulder. (Back then I was carrying 60-65 lbs, sometimes more.) Yet with all this stuff making it difficult for me, I still averaged 16.5 miles a day (or 18.5 miles a day if you don't count off-days). That may not seem like a lot of daily miles to you, but you have no idea. Believe me, 16.5 miles a day over 211 days with an average of 55 lbs on your back is absolutely nuts.

I have beaten up my body in ways almost no one else can comprehend (including the cause-walkers). I hurt like hell constantly, and the pain is not going to end for a long time, if ever.

No, I didn't do this for media attention, but I feel like I've earned some attention and recognition, and I'm a little disappointed that I haven't received any. And honestly, it really bugs me that these other guys have been treated like heroes by the masses for doing something that really doesn't compare to what I've done.

So do you want to know why I did this coast-to-coast walk?

I did it because I said I could do it. I did it because I can do anything I tell you I can do. If I can't do something, I won't tell you I can do it.

Taking it a step farther: If I tell you I am THE BEST at something, it's because I really am the best. If I'm not the best, I won't tell you I'm the best.

Having said that, I want you to know that I am the best when it comes to making and selling pizza. I can do it better than anyone. That's not arrogance; it's confidence in knowledge. I admit I have a lot left to learn about owning a business, but that's the easy part. The hard part is learning how to create a marketable product, then selling that product to people, and I figured out how to do that a long time ago. So if there's any smart money out there reading this, you really ought to consider sending some of it this way because I'll turn it into more money.

You've all heard the term "Put your money where your mouth is." Yeah, well, I don't have any money, so I put my body where my mouth is, for seven months, 24 hours a day. (There probably aren't many people who could have done it in less than 9 months.)

I'm not a talker; I'm a doer. Now that I've done the hardest, most painful thing anyone can do, I'm very proud of the accomplishment and I want it to mean something. I want to be able to create some good jobs for a few handfuls of people who currently have no avenues available. I want to lead by example by paying my workers a higher hourly wage than I pay myself. And if I can somehow find my own avenue to that reality, then maybe I will eventually have the power to create even more good jobs in other ways.

Now that's a noble cause.

The sorry shape of our economy is not an accident. "The way we've always done it" is the problem. People like me are the solution.

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I'm done. I have now

I'm done. I have now walked from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean.

Brooklyn Bridge

Only about ten miles left to go.

WTC 9/11/10

Thank you

I wanna say thanks to everyone who texted me to say congratulations yesterday. I sincerely appreciate your support, and it means a lot to me. But I'm not quite done yet. I still have about 15 or 17 miles left to go. I'm gonna do a real short day today, probably stopping somewhere near the Brooklyn Bridge before finding a place to watch some Buckeye football. I could go a lot farther today, but I want to have to do some real mileage tomorrow before I finish. I want to be tired and hurting when I get to Coney Island, y'know. --> Me and my folks had some slices at Ray's at 6th Avenue and 11th Street last night. I'd eaten there a couple times before, so I knew it was good stuff, but it was really damn good last night. Ah, so much to say.

Speechless

Big apple in sight

I don't know if you can see Manhattan in this pic, but I can see it from where I took the pic. (Empire State Building is to the left of the billboard.) Awesome!

In New Jersey, everyone calls

In New Jersey, everyone calls you "Buddy" and the slices are thinner than NYC slices. Only about 20 more miles to Manhattan!

Uno mas

I can almost taste the Big Apple, baby. Only 75 or 80 miles to the George Washington Bridge (Manhattan), I think, then about 23 more to Coney Island after that. I could easily be done by Saturday, but I'll be taking Saturday off, as long as everything goes smoothly between now and then. Y'see, this Saturday is for watching Buckeye football (and then Penn State when that game is over). I guess my folks are gonna show up to witness the end of this unfuckingbelievably amazing and painful journey. There's a tear rolling down my cheek right now just from thinking about what I've ALMOST done, so I can only imagine how it will feel once I actually finish. I'll probably be crying like a little baby. Man... Wow.

Cool people

I went into a bar this evening just to ask for some water, but I ended up hanging around for a while because the people were so cool. Someone bought me a beer, while someone else bought me some chips and candy for the road, and the barkeep made me a sandwich. Another dude gave me a pack of smokes just to piss off one of the other guys. This pack might last me close to a week, since I'm kinda in the cut-down/quit phase. (Bet you thought I quit a long time ago, eh.) The bar is called Taxi's and it's in Gilberton, I believe (or Mahanoy Plain maybe). I meet so many cool people constantly, and I wish I could spend more time hanging with them, but you have almost no time to chat when you're doing over 20 miles a day, especially as the days get shorter. --> Temps are supposed to go way down beginning tomorow, so that should help me crank out the miles for at least a few days. --> Man, PA is
really a unique state. No way I could possibly describe why from my phone.

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Let the games begin

Of course I stopped by that stadium. Beaver Stadium. Yeah. Heh heh, heh. Beaver. Beee-ver. --> Are you ready for some COLLEGE football? I sure am. Go Bucks!

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200 days down and 3,246.4

200 days down and 3,246.4 miles behind me. Smokin! (Shamokin Dam, PA.) Should have less than 200 miles left to go.

Why do I see so

Why do I see so many grown men driving around w/their stereo cranking the hell out of songs that were clearly manufactured for 12-year-old girls?

State College

This is Eric getting into his car. I met Eric at a gas station shortly after entering State College Saturday. Thinking I might shoot for 35 miles that day, I chose instead to accept Eric's invitation to crash at his place. That worked out well because with my insane mileage early that day, I still did 25 miles by about 7:00, then had plenty of time to relax. --> Figuring I'd start moving no later than 3:00 Sunday afternoon, I ended up sticking around and staying at Eric's place again that night. That also worked out well because I was about 30 miles ahead of where I'd planned to be by then. --> It was cool hanging with Eric because he felt like a friend right from the start. It's nice to get a break, some comfort, and some companionship once in a while, and this was a rare instance in which I was able to receive those things. Thanks for everything, Eric. I had a great time hanging with
ya.

17.63 miles at 3:00. I

17.63 miles at 3:00. I consider 3:00 the halfway point of each day. This kind of mileage is nuts!

I've been warned that Tyrone,

I've been warned that Tyrone, PA cops are dirty creeps. I doubt that they're anything like Putnam County, IN, though. We'll find out in an hour.

The USPS doesn't screw around

The USPS doesn't screw around in Altoona. At 9:30 I've already seen three mailmen delivering mail (on foot). Good example for all the lazy-asses.

At 20 miles a day,

At 20 miles a day, I should be 260 miles from home right now. Instead, I'm 280 (Ebensburg, PA). Kicking ass! Just over 300 miles left to go.

Aw man, I just passed

Aw man, I just passed a live deer that appears to have 2 broken legs. I called 911, then left to keep from stressing him out. I feel shitty now.

I'm not applying for any

I'm not applying for any more rewards cards. If you won't sell it to me for the marked price, I'll keep my money and you can restock all of it.

Somebody better show up and

Somebody better show up and take an 'After' pic of me before I arrive in NYC because I'm gonna pig out on pizza and cheesecake when I get there.

Hey ER: If you've wondered,

Hey ER: If you've wondered, I wasn't yelling at you when I posted the same comment 3 times. That was an accident, and it's been bugging me.

I did at least 2.5

I did at least 2.5 miles in 3 different states today. Also hit the 3,000 mile mark tonight. Really crankin' out the miles lately. 3 more weeks.

Test from phone

This pic is from the spot where Forrest stopped running: Gump Hill, Monument Valley, Utah.

Long overdue update

Wondering why I haven't posted anything new over the last four months? Did you think I quit walking back in Arizona?

Yeah, well, I didn't quit.

In fact, I have now walked about 2,830 miles from Santa Monica, California to my parents' house in central Ohio. I just haven't been able to blog because Blogger made it impossible for me to blog all this time and there was nothing I could do about it. It especially pisses me off because I didn't know it was going to happen until after it happened. Consequently, I was never able to let you know what was going on.

Some highlights from the time I was unable to blog:

• Beginning about a week after I left Phoenix, I spent the next two months in elevations of 5,000 to 8,000 feet above sea level. It was very cold most of that time, especially at night, when I often had to wear all my clothes and winter gear inside my sleeping bag just to stay remotely warm.
• The Navajo are the most awesome people on the planet, particularly the Oliver family of Mexican Hat, Utah. (I know 'Oliver' doesn't sound very Navajo to you, but yes, they are Navajo.)
• Colorado was miserable in just about every way possible, with cold temps, snow, and 50 MPH winds tossing me around all the time. I crossed the continental divide at Wolf Creek Pass (10,850 feet above sea level). It last snowed on me on May 14, as I came down from La Veta Pass, near Walsenburg. Ever since then it has been miserably hot, excluding two days.
• Kansas has no trees. No trees means no shade. No shade means no comfort. No comfort means no good rest. Also, I was harassed by cops just about every day for three weeks as I crossed central and eastern Kansas. The people of Kansas, however, were very friendly and kind. I met tons of amazing people in Kansas.
• Missouri, with its absence of standing water, provided a couple weeks without mosquitos.
• Illinois was pretty boring.
• In eastern Illinois, a car drifted toward me in a spot where I had only a couple inches of shoulder to walk on. As the car continued to drift in my direction, I watched and waited for the driver to correct the car's path, but it never happened. So for a split second, I knew I was about to die. Somehow, though, I managed to get out of the way and save my own life.
• In Putnam County, Indiana, I was harassed and beaten up by a sheriff's deputy, then forced to spend three nights in jail after he charged me with offenses that never happened. (Actually there were two deputies; it's just easier to write this by turning them into one person.) This ordeal is nowhere near over, and it is the event that made me realize for sure that I will write a book about this adventure, which I likely will call Land of the Free. By the way, my rib still hurts almost three weeks later from the excessive force used by the deputies, who each weigh about twice as much as me.
• I'm totally sick of being harassed by cops, and I will continue to assert my rights every time they harass me for the rest of this walk.
• I did two consecutive 30-mile days after passing through Indy. This blows my mind because 30 miles is nuts even for one day. So to do it again the very next day... WOW! (Let me tell you about pain.) On the second night, after about 29.8 miles (five miles into Ohio), an 18-wheeler flew by me at highway speeds, a foot outside his lane, missing me by mere inches. Having walked 60 miles in the previous 38 hours, I had no strength or energy to move. This was so surreal; it felt like it took five minutes. You've never experienced anything like this.
• The day before I made it home, Mike Harden from the Columbus Dispatch met me near South Charleston. His story about me ran a few days later on Sunday. I also received a call from WCMH's Jerod Smalley the day after I met with Harden. I expect to hear from Smalley again within the next couple days, so keep an eye on channel 4 if you live in Columbus.

I am fortunate to have met tons and tons of the most amazing people you could ever hope to meet, but that's a very small sample of the American people. I'm sorry to report that when I'm not meeting these people, I witness one stupid act after another. We, the people of the United States of America, must stop being so stupid.

I hope you can make some sense of the recent posts here, now that I've clued you in a little. I haven't tried blogging from my phone yet since I've changed the blog's URL. Hopefully it will work. Even if it does work, though, I don't anticipate writing many new posts as I walk the final 600 miles from here to NYC. But who knows?

So much more to say, but I can only say so much right now. Besides, I'm here to relax so I can feel rejuvinated when I start walking again on Friday.

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Test #2

This better work. I don't have time to deal with this crap not doing what it's supposed to do.

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Failure to provide ID

The following is taken from a forum in which regular people and cops discuss the specifics of certain laws.

If they have NOT committed an offense, and I ask for their ID and they tell me to **** off, I have no lawful right to demand their ID. I have had several people ask me why, and I just simply state that you see my name on my chest and I like to know who i'm talking to. They're usually pretty good about giving it up. It's all in talking to them with respect and dignity.

Now on the flipside, if they have committed an offense and I ask for their ID and they do not provide it to me, well then they're getting cited for failure to provide ID. If they do not have it on them they're getting hooked, and taken to the PD to be fingerprinted and ID'd.

Walking peacefully down the road, which is all I do every day, does not give any law enforcement officer justification to stop me and demand to see my ID. If that happens, I have the right to walk away and go on with my life. Even if I tell the dude to go fuck himself, I still have the right to continue walking toward the Atlantic Ocean if I so desire, and the cop has no right to demand any more of my time unless I have actually broken a law.

In my Indiana brush with the law, I did not tell the deputy to go fuck himself. I just told him, calmly, to leave me alone, which I am allowed to do. Regardless, I was effectively beaten up by the cop (who I will name when this is all over). Then I spent three nights in jail for having been the victim of a crime by someone who's paid to protect me. And now I have to show up back in Indiana next month for court.

Yes, I would do it again, and I will do it again the next time a cop stops and asks me for my ID without justification. This will almost surely happen within the next week. But I almost certainly will not end up in jail when I do it again because most cops know their limits. And to be perfectly clear, the cop who arrested me knew his limits; he just didn't care and he mistakenly assumed I was stupid, which is why he wrote a report that is full of lies that don't add up.

Cops know they have more rules to follow than I do.

Still, cops are the only people who give me any trouble. Cops are the only criminals I have to fear out there. There are tons of good cops, but there are also tons of thug cops. And until that changes, I will continue to assert my freedom whenever they try to strip me of it.

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Lasting impressions

Here's an e-mail I received a while back but was finally able to read today. It's from a lady cyclist I met in eastern Kansas. (I'm in Ohio now; walked all the way. I'll soon explain why there haven't been any new blog posts in four months.) I was kinda expecting a link to a painting with trees wrapped in barbed wire, but I was shocked and blown away when I learned that I'd inspired my own painting.

i met you on the road just outside of Yates Center Kansas. I on bike, you, of course ..... not. You were looking forward to getting new sandals, I hope they came.

I cycle tour solo every summer because it gives me life experience to feed my art and my soul. I make paintings along the way.

I told you I was going to make a painting about Kansas "hogging" its shade trees behind barbed wire fences. I made that painting, and I made one inspired by our visit as well. I made the painting not to glorify what you - we - do. Solo endurance and living our lives in a way most consider unusual. I made the painting because I was pissed that a man walking should be considered a criminal by those we are told to trust as our caretakers - police.

Not their fault really. It is an entire culture built on fear. You are different, there for something to fear.

see the paintings at

www.tmoore2.com/

teri
ps - I didn't think you were scary at all. I thought of you the same as the Kansas wildflowers that surrounded you.

On the back of the painting, Teri also wrote some notes about our meeting.

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Test #1

Test. Let's see if this makes it to Facebook.

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Walking coast to coast, Rule #1

For anyone thinking about doing a continuous coast-to-coast walk/hike someday, here is the most valuable tip I can give you: Take only what you absolutely need.

You'll be tempted to take a few shirts, a camp towel, a laptop, maybe a book, and a bunch of tiny things that don't seem like much weight. DON'T DO IT. Instead, learn from my pain.

I'm probably much stronger than I was when I walked away from the Santa Monica Pier, but my body is totally beat up and everything hurts constantly, largely because I was carrying too much weight when I started. I thought I'd be a machine after a month or two, but that does not happen. Instead, the weight just goes down to your feet with every step, and it beats you up like you've never been beat up before.

After a few months, every day becomes tougher than the previous day. 50 lbs now feels like 70 lbs; tomorrow it will feel like 70.1 lbs. And it's all because I started out with too much weight. So just be smart and learn from my experience. It will make your long walk much less painful than it could be.

Shirts. I'm down to one short sleeve shirt and one long sleeve shirt, though I started with three lightweight short sleeve shirts and one long sleeve shirt. My shirt probably makes me smell like dog shit most of the time, but I don't care anymore because 1) I am almost always alone, and 2) There comes a point where you just stop caring. There is no need to worry about being a little smelly because that kind of thing happens when you're doing the most bad-ass thing anyone can do. Get over it and leave your shirts at home.

Socks & Footwear. Even though I walk in sandals, I had one pair of socks in the beginning, just in case I needed to get some shoes for whatever reason. And it did happen. I had to wear shoes for about 10 miles at Wolf Creek Pass in Colorado, at 10,850 feet. I paid $1.50 for the shoes at a thrift store, then ditched them in Walsenburg because I knew I'd never need them again. If I was walking in boots, I'd probably have to carry 4-6 pairs of footies, at 5 ounces per pair. Great reason to wear sandals. Also, my sandals are 2 lbs lighter than my last pair of boots. That makes a huge difference.

Essential Items
Backpack with at least an 80-liter capacity;
Sleeping bag rated below freezing;
Good, light tent and footprint;
Sleeping pad (I prefer inflatable, small);
Fleece top with full zipper;
Down or synthetic winter coat (doubles as a pillow in a stuff sack, though you'll send it home once spring is over);
Thin/light raincoat;
Rain pants;
Waterproof pack cover (if your pack is not waterproof);
One pair of convertible pants + shorts to wear during laundry;
A one-liter water bottle & collapsible water bladders amounting to about a 3-gallon capacity;
Maybe a few other things, too. (For some folks, weed.)

That's all for now. Much more to say about this stuff when I get a chance. Maybe I'll write about it in a book someday.

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Goodbye?

Blog posts from my phone have not been publishing lately, so here's the deal: I probably will not be blogging anymore, mostly because Blogger has decided to make everything difficult/impossible for people who use their "service" to publish blogs on FTP servers or something like that. Long story; I'm not going to try to explain everything because I don't have time and I don't fully understand what's going on.

I've been in Cortez, Colorado for a few days, staying with some folks I met (Jake Heath and Kayla McGrath). Very good people; they feel like friends to me.

I have so much to say, but there are not enough people who care what I have to say. It's been great, but I'm pretty much done blogging. Enjoy the silence.

Goodbye?

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Let's try this again

After two tries, I don't think that video ever published, so I'll try once more. It should be here this time. I probably won't be blogging anymore after a few days because I won't be able to, thanks to Blogger screwing with everything. Been in Cortez, Colorado for a few days, staying with some very cool folks I met. Too much to say and not enough people who care what I have to say. So it's been great. I may crank out a few more posts while I still can, but I may not. Enjoy the silence.

The Navajo are the kindest,

The Navajo are the kindest, most amazing group of people I've ever met, particularly the Oliver family of Mexican Hat. Much more to say soon.

Changes

Stupid Blogger is about to make it impossible to host Blogger blogs on FTP servers (or something like that), so now I have to go through a whole bunch of BS to keep this blog alive. I probably won't have an opportunity to make the changes, so this blog may disappear soon. However, if I am able to make the changes, the new URL for this blog will probably be http://www.aimlessmovie.blogspot.com. I don't know when it'll change, so just try to remember this.

I may stop blogging anyway, though, because no one gives a shit about what I have to say. Hardly anyone ever comments and only two people have become fans on Facebook during the last seven weeks. I'm surprised and disappointed, and I'm not going to waste my time anymore to entertain five people.

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It's a miracle! Jesus came

It's a miracle! Jesus came to me last night and healed my mangled leg. I know it sounds impossible, but it's true. I can walk again!

Aw fuck. I'm pretty sure

Aw fuck. I'm pretty sure I just broke my leg. Can't walk. Waiting for the ambulance now. Looks like this is all over. God dammit!

Jerome

I suspect Jerome is heaven. It's such an amazing place, even when you're there and gone in the blink of an eye. No picture can do it justice, either. --> This morning, as I made my way out of Jerome, an old lady said something to me from across the street. Walking over to her yard to respond, we ended up talking for maybe 15 minutes. She was so cool, with a cynically filthy mouth not unlike my own. The language seemed so out of place for a woman of her age; it was great. Figuring she was about 70, I was shocked when she told me she's 90. I never did get her name, but she said she used to be an actress; apparently a pretty well-known (or famous?) actress. Man, I need to remember to take pics of people like her. --> Half an hour later, I encountered a cyclist/traveler on his way up into town. His name is James Johnson and he is riding from Chicago to San Diego to Portland and then back to
Chicago. We talked for about an hour. http://crazyguyonabike.com/doc/turtleadventure2010.

Snow foot

Presto

See, it wasn't just smoke and mirrors. This is from yesterday (Tuesday), shortly after I began the descent to Jerome. I topped out at 7,023 feet, only a few minutes after I estimated that I was at about 7,000 feet.

No longer riding

I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round.

Spooky

From left: Sonya, me, Tobin, and Jennifer (the waitresses and bartender at the Haunted Hamburger). I probably misspelled everyone's name there, but these folks rock. I pulled into Jerome a little before 8:00 last night, completely exhausted and wobbly, just hoping there was someplace open to eat. The first place I found was the Haunted Hamburger, and it was the right place. Along with the restaurant's staff, I also talked extensively with a couple from Phoenix, who were sitting a few seats over from me at the bar. These people were all so cool. I really enjoyed talking to all of them. If you're ever in Jerome, you have to eat there. Not just because they're cool as hell, but also because they serve some damn good food. --> Today, near Clarkdale, a stunningly gorgeous girl stopped to offer me a ride. As with everyone who offers me a ride, I had to decline, but I really wanted to accept
this offer. We talked for a few minutes, then I thanked her and we each headed on down the road. D'OH!

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Higher and higher

Yes, I am WAAAY above the snow line right now... in sandals. The most recent elevation sign said I was at 6,000 feet, but I've climbed a long way since then, so I'm guessing I'm probably at about 7,000 feet in this pic. Still going up, too.

See ya down in Arizona Bay

These mountains are bigger than they look here. I have to go up and over them today, then make it back down before it gets too cold up there. (And it will get very cold once the sun goes down.) On the other side is Jerome. Everyone says Jerome is absolutely beautiful. One local resident also told me Maynard from Tool lives there, which makes sense because he thinks California is going to fall off into the ocean. (He really should have taken Geology 101 before writing those ridiculous lyrics.) --> The 'tears' remark in the previous post was in reference to a show I watched Sunday night called Undercover Boss or something. I sure hope they didn't just edit that show to make the CEO look more caring than he really is. Believe me: When you have as much footage as they had before they edited that show, you can manipulate the story to make it say anything you want it to say. However, I felt
like everything that happened on the show was pretty genuine. I hope so.

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I like when people move

I like when people move me to tears.

Idiocracy

If you can't figure out what's wrong with this country by reading this flier, please don't have kids.

Prescott

Yesterday I began near Wilhoit and climbed at least half a mile through some mountains, reaching about 6300 feet before descending 1000 feet to Prescott. At 5:00, after busting ass for 19+ miles, I found a restaurant where I could watch the Buckeyes lose. A few miles up the road, still in Prescott, I ate at In-N-Out and slept in the cold mile-high night. Today I decided I'd finally take a day off, so I did some fund-raising and walked down to a cheap motel I passed last night. I paid $34 for a dump of a room, but I kinda like it. The motel is really old and I can picture William Burroughs sitting here on the bed with a needle in his arm, his eyes struggling to stay open and his body slumping over as he drifts off into junkie bliss. I think I'll make a weekend of it and stay here again tomorrow night because my body really needs the rest. At this altitude, I think I have a lot of cold
nights ahead of me. It's probably good that I didn't start 2 weeks earlier, as I'd originally planned.

Altitude

As you can see, I'm really high right now.

I just ran into George Throop again, about six miles southeast(?) of Wickenburg. He's going toward Phoenix, while I'm going the other way. Total surprise to see him because we have not communicated at all since we met on February 14, and because I thought he was going to stick near I-10, which is 40 or 50 miles south of here. He ended up walking along US 60, though, which is the road I'm on right now. Crazy.

Chair

Sometimes you just have to take your next break a little bit ahead of schedule.

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Goodbye Phoenix

Someone please tell me what a "Family Car Wash" is. --> Now that I'm out of metro Phoenix, I'm shocked to say I'll miss that town a little. Having met a lot of good/cool people there, my opinion of Phoenix has changed dramatically. Wish I'd heard from Eric, though. --> I'm currently somewhere between Surprise and Wickenburg. I'll likely head through Prescott, Sedona, and Flagstaff on my way to the Grand Canyon, which I should reach in maybe ten days or so. --> I figured I'd be a machine by now, but I'm not. I still hurt all the time, and it's still tough to do 20 miles a day. (I'm averaging closer to 19 now. Of course, I've probably walked considerably more miles than my pedometer shows because my pedometer sucks. In fact, every pedometer sucks. I really wish someone would make a pedometer that doesn't suck.) I guess I've just pushed myself so hard, my body hasn't had a chance to
recover and strengthen. The mostly Ramen/oatmeal diet surely hasn't helped much, either. I need a break!

Sports

After a pretty rough day, some girls from a high school lacrosse team just made my night at In-N-Out Burger in Paradise Valley. As I was getting up to leave, one of them asked me what I was doing with the backpack. I ended up talking to them and answering questions for the next 15 or 30 minutes. When one of them asked me how I get money, I showed them my signs. As a result, I ended up with a handful of bills and change, which I have not counted yet. These girls and their guy friends really made me feel special and important, and that's a nice feeling. Thanks, ladies. This encounter was a very cool and memorable experience for me. (I already forgot the name of their school. Maybe one of them will see this and mention the school's name in a comment.)

REI just lost one of

REI just lost one of its best and most loyal customers.

OK, I got my license

OK, I got my license back. Echeverry is actually the one who treated me respectfully, so I'll edit that other post when I get a chance.

Pic: The coolest town in Arizona. O-H... --> The people of west suburban Phoenix have been very friendly so far, stopping to offer rides and stuff. It's going to take a lot more gestures of kindness to make up for some of the bullshit I've dealt with, though. --> Eric, if you're going to call, you need to call NOW because I'm in Goodyear. If you've e-mailed me or anything like that, I haven't seen it because I don't have internet access. I hope to hear from you.

Fire

Here's that fire.

Arizona is for losers

This cactus and I feel the same about Arizona. --> Two nights ago, after walking 20 miles out of Gila Bend (through absolutely desolate desert), I found a great spot to sleep. I set up my tent and whatnot, but I also started my very first campfire. I thought I was in a good, invisible setting, but shortly a couple Maricopa County Sheriff's deputies showed up. One was mostly all right (Deputy Echeverry, or something like that), but the other one was an abusive prick. Long story short: They forced me to pack up and ride with them 20 miles back to Gila Bend. Then, and I didn't realize this until they were gone, Fuckface kept/stole my drivers' license. This was no accident. The guy has the personality of a serial killer, and keeping his victims' possessions gives him a hard-on. It's that simple. So when I get to the station tomorrow, I'm going to file a complaint (and a
theft charge if my license isn't there waiting for me). He's probably jerking off to it right now.

Sign Interpretation 101

This means you have to drive like a fucking retard for the next 9 miles.

Gila Bend, AZ. No, I haven't seen a Shaqtus yet.

UFO over Phoenix?

Anyone remember the shows about the "UFO over Phoenix" maybe ten years ago? Even though the show's producers tried to present the lights as something really mysterious by ignoring the real evidence and instead focusing on the interpretations of crackpots, I was pretty satisfied with the explanation (and evidence) that said the lights were flares. Now having seen them for myself, I can tell you the lights in these pictures are most certainly flares. Yeah, I was in awe when I first saw them, but after a while it was pretty clear what was going on. You probably can't tell from the picture, but these things are VERY bright. They're so bright, you can sometimes see the trail of smoke above each flare as it slowly falls toward Earth. Oh, and the fighter jets... This was about 100 miles SW of Phoenix on an Air Force range near Mexico. --> I should be in Phoenix's west suburbs tomorrow night.
So Eric, call me very soon if you intend to meet up with me. --> Does March Madness start this week?

Cattle guards

These things scare the shit out of me, especially when my pack is heavy. (It's almost always heavy.) When you're carrying a lot of weight, your steps rarely hit their target. As you can see, there's not much room for error on these things. So every time I set a foot down on one of them, there's a chance I might break a leg or something. And yes, I've had to walk over a lot of these lately, even though I haven't seen a cow in days.

Booty

Nature provides. --> Thanks, Aunt Lisa and Uncle Paul. I sincerely appreciate your help. --> Phoenix ETA: Sunday.

Vulnerable

Apparently no one is willing to help me get any of the things I desperately need right now, like new footwear, a good headlamp, and a reflective vest. That's OK, though. It just lets me know I really am alone out here. Not having these things might get me seriously injured or killed, but at least I know where we all stand.

Did you know Yuma is

Did you know Yuma is actually supposed to be pronounced 'Yummay'?

18 days and 362.5 miles

18 days and 362.5 miles from the Santa Monica Pier to the Arizona state line above the Colorado River in Yuma.

Today: A day of rest and fundraising in Yuma

Waking up 22 miles from the Arizona state line yesterday, I knew I had to bust ass and take very few breaks to make it to the sign before darkness (to get a visible pic). So wouldn't it figure that some CHP asshole had to stop me not once but twice to hassle me and tell me I'm not allowed to walk along the ONLY FUCKING ROAD. Instead, I was supposed to walk over giant sand dunes and wide irrigation canals with no bridges. Essentially this dude negated all my break time by making me stand around and listen to him with my pack on. You probably haven't thought about this, but every minute I stand around carrying my pack is a minute I'm neither resting nor moving. It adds up quick, as do the extra miles. So I ended up having to walk 23 or 24 miles, with almost no rest, to make it to the state line in time for a pic. (If you haven't done this, you don't know what pain is.) Much more to it
than that. --> Thanks to whoever contacted John Sears for me. --> Need your help getting some gear...

If I don't get a

If I don't get a really good headlamp, I'm gonna end up seriously injured. If you'd like to help, call me so I can let you know how. Thanks.

Yuma

So much to say... later.

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Dunes

If I don't get a

If I don't get a really good headlamp, I'm gonna end up seriously injured. If you'd like to help, call me so I can let you know how. Thanks.

27 miles today; 72 the

27 miles today; 72 the last 3 days; 300 the last 15 days. South of El Centro. Finally averaging 20 miles/day. Yes, I hurt like hell all the time.

If I don't get a

If I don't get a really good headlamp, I'm gonna end up seriously injured. If you'd like to help, call me so I can let you know how. Thanks.

Some dude on a bike

Some dude on a bike just told me God loves me. Is that why my ass hurts?

Evil desert

Pic: Chaco feet. Jealous, huh, winter-bound, pale-ass Ohio honkeys? --> My god, yesterday was a bitch. Rain. Sun. Rain. Wind. Wind. Wind. I got off to a great start, with 10 miles before noon, but the weather took its toll, along with the absence of anywhere comfortable to sit. The wind kept me from cooking. I wasted an hour of energy just trying to set up my tent as a windshield... unsuccessfully. In fact, I almost lost the tent a few times. Bent the poles a little more, too. So much more hellish than I can describe here. Was shooting for 30 miles yesterday, and I could've done it with semi-decent weather. Instead I stopped at 8:00 beside a huge stack of hay, which shielded me from the wind and saved me from even more misery. Still did 22.5 miles, though. Slept about a mile short of Westmorland. --> Would someone please contact John Sears at Gregory Mountain Products and ask him to
call me? I have feedback and questions for him, but I don't have his number handy. Thanks!

So I walk into a

So I walk into a truck stop after a smokin' 20 miles, and what's on the TV but Forrest Gump. Ever feel like everything is as it should be?

Desert

I think this means I'll be in the middle of nowhere in a few minutes. It also means I'll be in Arizona in about five days. --> Brad, will you make sure Eric Eves sees this? If you can, also let him know I'll be in Phoenix in two weeks or less and that he should call me. Thanks.

Coachella. Left takes me east

Coachella. Left takes me east of the Salton Sea; right goes west. I'm going right. Lots of water and ramen noodles makes for one heavy-ass pack.

Sbarro's prices have gone up

Sbarro's prices have gone up while their pizza has shrunk by at least 2". You were already overpriced, Sbarro. Guess where I'll NEVER eat again.

Palm Springs to pedestrians: If

Palm Springs to pedestrians: If you want to be able to see where you're walking or if you want a sidewalk, fuck you! Go buy a car.

Machine/badass

Last Thursday, after walking for hours without a break, I realized I'm about 82% machine. Later, though, when I weighed my gear on a scale at REI, I became aware that I'm 100% badass. Thinking I was carrying a little over 40 lbs at the time, I was actually carrying 51.5 lbs. But that doesn't make me a badass. Here's what makes me a badass: For the first couple days of this new adventure, I was carrying an additional 2+ gallons of water. That's 17 or 18 lbs right there, and it means my gear weighed 68 or 69 lbs when my water bladders were full. That's HALF AS MUCH AS I WEIGH, and that number's gonna go up in a few days when I'll need to stock up on water and food to make it across the desert. But here's what really makes me a badass: I don't fear the desert. This'll be easy. --> I have always raved about REI, but they've really pissed me off lately because they won't remove my Gregory
review, which I've asked them to remove twice. So now I'm gonna trade in my beat-up tent for a new one.

Desert Shadow

VERY IMPORTANT! If I should

VERY IMPORTANT! If I should ever be hit by a car and cannot speak for myself, I want the perp to be prosecuted very aggressively. 2 B continued..

If you've never walked by

If you've never walked by an orange grove, picked an orange without asking, and eaten the orange, then you've never eaten an orange. Delicious!

Jim & I are Avatards.

Jim & I are Avatards. We saw it again yesterday in Redlands; ate at Shakey's. He's on buses back to LA now, so I'm gonna try to do 25 miles/day.

Thanks to the Rose Bowl's

Thanks to the Rose Bowl's entertainment committee, the dream police now live inside my head. They also come to me in my bed. Every single night.

I dare sleep in Fuck

I dare sleep in Fuck Fontana tonight. 22.34 miles today; 93.8 miles the last 5 days. Head still hurts. If I'm never seen again, the cops did it.

I just bought 'Into the

I just bought 'Into the Wild,' even though I didn't really have the money. I just turned my head and there it was. Figured it musta been a sign.

A really cool guy just

A really cool guy just stopped and talked to me in Claremont. His name is John Bobo and he played football at Tennessee in like 1953.

SAN DIMAS HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL

SAN DIMAS HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL RULES!!!

Ow, my head!

Here's a pic I took of my head Monday morning, about 16 hours after I slammed it on a tree root. As I hit the ground, I thought something to the effect of "Oh fuck! I might die now." No bullshit. Fortunately it ended up much less serious than death. Regardless, it was a very scary moment. --> I crossed paths with George Throop a few hours after my spill Sunday. Lots to say about him, but it's gonna have to wait until I make it to a computer. --> Monday night, as I ordered my usual at In-N-Out Burger in Hollywood, I received a call from an unfamiliar number. It was Jim, the guy I hung out with in early January! We met up last night, and he's gonna pop up again here and there. --> This morning I woke up at the intersection where the Rose Parade turns (Orange Grove & Colorado). The manager at Ralph's on Colorado in Pasadena is the biggest cockwad on the planet. I masterfully boosted his
blood pressure today; no regrets. Tonight I'm in Glendora. My head seems to have felt better today.

I just did 4 takes

I just did 4 takes with some guys who are making [goofy?] short films: http://lvxmedia.com & http://youtube.com/lvxmediatv.

Oops, I got the name

Oops, I got the name of that pizzeria wrong. It's Robano's, not Poblano's, and it's at 10057 Riverside Dr. in Burbank. (It's dead at lunchtime.)

NBC-Universal

Hey retards: Look down, I'm right outside your building. Now watch that money go walking away.

A tale of two oceans

Ocean #1: Pacific... Yesterday marked the beginning of my coast-to-coast walk. It started slow, with a couple bus rides to the Santa Monica Pier, then a stop at REI for a 4-liter water bladder. (An unexpectedly disappointing REI experience, I might add.) Several miles up the road (on Sunset), now carrying over 60 lbs, this new journey nearly ended as quick as it began when I tripped and hit my head REALLY hard on a very thick tree root. Scariest moment in all my travels. (When you fall with an additional 40% of your own weight on your back, you don't catch yourself. You're just dead weight, and you hit the ground like a cannonball.) After the fall, my face was bleeding, and I think I had a mild concussion. I also may have a somewhat serious neck/throat/jaw injury. Having witnessed my fall, a man and his daughter (Mark & Cara Friedman) pulled over to offer help. Even though I seem to be
OK, I hope they know how much I appreciate their concern. That gesture really meant a lot to me.

The Hollywood sign is covered

The Hollywood sign is covered by letters that read "SAVE PEAK." Can't get a pic because I'm on a bus on Santa Monica Blvd. Almost time to walk.

No regrets

Yesterday was one of the most amazing days of my life, but not because lots of strangers gave me money to have a great night out. Yesterday was amazing because of what I learned. You probably won't understand this, but I gave so much to the people who gave to me. I gave them real; I gave them truth; I gave them one of the rare 'no bullshit' moments of their lives. And they loved it. They took pictures of it, too. A guy I met at the theater was even about to write me a check after I showed him a pic of my sign, until I said he didn't need to. --> I learned that I don't want a TV show for myself; I truly want a TV show for you. My ego doesn't need the attention. If it did, I'd be walking around with a sign saying "Look at me and what I do. I'm so special and great." But I don't. I can't tell you everything I learned last night, and I don't need to try anymore because all is good. If I die
today, I'll die knowing I truly lived, unlike most people. Like the Irishman said: No regrets.

WOW!!! I lead the most

WOW!!! I lead the most amazing life. Even when it sucks--even when I get bitchy--my life is absolutely incredible. Wish I could let you see.

Damn I'm good

It started slow, but this sign earned me $6.81 in coins, as well as eleven singles, in the span of not quite an hour. Then came the 20, which brought my one-hour Avatar fund-raising total to $37.81. That means I'm gonna have some popcorn and maybe a Dr. Pepper tonight as I enjoy Avatar. Oh yeah, and I was also given some pudding, peaches, a can of "young coconut juice," a piece of cake, and a bottle of water. Someone gave me the cake and water as I walked down Colorado Boulevard in Pasadena, carrying the sign but not displaying it. The rest of it came to me at Corson Street & Allen Avenue. --> On my way to see Avatar...

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NBC does it again

I read in the LA Times yesterday that NBC overpaid something like 250 gazillion dollars for the rights to broadcast the Olympics. Seems like every time I look at a newspaper, it tells me how yet another ass-brained decision cost NBC millions upon millions of dollars. --> Does NBC do anything right anymore? I can think of one thing they did right a year ago: They called me and said they thought I might be a "really great character" for a doc series they're developing. And they were right. But, as one might expect from a bunch of retards who blow a million dollars with every breath, they left me hanging and never called me back. --> I expect everyone who reads this to write to NBC and tell them they should make a series out of Aimless. And you might as well include a link to this post. If you don't do it, then you can blame yourself for having 8,000 channels of nothing good to watch.
That's all I have to say about that (until NBC's next fiasco).

Daily bread

This is probably the most interesting donation I've ever received while flying a sign. (The 18" baguette, not the apple.) Standing on a concrete median beside the left-turn lane at an intersection (rather than an off-ramp, because some loser asshole bum was "working" the ramp), I received the baguette from someone driving the same direction I was facing, which is unusual. I'm guessing the donor must have already passed me from the other direction. Supposing he did, it means he probably put a good bit of thought into his gift idea. Hmmm... Hey, I'm not bitching; I'll eat the baguette, and I sincerely appreciate even the tiniest donations because no one owes me jack. I'm just saying it was a strange gift. --> The Avatar sign I mentioned last night may have to wait a while because I haven't found any cardboard yet. (Cardboard is a very precious mineral here in southern California.) Having
devoted a little more thought since last night, I'm now leaning toward writing 'DYING TO SEE AVATAR.'

Tomorrow in Pasadena I'm gonna

Tomorrow in Pasadena I'm gonna fly a sign that says 'MUST SEE AVATAR.' I'll let you know if it works (as I walk to the theater).

Couch surfing

After hearing about couchsurfing.org from several people over the last year or so, I finally checked it out. According to the web site, couchsurfing.com is a free service, although they encourage you to make donations. The site's rhetoric goes on to make quite a big deal about the virtues of sharing. However, before you can use the site, you have to make a $25 minimum donation.

I have $6.

But that's not my point. My point is that the word 'donation' has a meaning, and implicit in that meaning is the concept of 'optional.' When a donation is required, it's called a 'fee' or a 'price' or one of a few other terms.

I really don't like dishonesty. Although couchsurfing.org claims to be a non-profit public service, somebody's making money off of it--probably good money--which is fine, as long as they're honest about it. But they're not honest about it.

I know of another web site that has never generated a penny of revenue but is still able to operate and give something new every once in a while, thanks largely to one true donation, in the form of web hosting, from Net Acceleration. I'm pretty sure the creator of said web site would appreciate donations and a little more general support from the site's visitors, yet all support remains (and will remain) optional.

Couchsurfing.org, you disappoint me.

Time to go back to California.

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Vegas

Just relaxing alone at Josh Ellis's apartment in Vegas, near UNLV.

Oh, who am I kidding? Actually I'm cleaning Josh's filthy, disgusting bathroom. (I've already cleaned up the kitchen.) His girlfriend will love me forever because the bathroom, along with the rest of the place, is like grody to the max. (I'll upload a pic soon.)

I've known Josh for about ten years; met him when I lived here.

It's cold and rainy outside, like it always is when I show up in Vegas. Go figure. So it's nice to have a warm place to hang out and relax. Aside from the less-than-clean conditions, I've got a real good set-up here. It's almost like it's my own place because Josh has been with his girlfriend most of the time since I've been here. But usually when I come to Vegas, it's mainly to see Josh, although this time I also came to see someone from high school who lives here now.

I was planning to head back to California either today or Monday, but the rain has made that decision easy for me. It's supposed to keep raining tomorrow, too, but I wasn't planning to leave tomorrow anyway because ya gotta watch the Super Bowl, even if you're not a fan of either team.

When I get back to LA, I want to try to hang out with Brian as much as possible, as well as GloZell, if she ever calls me. Then on about Valentine's Day, I'm going to start my walk, probably with George Throop, as he should be passing through LA at about that time.

A million interesting things to say right now, but not enough time to share even a fraction of it, as always. Like I've said so many times before, it's too bad this is not a TV show; you don't know what you're missing. But whenever I try to tell you everything, all it does is stress me out and make me crazy. And you know what? I've stayed pretty damn sane this time out and I've had a great time even when I should have been miserable. I've finally found a winning formula, and part of that formula is less blogging.

If you want to know about the things I'm not sharing here, then help me get a TV show. I can't do it all by myself.

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Except...

Just before I sent the previous post, as I began retracing my steps east along the Sunset Strip, I saw a familiar face. Not a famous face or anything like that. It was a face I hadn't seen in 9 years; a face I was sure I'd never see again. The face was that of Brian Manning, an eccentric guitar genius who became my very close friend the last year I lived in Vegas. Out to see a band with a lady friend, Brian could only talk for about 5 minutes, but he gave me his number and we talked for a while today. --> I cannot accurately tell this story in 1,000 characters, but when I met him, Brian was an ex-junkie, clean for two years. Months later he relapsed. When I left Vegas, he was still struggling with his heroin/methadone demon. A few years later, I heard he had moved to Long Beach and was still battling that demon. Having often worried about him and even wondered if he was still alive, you
can't possibly understand how good it was to see him. And best of all, he's off the junk!

I love LA, but the

I love LA, but the Sunset Strip on a Saturday night is quite possibly--nay, most certainly--the fakest, lamest place I've ever been. Except...

I'll give you $100 if...

Today I walked by an Italian restaurant/pizzeria on Riverside Dr. (or Alameda?) in Toluca Lake (Burbank) that was once featured on an episode of Kitchen Nightmares. I think it's called Poblano's now, though it had a different name when the show aired. (The name change surely came with the new ownership, probably because the previous place had a bad reputation). I suspect Poblano's is struggling nearly as much as the previous place, partly because people who buy worthless restaurants usually don't know what they're getting into. Anyway, supposing it is struggling, I want to turn the place around because I'm THE person who can do it. But before I can do it, I need your help. I will send $100 to the first person who can convince the owner to call me, based on my guarantee that I can help them turn the place into a very profitable business, so long as I am given the freedom to change some
things in order to offer the best pizza and service available ANYWHERE. Call me if you're interested.

Return to Cambria

Lots to say, but not really any time to say it right now. I stayed a few days with my aunt and uncle in Sacramento. Aunt Carolyn put me on a train to San Francisco, where I hung out for a couple days. In San Francisco I was finally able to meet Glenn Shope of Net Acceleration, who has set me up with web hosting for the last three and a half years. Very cool guy, as are the rest of the people in his office.

At a coffee house in SF, some guy told me about George Throop, who is walking from Washington to LA to Florida to DC. After seeing George's web site for a minute, I sent George a short e-mail from my phone, saying I'd like to try to meet up with him sometime, since the two of us are in the same vicinity.

The weather has been miserable for most of the last ten days all over California, but it was especially crappy in SF, so I didn't stick around. Instead, I took a train to Gilroy, where I lost my phone one night but got it back the next day. After getting a ride to Paso Robles, I walked to Cambria and then another five or six miles beyond Cambria to the San Simeon Creek Ranch, better known to me as Jon ("Yon") and Lindy's place (see Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, & pic from September 2008).

(Dangit, I lost some stuff I'd already written. That ticks me off.)

This ranch is a really special place to me, as you may have figured out if you've read the previous posts from 2008. First of all, Jon and Lindy are amazing people. Also, there is just something really beautiful and peaceful about this place. Unfortunately, Jon's mother died last night, which makes this sort of an awkward time to be around. She was 93.

Lindy is going to take me to San Luis Obispo tomorrow, where I will probably take a train back to LA. It looks like an incredible train ride along the coast.

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Through Sacramento

After leaving the Gregory headquarters last Thursday, I walked a few miles to an REI store just outside downtown Sacramento. Sleeping near the store that night, I went back the next day to look around and to talk to Christa, an REI employee I'd met the previous night.

While looking around inside the store, I turned my head and noticed a familiar face. My first thought was that I recognized the face as someone who had been working at REI the previous night, but I quickly realized it was someone from Gregory. A moment later, a whole flock of Gregory's design team stood within a few feet of me. At this moment, I happened to be holding an Osprey backpack, checking it out to learn more about the differences between the various backpack brands.

What perfect timing. I felt like such a dick at that moment, after all they had done for me the previous day. It's not as if I was looking to buy the Osprey, though, and I think they knew that. But I still felt like a dick. It was definitely a Three's Company type of moment.

Shortly after that awkward moment, Wayne Gregory came over and introduced himself to me. To my surprise, he knew quite a bit about me and Aimless. He subsequently told me a story about a guy he met a few years ago. Driving around San Diego, Wayne spotted a guy with a backpack walking down the street. Noticing the backpack was an early Gregory model, which Wayne himself had made by hand, he stopped to talk to the guy.

The guy with the backpack, Art Brown, told Wayne he was about to walk from San Diego to Washington, DC. Wayne seemed pretty intrigued by Art and his lifestyle, and he quickly gave me Art's phone number. I guess he kind of saw Art and I as unique but similar kinds of people. It was a very cool story, and now I need to google "Art Brown" because I'm pretty sure there is stuff to find about him, like a blog.

That night (Friday) at about 9:00, as I walked the American River Parkway (a bike path), about ten miles up the road, I needed to get something to eat. So I left the trail at a rare exit point by a park near Cordova High School. Soon I encountered a young guy shooting a basketball alone. As I passed by the basketball court, he initiated a conversation with me and I asked him if he knew where I could find some fast food joints.

As the young dude began walking with me toward his home, I quickly figured out he was about 16. He seemed very interested in finding out a little bit about my story, and he also enjoyed talking about NBA basketball. Detecting a barely noticeable hint of a foreign accent, I asked him where he was from. He said he was born in Ukraine and moved here when he was about 4.

A very friendly, smart, and nice-looking young man, I had to wonder why he was all alone on a Friday night, but I never asked. After walking for 10 or 15 minutes, we reached a KFC, where I ended up having dinner. Before I entered the KFC, I thanked him for helping me find my way there. As I walked inside, he turned and continued toward home.

There was something about this kid that has me feeling weird. I just kind of feel like he looked up to me as a role model, even though he knew almost nothing about me. I feel like maybe I should have told him about this web site or given him my phone number in case he ever needed someone to talk to. I feel like I had a chance to make a positive impact on someone who may have needed a big brother figure in his life, but I failed. It's really bugging me--I mean it's REALLY bugging me--and I sure hope that kid is doing all right.

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Channel 6 video

All right, here's the video of me on channel six from the Rose Bowl. I approve. The Gregory folks might like this one, too.

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Gregory Mountain Products

I hate posing for pictures. I always end up looking like a total dillhole. (The flab will be gone soon, but I should probably make an effort to start doing push-ups on a regular basis.) On the left is John Sears, Director of R&D for Gregory Mountain Products. On the right is Nick Kelso, Sample Maker, who performed some very important repairs on my pack today at Gregory's headquarters in Sacramento. The people at Gregory are awesome. I was there for five hours, talking pretty extensively to almost everyone in the building. Nick nearly re-engineered my pack, replacing several key parts that were worn out, broken, or dirty. They also fed me, an act that always wins major points with me. But mostly it was just cool meeting them and seeing a little bit of their operation. It's clear that they spend a lot of time working to make their products the best they can be, largely by listening to
feedback from people like me. Most American companies could learn something from the folks at Gregory.

If anyone knows where to

If anyone knows where to find the channel 6 web page with my recent interview, please copy and paste the full URL in a comment to this post. Thx.

Jeff Norris, I need you

Jeff Norris, I need you to call me. I'm not sure if I have your current number.

Jim and DUH

OK, here's Jim at Carl's Jr. So much to say about my adventures with Jim, but no time to say it. --> I read in the LA Times this morning that it's now pretty clear that NBC fucked up big-time when they axed Leno from the Tonight Show and rearranged the late night lineup. Duh! Who couldn't have seen that coming? It kinda makes ya wonder what kind of idiots are running the show over there, doesn't it? Yeah, well I guess it also helps explain why I haven't heard from NBC, months after they contacted me, having seen at least one of my videos on YouTube. And I'll tell you what: The videos and stories I've been able to share with you are a mere fraction of the great stories I've lived and the compelling characters I've met. This stuff needs to be seen by the American people. My Aimless adventure needs to be a TV show. It's the best show there's ever been, but you're all missing it. So I'm
asking you to write to the networks and even MTV. Tell them why they should get behind Aimless...

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This is Kurt and some girl whose name I don't think I ever knew. I watched most of the Rose Bowl with them beside an RV outside the stadium. Good game. The RV belonged to a guy named Chris, who played center for Oregon in the mid 80s. I also met some local people earlier in the day who were cool as hell. They go to the Rose Bowl every year. From what I've heard, my interview on channel 6 was really cool. Hope you saw it. --> I stuck around Pasadena for the championship game. By game day I'd been hanging for several days with another tramp (from Cleveland) named Jim. Very cool guy. Almost all the people who talked to us, as we wandered the stadium parking lots, were USC fans (not Texas or Bama fans). --> The other day, as I watched Jim fly a sign ("Tough Times") at an off-ramp, an old man driving on the opposite side of the ramp honked a few times to get Jim's attention. When Jim turned
to look, the old man flipped him the bird. It was so funny. I'll put a pic of Jim in the next post.

Clay Hall left me a

Clay Hall left me a message today, saying channel 6 will air my interview sometime tonight. If you're in Columbus, keep an eye out for it.

Inexpensive

Cheap Trick, live outside the Rose Bowl... Free. (Way to blow it, Northwestern.)