Aimless

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Lexington TN

I waited at the Exit 108 on-ramp for about an hour last night, secretly hoping no one would offer me a ride after I'd noticed all the awesome places to camp out. I ended up leaving the on-ramp before it even got dark because I just had to spend a night in the field northeast of Exit 108. It turns out that the field was the site of a Civil War battle called Parker's something or other. --> I made it back to the on-ramp this morning at 10:15 or 10:30, but after about an hour I got sick of waiting. The weather was much nicer than yesterday--cooler and cloudy--so I just started walking south. I'd hoped it was only about 6 miles to Lexington, but I soon passed a sign that told me it was 10 miles. I had no idea if Lexington was even big enough to have any grocery stores, so this was a gamble, considering I only had enough food to get me through tomorrow (eating lightly). Well, the town is big
enough, so I bought some grits and a couple other things. I estimate Jackson is about 20 more miles.

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Happy Birthday, Jeffy!

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Quake

People have been telling me there was an earthquake in this area several days ago, asking if I felt it. I can't say for sure that I did feel it, but I remember one night, while I was about one-fourth awake, thinking something like, "Uhh, was that an earthquake?" I'm really not sure if that thought ever actually happened, though. Someone said the earthquake's epicenter was really close to Evansville. Is that true? Did you feel it, Brad? --> It's really hot today. I need to get somewhere where I can stay inside for a couple days and then hang out outside the next day without a shirt because I'm getting a major farmer's tan. --> Speaking of shirts, I've been wearing the same shirt ever since I left Brad's house and it still doesn't stink. I haven't done laundry or taken a shower since then, either. --> Made it to Exit 108. Now to get me some Subway.

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Exit 108

If you have watched the Quasi-Aimless trailer, you may remember that the video ends late in the afternoon of Christmas Eve, 2006, with me stuck on the side of an interstate about halfway between Memphis and Nashville. It didn't actually end that way, though; I did make it home for Christmas. But first I was removed from the interstate by a highway patrol officer. He took me back a couple miles, to Exit 108, where I eventually got a ride to the Nashville Greyhound station with a guy named Matt Reel. --> I am now walking along Tennessee Rte 22, several miles south of Huntingdon, hoping it's only a few more miles to I-40 Exit 108. Yup, the same exit. I think this will be the first time I've hitchhiked from the same place two different times. This time, though, I'm going west instead of east. I hope this time I can get a ride as quick as I did on X-mas Eve (less than a few hours). --> I
don't like my newest tent. I want my previous tent back. More about that when I get a chance.

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Monday, April 21, 2008

Man, that's annoying

I just stopped at the library in Camden, Tennessee to make sure all my posts have published so I can delete them from my phone, and I saw the crap that Verizon is putting at the end of my posts. Man, that's annoying. I hope I can find some way to keep it from doing that.

--
Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

Waverly TN

Several miles west of McEwen last evening, I stopped and set up camp on some grass between US 70 and the railroad tracks that run parallel to the road. Feeling pretty sure there would be no rain, I pitched the canopy without the rainfly or stakes, then cooked some rice. I knew I was very visible to passing drivers, especially with my headlamp shining through the mesh canopy, but I wasn't too worried. --> The warm day quickly turned to cold night, so after my meal I crawled inside my sleeping bag to warm up, not intending to sleep for a while. Still inside the bag, maybe 15 minutes later, I heard the sound of a car door shutting about 20 feet away. Seconds later I heard the distinct sound of law enforcement communications (CB radio), so I popped up out of my bag as three cops approached me. --> The cops were very cool; they would've let me stay if it'd been their decision. After I packed
up all my stuff, they ended up taking me about 20 miles, a couple miles west of the Tennessee River.

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Dickson Part 3

(I forgot to mention that I also bought instant grits at Kroger. Grits is good, cheap eats, as long as there's enough water to fix 'em, clean the pot, and stay hydrated.) --> Upon returning to the Pilot station, I cooked some rice and decided I'd had enough of the truck stop. So at about 8:00, I walked away from I-40 and into Dickson, figuring I'd start walking toward Memphis on US 70. --> On the western edge of Dickson, when I found a nice place to camp at 11:00, I decided to try something new with my tent. Instead of pitching the whole tent, I only set up the footprint, poles, and rainfly, leaving the canopy in the stuff sack. This creates more of a shelter than a room--it won't keep the critters out--but it creates a lot more space than the canopy allows. I liked it; however, my campsite was in very tall grass, which is probably one of the worst places to set up a "fast fly"
configuration. --> Five miles out of Dickson, a strange young guy named Brandon gave me a ride to McEwen.

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Sunday, April 20, 2008

Dickson Part 2

It stopped raining at about 11:00 PM, so I looked around the perimeter of the truck stop for a place to sleep. I found a nice spot in a big grassy field beside the truck stop. The field was wet and muddy, but I managed to keep my stuff pretty mud-free. --> Saturday morning was sunny and breezy, so my tent was dry when I woke up. That's always nice because there is usually a lot of condensation on the inside and outside of the rainfly, which takes a while to dry when utilizing the combination of sponge and morning air. --> When I went back to the truck stop late in the morning, the weather turned ugly again; it got cold and rainy. Finally, in mid-afternoon, the rain stopped, so I went to the on-ramp for a couple hours. Wearing shorts, I got too cold to stay outside, so I walked back to the truck stop and changed into my train-stained jeans. Then I went back to the on-ramp for another
couple hours. No ride and I was cold, so again I went back to the truck stop, but not for long...

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Dickson TN

Friday after the cop deal, I stopped at a Kroger a few miles up the road. I got some clam chowder, peanut butter, and Chef Boy-Ar-Dee, as well as a couple other things I couldn't have prepared before my stop at REI, where I bought a pot for cooking. For the first time, I bought smallish packets of rice and instant mashed potatoes. Each packet is cheap and constitutes a filling meal; however, four servings of mashed potatoes makes for boring eats. It would be nice to have some meat with that stuff, but I can neither afford nor store meat. --> I reached I-40 a few miles later and waited by the westbound on-ramp. After waiting a couple hours, I had a ride 20 or 25 miles, to the Dickson exit, where I immediately walked to the Pilot truck stop. Shortly it began raining, then it kept raining. There was nowhere dry where I could hang out and let truckers see me, so I spent several hours
sitting in the attached Wendy's, hoping someone would ask me where I was headed. No one did...

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Friday, April 18, 2008

My confession Part 3

I also used the credit card to pay for the motel room in Georgia a couple weeks ago. And why have I bothered volunteering this information? Because it should show this blog's regular readers that I'm an honest, trustworthy, objective storyteller. --> Anyway, I don't expect to use the credit card again unless I have some kind of major emergency. Additionally, I did not use the credit card to pay for the stuff I bought Wednesday night; I used my gift card and my REI member dividend thingy to pay for that stuff. --> The things I bought at REI are already making a huge impact. For example, the headlamp helped me see much better last night as I walked along a busy road that has almost no shoulder. It also made me much more visible to oncoming traffic. The shirt has kept me warm and protected both my arms and neck from the sun. I also bought a fleece hat-type-thing that covers my head and
ears. It's awesome! I wish I'd had it when I was riding the train the other night. --> I'm tired.

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My confession Part 2

The cop proceeded to do all the usual stuff, like ask for my ID and SSN (to which, like always, I claimed ignorance). He then wrote up a report, which he said will function as a warning, meaning the next time--I mean the FIRST time--I get caught "camping" on "Such and Such Metro Parks" property, I'll get fined something like $100. Actually, this guy was cool; I don't know why he felt he had to take it so far, especially considering no cops even saw me there. [End interruption.] --> ... I used the credit card to pay for some of the things I bought at REI. I'm OK with that, though, because I only bought things I absolutely need. I bought things that will keep me safe (like a headlamp and reflector tape) and I bought things that will keep me from suffering any more lifelong injuries. I used the credit card to buy this stuff because I don't have anything else to prove. I've used inadequate,
unsafe equipment for long enough. But I still don't have everything I need, like a good backpack...

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My confession

I didn't have enough time Wednesday night to do everything I needed to do at REI, so I slept right around the corner and went back to the store yesterday morning. I ended up getting a new, lighter, better fitting jacket, a long sleeve shirt with a half-turtle-neck & zipper, and some other minor things. I also packed up some stuff to send home via REI's shipping folks, including 5 shirts, my old jacket, and a heavy book I bought in Savannah. --> I feel compelled to let everyone know that, unlike last year, I have an emergency credit card for Aimless 2008. My own rule says I'm not allowed to use it to buy food or anything that can make this journey easy for me. However, I have used it a couple times so far... --> I must interrupt these thoughts because I just had a strange cop encounter. Nearly 90 minutes after I packed up camp and headed down the road, as I sat writing this, a cop
stopped and asked me if I'm the guy who camped out near the golf course. As an honest guy, I said yes...

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Thursday, April 17, 2008

Nashville

Not much to say about early yesterday. First I walked a loop around downtown Nashville, then I headed south toward Brentwood. After about 10 miles, a Toyota SUV with 3 college-aged guys stopped. They offered me a ride the last couple miles to REI and bought me a meal at Chick-Fil-A, where I also met 2 of their friends. They're students at Lipscomb, a Christian college. Very cool guys. They didn't ask me if I know Christ, nor did they try to introduce me to Christ; they simply did something nice for me. In other words, they DWJWD, as opposed to driving around with a WWJD plate, not doing anything nice for anyone. They certainly earned my respect, for that and other reasons. --> I spent a couple hours at REI last night, picking up some things I need, like ripstop tape to fix the floor of my tent. REI employees are awesome! Everyone is helpful and knowledgeable. The guys are cool and the
gals are sweethearts. Even though REI won't sponsor me, I'm happy to promote them in some small way.

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Wednesday, April 16, 2008

I've been thinking about a couple things I said in my Evansville post; things that came out wrong and probably made me sound, well, ungrateful to Brad and his friends. Brad, I want to make it very clear that you were an awesome host. I just hope I was half as good a guest. I'm really glad I was able to make it to Evansville to see you after all these years, and I really enjoyed staying with you. --> Not walking for ten days has really done a number on me. After walking 6 miles yesterday and 6.5 so far today, my legs are killing me. Particularly my upper legs, which I don't remember hurting so much last year. --> In case you were wondering: Yes, I did call my mom last night (after getting off the train) to let her know I didn't get dead or nothin'. --> I don't think I have anything else to say right now. Just walking south out of Nashville, to Brentwood, where there is an REI store. -->
Oh yeah... Luke called me last night, shortly after I got off the train. That was cool.

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Totally different experience

Wow! Now that was a train ride! Doing it alone without anyone's assistance is way the hell different than shadowing a couple seasoned hobos, especially when you don't get kicked off after 60 miles. The best word I can find to describe my first solo freight train ride is 'surreal.' It's just you and a train and everything that goes by for 5+ hours. --> The train finally stopped in downtown Nashville at about 8:15 CDT. Once it stopped, I quickly picked up my stuff and climbed off. Good thing, too, because it was moving again within a few minutes. It was probably a crew change. --> Train riders have a word for trains that go hundreds of miles without stopping--not even to let other trains pass in the opposite direction. I think they call these trains 'hot shots,' but I may be wrong. Anyway, I think this was one of those trains. --> My mom called me an hour or two into the trip. She hadn't
read the earlier blog posts, but with the roaring noise, she figured out pretty quickly where I was.

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Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Just went thru Springfield, TN;

Just went thru Springfield, TN; getting close to Nashville. I hope this train stops there. It hasn't stopped yet. Been hauling ass! I'm hungry.

Am I a hobo now?

We've reached cruising altitude and are now at least 20 or 30 miles into Kentucky. I think some maintenance people may have seen me when the train was only a couple miles down the road. But if they did see me, they didn't give a shit (because I'm still on the train). --> This train is much smoother than the one I rode last summer. It's almost certainly going to get me a lot farther, too. Considering this train is at least a mile long and is loaded with shipping containers, I suspect it is going all the way to Jacksonville. Maybe not. Wherever it's going, though, I know it's the right place.

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My first solo ride

I'm about 3.5 miles from Brad's house and, as you may have figured out already, it looks like I found my ride. This shipping container train slowly passed me, then stopped, as I walked beside the south end of the yard. Instead of getting on the train, I kept walking toward the engines until I saw a tanker truck parked beside them. (My guess is that the train was refueling; a good sign.) After walking past the engines, the train started moving again; I felt like I'd missed a good opportunity. But it didn't pick up speed, so I thought it might stop again. It did stop, so I got on. --> Since I got on, the train has gone a couple miles, but it stopped again. I'm in a very comfortable, very safe-feeling spot, as long as I don't get caught. I just want this thing to start going for real. It may take me to Nashville, but I really have no idea where it'll go. --> Unlike my first trainhop, there
has been no drama yet... It just started moving again. Let's go this time!

Squat the planet

While I'm thinking about it, check out this page. It's a discussion someone started on a squatter site about one of my videos. I just stumbled onto it a couple days ago.

Just about time to go.

(Brad, I left you something. Look behind the stack of CDs above your desk.)

--
Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

Collier County

I received an e-mail this morning that instantly inspired me and will surely help my state of mind once it starts getting tough out there and I start getting bitchy and pissy. (You all know it's going to happen, so don't act surprised when I turn into Satan in a month or so.) The e-mail is from a guy named David in Naples:

I stumbled onto your aimlessness while up late one night screwing around on youtube. I saw the cop video and clicked on it thinking i was going to see some funny clip i related to on the horrible cops in my county(collier). I ended up watching all the youtube clips and stayed up all night watching your adventures gaining inspiration with every one. If every American took the same approach to life this would be a much more beautiful country. I wish i knew about this when you were down here so i could throw you a few bucks that i was going to waste on a dying economy. You woke me up dude and i'm going to start following my dreams now. I actually work in a pizza place (Aurelios) ironically. I thought i would just fly you this kite to let you know that you are doing something special and i bet you have inspired more in people than you know. If you aimlessly roam back down this way give me a call i'd love to do anything i can to help you and your cause out.

David, I hope you're right about me inspiring people because you've certainly inspired me. Thanks for contacting me and giving me a boost. I'll think about your message when things start getting tough.

I didn't have a chance to explain why I'm not going to read blog comments while I'm on the road, so here goes: I know sooner or later there will be some comments calling me ungrateful and generally criticizing certain aspects of my personality. Even though there probably will not be many such comments, those kind of comments affect me profoundly. I'm a pretty sensitive guy, so it's hard for me to just shake them off. Consequently, I decided it would be better for me to just not read any comments while I am in position to be damaged by them.

Well, it's just about time to hit the road again. I'm washing a few clothing items right now and charging the things that need one last jolt of electricity. The weather looks nice; reasonably warm with clear skies, after a few days of cold, wet, and cloudy. I estimate I'll be out of here by about noon local time (CDT), then it'll be time to start learning a little bit about how the railroad industry operates.

--
Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

Monday, April 14, 2008

Evansville

Just after crossing the Illinois/Indiana state line last Thursday, while still in the truck, I called Brad to find out a good place for Pat and Salim to drop me off, as they were routed straight through Evansville. An hour after receiving the coordinates, the truckers let me out, about half a mile from the intersection Brad named (because there was plenty of room on the shoulder to pull the truck over, while we were unsure whether there would be such space up ahead).

At 4:30 I arrived at our meeting place and lit up a Pall Mall from a pack Pat had given me. I figured I'd finish the smoke, then call Brad to find out when he'd be around, but Brad pulled into the gas station's parking lot before I finished smoking my evil cancer stick, shortly after 5:00. While loading my backpack into the back of Brad's Jeep, he introduced me to his son, Kam, who was riding in the back seat. On the way to his house, Brad showed me a little bit of Evansville, including the railyard.

At his house, Brad immediately dug out his hair clippers and fixed my scissorjob with the 1/4" attachment. I took a shower and started on my laundry, most of which I'd not even worn but needed washed anyway because, as you may remember, all my stuff was soaked in Georgia. (I'm going to redo my head with the 1/8" attachment before I leave Brad's house.)

I had some clothes that were still clean enough to wear in public, so sometime Thursday evening we headed out for dinner at what I guess is Brad's favorite Evansville pizza joint. I think it's called Turino's. (Brad, correct me if I'm wrong.) First we took Kam to Brad's ex-wife's house and picked up Brad's good friend Ben (who marched with Brad in the Limited Edition Drum & Bugle Corps the year after my final season). Then we headed to the pizza joint.

I usually prefer a simple pizza with only cheese or pepperoni, but Brad and Ben were Jonesing for something with a lot more stuff on it, so I decided to try a pizza loaded with toppings I've never considered eating before. I think it had pepperoni, sausage, black olives, green olives, and a couple other things on it, but I didn't pick anything off of my pieces and I enjoyed it. (Thanks for helping me broaden my repertoire of tastes, guys.)

Shortly after the pizza arrived, Steve Groves and his wife showed up. Steve marched in Limited Edition one of the years I was in the corps, but I didn't know him very well. It was cool to see him again after all these years; his wife is very cool.

Since Brad had to work early Friday, we didn't stay out very late Thursday night.

I used Friday to catch up on my e-mail and mess around on Brad's computer. When he got home from work, we went to his girlfriend Lora's house, then to another pizza joint, where we ordered their signature item, "stromboli." I was confused with the menu because they did not have a list of several different types of stromboli. "Stromboli" was just listed at the top of the "Sandwich" menu, and there was just one variation, which the menu does not even describe.

When our "strombolis" arrived, they turned out to be sandwiches. They were sliced sub rolls with ground beef, cheese, onions, peppers, and maybe some other stuff. Considering this pizza place was clearly a favorite hometown joint (with three or four locations), I just sat there and wondered, "Has anyone ever told them that this is not a stromboli? How do they not know already? What the fuck?!?"

Confused, I ate my not-stromboli. I thought the previous night's pizza was much better.

After dinner, we spent most of the night hanging out at Lora's house.

Saturday was very interesting. We wasted the day and prepared to have a night on the town. Sometime in the evening, we picked up Lora and headed toward downtown Evansville. They wanted to show me around, but the warm day had turned into a cold and windy night. We parked about a mile from the heart of downtown, beside the Ohio River, and started walking toward the action. But after five or ten minutes of walking, Brad (who had no jacket) couldn't take any more, so we headed back to the car. That was fine with me because I was cold even with a jacket, particularly because I'm used to having thorough insulation atop my head. Without my signature mop on top, I now get cold much quicker.

Upon returning to the car, we headed to one of their favorite bars.

Just before we entered the bar, they informed me it was a gay bar. No, it didn't freak me out. I've been to gay bars on many occasions before. And no, I'm not gay; I'm just not a fearful bigot.

So we all sat at the bar, consumed some adult beverages, and eventually began talking to a very gay guy named Stephen. Stephen was cool. He was also into drum corps; however, he never marched in a drum corps.

A couple hours later we went upstairs, as the show was about to begin. What show? The drag queen show.

I couldn't really get a good picture from where I was sitting, so here's a crappy one.

I have another picture that might be a little better than that one. Maybe I'll get it up here some other time.

Anyway, I got some video footage of the drag queen show. You'll probably never see it because it's not really all that interesting, especially if you're gay and have seen 50 such shows already.

Since this is getting pretty long, I have one more thing to say right now about my time in Evansville: Yesterday, at Lora's house, Lora decided to make some food for me and Brad. She started by rolling out a canned pizza dough into a rectangle. To the dough she added ham, turkey, and cheese. Then she rolled up the dough lengthwise and sealed the ends before adding an eggwash and putting it in the oven.

In other words, she made us a stromboli. Not just a random food creation someone just decided should be called "stromboli," but a true stromboli. She didn't know it was a stromboli, though, because she thinks the pizza joint's sandwich thing is a stromboli. I can't remember if I pointed that out to her.

I preferred her stromboli to the pizza joint's "stromboli."

Also, Lora's really nice. And Brad, you are a very good dad. It's obvious that your kid loves you, so keep doing it right.

--
Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

Suicide Solution

I've been listening to Brad's Motley Crue Shout at the Devil CD because for too many years I have been deprived of one of rock and roll's greatest albums. Looking through the liner notes, after all the thank yous and whatnot, it says, "Caution: This record may contain backward messages."

That's funny because it's obviously a smart-ass response to the hysteria generated by all the shitty, uptight parents who, in the early 1980s, made harmless metal lyrics a scapegoat for their horrible parenting skills.

I want to thank you, Motley Crue, Ozzy, Iron Maiden, Dokken, Queensryche, Dio, King Diamond, young Metallica, Ratt, Twisted Sister, GNR, Slayer, and all other "Devil Music" bands for refusing to numb my young mind and for helping me develop a personality and a sense of independence while most of the other kids my age were sedated and brainwashed by top 40 bullshit.

A double devil sign to all of you, even those of you who went on to suck. (I'm not positive, but I bet Pastor Lew gives me an Amen on this one.)

--
Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

Transcontinental tales

All right, so let's see if I can stop talking about myself and start talking about some of the people I meet.

Patrick Clancey is a trainer for a large trucking company. He is originally from Long Island but now lives near Knoxville, Tennessee. Equipped with more of a Brooklyn accent--as opposed to a Long Island accent--Patrick is a huge Ozzy Osbourne fan, which seems to drive his current trainee Salim ("SAH-leem") Napier a little nuts sometimes because, as you might have guessed, Salim is black and likes R&B music. It's not a hostile kind of nuts, though; more like a "Jeez, I wish he'd turn that shit off" kind of nuts.

Patrick and Salim get along very well, and I got along well with both of them for over 5,000 miles. In their cab you'll hear a lot of playful references to chicken, watermelons, and crackers, as well as some other usually-racially-derogatory terms, but it's all in fun in their particular Freightliner.

On to Patrick: When Pat is sleeping, he is both funny and scary. He apparently has narcolepsy and sleep apnea, along with some other custom-made, freaky sleep habits. When he sleeps, his snores sound like a lion's roar. He often sleeps sitting up, occasionally talking in his sleep, making for many confusing moments.

There is a fine line between consciousness and unconsciousness with Patrick. When he is not driving, he bounces back and forth between sleep and not-sleep just about every few seconds. There were many times when he would be sitting on the passenger seat asleep, only to wake up and light a Pall Mall, take a hit or two, then fall back asleep in an upright position with the lit cigarette between his fingers. A few seconds later he would wake up and take another hit, then likely fall back asleep for ten or twenty seconds. During these episodes, Salim and I usually paid pretty close attention to Patrick because, well, that's kinda freaky.

Even more freaky was when Patrick "drove the truck" in his sleep. Sometimes when Salim was driving and Pat was sleeping in the passenger seat, Pat would reach for various instruments on the truck's instrument panel, like the parking brake controls. Salim would have to keep a close eye on Pat at moments like this because even when asleep, Pat's brain seems to remain operating an 18-wheeler.

Thursday morning while sleeping in the passenger seat, Pat reached for his door handle and pulled on it, slightly opening the door. Salim was quick to notice this and vigilantly shouted something to Pat, in an attempt to snap him out of it. It worked; Pat woke up and pulled the door shut.

This kind of stuff happens very regularly when Pat is not driving. Obviously it is kind of stressful for the other people in the cab. But when Pat is behind the wheel, he's as solid as a rock. He does not drift in and out of full consciousness; his attention is totally on the task at hand. He is a very safe driver.

As of right now, Salim has about a week of training left before he becomes a regular employee. Even with the good relationship between Salim and Pat, I'm sure Salim is more than ready to move on. His nerves must be totally shot by now. He told me he is going to be a team driver when he finishes his training with Pat. I don't know if that is his choice or if you have to start out as a team driver; it sounded as if he chose to drive as part of a team.

Anyway, I'll probably see one or both of these guys somewhere down the road. Pat and I exchanged phone numbers, so I can see myself potentially climbing back into his blue Freightliner again someday. It certainly will not be for a ride back and forth across the entire country, though.

Here's a pic of Salim. I never got around to taking a picture of Pat.

In other news, I'm going to wait until tomorrow to leave Brad's house, rather than today, because the weather is supposed to be a little better tomorrow. I intend to write another post later today about some things we've done here in Evansville.

In something totally unrelated... Brad, I looked up the lyrics to that Pretenders song we heard at the airport. Here's what she says:

GONNA USE MY ARMS
GONNA USE MY LEGS
GONNA USE MY STYLE
GONNA USE MY SIDESTEP
GONNA USE MY FINGERS
GONNA USE MY, MY, MY IMAGINATION

I've been wondering for years what the hell she says there. (I'll probably forget in five minutes.)

--
Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Blog help

While reading my recent blog posts a couple days ago, I realized something: I tend to write a lot about where I am and what's going on with me, but I don't usually say much about the people I meet or the things that happen around me. I concluded that if I was a reader of this blog, I would find it pretty boring and incomplete. I would probably think, "That guy (me) is pretty self-centered."

The problem is not that I mean to talk about myself all the time. The problem is that I have the wrong tools with which to blog. With each post I send from my phone, I have only 1,000 characters to say what I want to say, and I have to say it with a numbered keypad, not a keyboard. With only this method available to me, every blog entry requires way too much time and work, and editing/redrafting can be damn near impossible sometimes. Also, when I'm on the road, there's constantly so much sensory information to filter, it's difficult for me to recognize what's interesting and what's boring.

Considering these obstacles (as well as all the other obstacles I have not mentioned here), I have a favor to ask of this blog's readers: Whenever I write about something that sounds like it might be pretty interesting but I don't say much about it, call me and let me know you would like me to elaborate. (That is, unless you have an ultralight laptop you're willing to give me.)

614-738-3867

I had a lot more to say about my recent trip, as well as some stuff about my time in Evansville, but I don't feel like saying it all right now. Hopefully I'll get a chance to say it later tonight or tomorrow. Also, I'll probably take off from Brad's house tomorrow. (Brad lives right down the street from a huge railroad yard. Wink wink.)

Until next time, here's a picture of Brad and his son Kam playing a wrasslin' video game.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Ready to eject

I thought we were going to continue heading toward Owensboro, Kentucky this afternoon and evening, but we're still in or near Columbia, Missouri, apparently for the night. That sucks for me because: 1) I wanted to get all the way to Evansville, Indiana tonight to see Brad "Fishbone" Perkins, whom I have not seen in at least ten years; 2) I've been stuffed in a truck with two guys and a broken-legged, pissing chihuahua (sp?) for almost every minute of the last five days; and 3) Since there is currently no one driving, I have nowhere to sleep. --> I've enjoyed riding with these guys--they're both very cool--but spending five days in a crowded truck wears on you. There is almost no chance I will accept any more rides from one coast to the other and back. From now on, all rides will be one-way, with a few possible exceptions, like if I cross paths with Travis again. (Hey Travis: If you're
out there, give me a call sometime.) --> See ya sometime tomorrow, Brad.

Owensboro

Hey Brad (Fishbone): We'll be arriving in Owensboro tonight to deliver a load, but they won't accept the load until Friday, so I was thinking maybe we could meet up somewhere if you're available. I know this is really short notice, but I just found out myself. We're in Kansas City right now (at about 3:00 CDT), so it'll be a while before we hit Evansville; it'll be sometime tonight. I guess you can just call me if you have some time to hang out. (There are surely many other possible options.) Y'know, I don't have to go all the way to Knoxville with these guys, either. I can do whatever I want. --> I love Oregon. I could see myself calling Oregon home someday.

Monday, April 07, 2008

Quick 6k

We made it to Portland today at about noon or 1:00 PM local time. So it took less than two and a half days to get from Atlanta to Portland. We dropped the trailer somewhere on the south side of town and are now waiting at a truck stop for another driver to bring us the trailer we'll be taking back east. I don't really feel like riding right back through Idaho, Wyoming, Nebraska, and Missouri, but it just wouldn't seem right for me to part ways with the guys right now, so I'll be going back that way. --> I wish we were near downtown Portland right now because I really need to get to an REI store soon and I know where the downtown Portland REI store is. --> Now Pat is talking about taking a different route back east; maybe down I-5 to Sacramento, then east. That might be cool, except we'd still have to go across Wyoming, Nebraska, and Missouri. Oh, whatever. --> I probably won't have much
to say for the next few days because I'll be riding another 3,000 miles in a Freightliner.

Sunday, April 06, 2008

Hair gone

Did anyone think I was bullshitting about cutting off all my hair? I ended up cutting it entirely with scissors because the clippers just wouldn't cut anything; not even after I'd finally finished cutting it all off with the scissors. And even though the picture is from about five days ago, that's still how my hair looks because I haven't passed a barber shop yet. Good thing I have a hat. --> Here's the deal with going to Portland: I'm riding with a trainer named Pat and a trainee named Salim. With two drivers, we've been moving almost nonstop since leaving Atlanta. We're currently in Cheyenne, 1,180 miles from Portland. Right now the premise is that I'll be riding back to Tennessee with them after they finish their business in Portland. But who knows; I might just end up staying in Portland, then doing the west coast thing. I have 24 hours to think about it. --> I've decided I'm not
going to read blog comments while I'm on the road; not even when I can.

Saturday, April 05, 2008

Post-Metter

I checked out of the motel yesterday morning and went straight to the crappy on-ramp where I'd had no luck two days earlier, but my luck quickly changed. Within an hour, I was riding to Atlanta with a girl named Rachel Head. She was cool. Our conversation held steady for the entire ride until she dropped me off near the Atlanta airport. Within a few hours I had another ride, to a Pilot station on the northwest side of Atlanta, with a guy named Gary Cox. This truck stop was very small, so after a few hours I decided to walk 7 miles to what someone told me was a bigger Pilot station. The walk kinda sucked because it was raining most of the time, then the Pilot turned out to be Petro, which tends to have tight "tramp security." When I arrived, at about 2:30 AM, security was quick to approach me, but I said I just needed to sit for a while and dry off. He said it was OK. Right away a driver
started talking to me, and now we're about an hour west of St. Louis, heading to Portland.

Metter Part 7

Long story short: The cop was a total prickwad asshole. He treated me like I was wasting his time, telling me I could walk to the motel down the road. The problem was that I was cold to the bone and all my stuff was soaked, adding a lot of weight and making it difficult to compress things. --> That fuckface ought to be fired. If I hadn't been genuinely concerned about my safety, I wouldn't have called 911. --> Maybe half an hour after the dickhead cop left, I found some energy within myself, probably because I was so pissed off about the way he treated me. So I packed up my stuff and walked to the EconoLodge, with my feet sloshing in my water-filled boots. And for the first time in my Aimless career, six hours after the misery began, I paid for lodging. It was the right thing to do, though, because checking in at 10:00 bought me 25 hours to get some rest and dry all my stuff, including
my tent (which now has three small rips in the floor). That was Thursday.

Metter Part 6

After putting all my stuff under the overpass, I returned to my tent to remove the stakes. (I lost one stake in the water, which was 6-8 inches deep at this point.) I moved the tent, still pitched, to the overpass with the rest of my stuff, then I scattered my stuff all over the guardrail and the ground in an attempt to allow things to drip "dry" before removing my emergency blanket from its package. Wrapping the emergency blanket around myself, I lied down and waited, hoping someone (like a cop) would stop and help me get somewhere warm and dry. No one stopped. --> I don't remember much from the next couple hours, but I do remember hoping sunrise would make things a little better. It didn't, and I was now cold and desperate enough to call 911. But having dropped my phone in the water, I wasn't sure it would ever work again. Fortunately it did work, so I asked the 911 operator to send
someone to help me. Fifteen or twenty minutes later, a Metter Police officer showed up...

Metter Part 5

With most of my stuff near the on-ramp's asphalt surface, I looked around for some kind of shelter. If my stuff had been dry and packed, I could've carried it to a nearby gas station or something, but it was neither dry nor packed. Consequently, my only option was to relocate everything under the overpass and hope for a safe, dry spot. So in two or three trips I moved everything about 300 feet to a spot below the overpass, each time walking past my tent, which was 50 or 100 feet from the overpass. --> With a wide shoulder and a guardrail, the space under the overpass was safe, but it wasn't dry. The shoulder itself was mostly dry, but there was a constant stream of water draining from the overpass behind the guardrail, making my life slightly less miserable than it had been moments earlier. (If you haven't figured this out already, I couldn't occupy the dry interstate shoulder because
that would have been dangerous and stupid.) It was also windy below the overpass, which didn't help...

Friday, April 04, 2008

Metter Part 4

There was higher ground about fifty feet away from my tent, so that's where I placed my backpack and camera bag before returning to the tent to fetch my sleeping bag, sleeping pad, and various other items I remove from my pack each night when I sleep. (Keep in mind, it was still raining steadily, so even though I was moving everything to higher ground, out of the new pond, it was all still getting very wet.) --> Instead of setting the remaining items near the backpack, I carried them about 200 feet to the on-ramp, above the bowl, where there was little standing water. I then returned to grab the backpack and camera bag, carrying them to the on-ramp pile. --> Even though I'd now moved most of my stuff fully out of standing water, leaving a few things behind inside the tent/lake, I was deep in the midst of a serious "Oh Fuck!" moment because most everything, including myself and my
clothes, was thoroughly drenched and I was nowhere near anything that could shelter me from the rain...

Metter Part 4

Metter Part 3

Only a few minutes after making the assessment that I was in OK shape, I looked out the tent door into the vestibule, where I'd left my boots and tripod. It looked as if the tripod was pretty much submerged, and my boots were kinda floating. Time for reassessment! --> I was now a little worried, but I still thought I was OK because it looked like the tripod had been in an anomalous rut, while most of my tent was safely adjacent to the rut. However, when I reached outside to move the tripod, the "levee broke," causing a lot of water to enter the tent. --> At this point I knew I was pretty screwed. Wearing only a shirt and underwear, I reached for my jeans, which were already well on their way to being soaked. I also grabbed my phone and camera bag as I stumbled out of the tent, trying to put on my jeans. --> I didn't know what to do, so I slung the camera bag on my shoulder and pulled my
backpack out of the tent before looking for higher ground nearby, where I could place the stuff...

Metter Part 2

On the way back toward the interstate from downtown Metter Wednesday night, it began raining lightly; more like a mist than a true rain. It felt like the kind of precipitation that would pass within a couple hours, so I wasn't worried. After walking through the mist for about a mile, I'd reached the interstate once again, where I quickly found a spot between the on-ramp and the roadway to set up camp. The area between the ramp and road is much like a bowl, but I felt pretty sure that I'd found a high enough spot for safe camping. Good thing, too, because a steady rain began just as I finished setting up. --> I got to sleep pretty easily at about 12:30, then woke up at about 4:00, quickly noticing the continuing rain and a shallow pool of water beneath the tent. No worry, though, because the tub-shaped floor of my tent protects up to at least a few inches on each side. It seemed my only
real problem was dealing with the cold water under the tent, which really didn't bother me, anyway...

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Metter Part 1

Yesterday morning began with a two-mile walk to I-16, after sleeping in a dormant cotton field. At this exit there was one tiny "truck stop." With only two diesel islands, I didn't bother trying to get a ride there, but I did get some food--a chicken breast & wing, four huge potato-wedge-like thingies, and a roll for about $3.70. After lunch I headed to the on-ramp, where I didn't like my prospects, due to lite traffic and no shade. Nevertheless, I got a ride after less than an hour, to Metter. (Here's where it gets "fun.") --> In Metter I went straight to the on-ramp. Again, with no shade and 85- or 90-degree heat, I waited in jeans and a long sleeve shirt, with a "camp towel" wrapped around my neck for sun protection. Never feeling good about this spot, I waited there for five hours until it started getting dark. --> At nightfall I walked to town so I could look for a two-lane road
that'd take me toward the next exit. I ended up doing yet another unnecessary 7-mile walk to nowhere...

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Yesterday sucked

So you thought I was exaggerating when I said I have hundreds of bug bites on my arms and legs, huh? Well, I'm not sure how much you can see from the picture, but that's just a small part of the inflicted area. Furthermore, I took the picture yesterday, after a few days of relative bug inactivity. --> I did not end up having to double back the entire six miles yesterday. It turns out that I was actually heading the right way when I started yesterday, but I should have taken a left after about 2.5 miles. Instead, I walked another 3.5 miles in the wrong direction, which means I ended up walking more than seven unnecessary miles. Yesterday sucked for a few other reasons, too, but I'm not going to get into that. The suckitude carried over to this morning, as well, with me accidentally putting a small hole in the mesh of my tent canopy. --> I think I'm finally only about a mile from I-16,
and I've been told there are truck stops there. There better be. If not, I'll be really pissed.

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

I just realized I've walked

I just realized I've walked six miles in the wrong fucking direction. So in a couple hours from now, I will have walked 12 miles to nowhere. Fun.

Money

I find money almost every day when I walk. Not much, but some. Thursday I found a penny. Friday I found two pennies. Saturday two nickels. And Sunday just a penny again. Today, in my first half-hour of walking, I found a dime and a penny. Ten minutes later I found a dime and about a hundred pennies. Less than an hour after that, another dime. Yesterday, however, I did not find any money, which is very unusual. --> A guy named Casey Case gave me a ride to Statesboro yesterday. I normally would have just asked him to drop me off near the interstate, but I was hungry, so I rode to town with him. After making a quick stop at KFC, he dropped me off near his apartment, where I sat and ate outside a doctor's office. Shortly he returned and said I could stay at his place for the night. I took a welcome shower and we talked quite a bit, then Casey brought me the hair clippers I'd asked about.
So, did I have the balls to use the clippers? Find out soon on ... TALES OF AIMLESSNESS

Monday, March 31, 2008

Hair on

Hair on.

Atlanta bound

All right, I'm not actually bound for Atlanta yet. Instead, I'm sitting on a guardrail beside the on-ramp from US 280 to I-16 West. I'm wearing jeans and a long sleeve shirt to protect myself from the sun; I'd prefer to be wearing less. I want to get to Atlanta because there are a few REI stores there and I need some stuff. If I don't go to Atlanta, I probably won't be near another REI until Houston (supposing I go west, which seems to be the plan). --> Since I'm headed toward Atlanta, I think I might swing on into east Tennessee to watch the Final Four with my great uncle Fred, like I did two years ago, after I went to the Memphis Film Festival. (I think Fred may read this blog regularly, but I'm not sure. If so, how's that sound, Fred? Gimme a call if it sounds good. I'll gladly help you thin out the numbers of your crappie surplus!) ... [Later that day] Hey, I got a ride. Now I'm in
Statesboro. Not too far down the road, but better than it was. Now I have to walk back to I-16.

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Closer to Atlanta

Yesterday I went ahead and waited by the I-95 on-ramp, rather than just setting up camp early. Half an hour later I was riding back to Savannah with a guy named Lee (from Sunbury?). He dropped me off near I-16 & I-95, where he pointed out a very nice place to camp. I had my tent set up by about 7:15 and fell asleep at 8 or 9. Woke up a couple times during the night, then woke up again at 5:30. This time I thought I would actually get up and start preparing to begin another day, but I went back to sleep for several more hours. (This shit is incredibly tiring.) I finally got all my stuff packed and resumed walking at 1:00. Right now I'm on a US route that parallels I-16, in Pooler, GA. Not trying to get a ride or anything; just gonna keep walking the rest of the day. I might shoot for 15 miles. The temperature is in the 50s today, which makes for pretty good walking weather. --> Now four
days into the new trek, I still have not used the camcorder. Also haven't seen b-ball this weekend.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Doing a 180

My plan as of this morning was to continue walking south on US 17, but that plan has changed at least twice already. Upon reaching Midway, GA, with no water, I stopped at Angie's Diner to ask if they would refill my water bottles, then I ended up buying lunch there. Soon after leaving the diner, I came upon the intersection of US 17 and US 84. Planning to stay on 17, I instead took a right (west) on 84. I took a break after a mile, then decided to turn around and go either east or south. When I returned to the intersection, I kept going east toward I-95. Now that I'm almost at I-95, I think I'll just set up camp before night falls, so I can try to get a ride early tomorrow, probably toward Atlanta, even though ATL is the opposite direction from where I've been heading. I don't care right now, though, because I have literally hundreds of bug bites on my arms and legs, from mosquitoes and
sand gnats. Also, the sun is killing me; I certainly don't want to go any farther south right now.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Day 2

I'm learning quickly that the second day of a new trek is always the toughest. Treadmill conditioning with 40 lbs on my back is not the same as walking in the hot Georgia sun with 60 lbs. Yesterday's pain has become today's megapain. I'm already getting sunburned, too, so that's no fun. With two Big Ten teams playing in the Sweet 16, I'm hoping to catch some basketball tonight, but I have no idea if I'll be anywhere near a town with a bar or restaurant. Not too worried about it, though. If I can't make it somewhere to see the games, I'll just try to find a good spot to camp before 10:00. --> When walking the American roads, you see a lot of different things on the side of the road--cigarette boxes, roadkill, tools, etc.--but there is one item I notice more than anything else: dental floss on a stick. I see those things everywhere, in every state. Apparently America's collective oral
hygiene habits are better than I thought, but does everyone really need to throw them out the window?

Heading somewhere

Well, I'm outta Savannah. Yesterday at 11:00, after Jay went to work at the Olive Garden, I did a small load of laundry, took a shower, and prepared to leave. I was ready to go at 2:00, but I didn't leave until 2:50. Walked 2.5 miles to Applebee's and waited for Jay to show up for his night shift there. With Jay as my server, I ordered a couple half-price happy-hour apps and chatted with him whenever he was not busy. At 7:00 it was time for me to begin wandering the lonely road once again, so I said goodbye to Jay and walked away from town on Abercorn, which becomes Georgia Rte 204. A little way down 204, a Savannah Police officer stopped and told me I can't walk on 204 because it's a freeway. He then gave me a ride about 5 miles, to US 17, which parallels I-95. From there I walked south 6 miles (through swamp?) and found a spot to sleep. Beautiful walking weather yesterday, during both
daylight and darkness. I walked about 12.5 miles total. The hair almost certainly will be gone soon.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Leaving Savannah

Having visited with Jay for just over a week now, I'll be heading out of Savannah tomorrow (Thursday) to begin Aimless 2008. I've had some fun with Jay and I've met some cool people, but mostly I've felt like a hostage because Jay is out of control. His driving scares the shit out of me sometimes and he pretty much lives for alcohol. (It's way beyond that, but I can't elaborate much from my phone.) If he doesn't make some serious changes in his behavior patterns, the shit is going to hit the fan from about five different angles at the same time. I don't think there's anything I can do, other than write this blog post, to help him. It may be a few weeks before he gets a chance to read this, but I know he will eventually read it. So Jay: It's time to get your shit together, OK. You need to stop drinking. Alcohol is not the solution to your problems; it's the CAUSE of your problems. I
wanted to leave days ago, but I stayed in hopes that my presence would help you. It hasn't helped.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Almost gone

Jay and I will be leaving for Savannah in a couple hours. I imagine I'll be on the road for real in about a week.

--
Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Saturday, March 15, 2008

Did it!

I did it! I just walked 12 miles in less than 4 hours (3:57), slightly uphill the entire way, carrying 4 lbs more than I had been carrying on previous days (probably about 50 lbs).

Don't ever be stupid enough to do this. Now that I've done it, I'm never going to do it again.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

March Madness

Fuck basketball. I'm going crazy this month with the anticipation of riding freight trains.

In the 8 months since my first and only ride on a freight train, I really haven't had much of an urge to go out and hop another one. But lately that's all I want to do.

I want to ride the Tehachapi Loop. I want to tunnel through mountains. I want to travel on wheels without having to be someone's companion. I want to see how I react next time I get caught by a bull or a cop. I want to figure out how the hell to climb into a boxcar without having someone around to give me a boost. (Those things are 4 or 5 feet off the ground, with no ladders.) I want to meet more hobos. I want to accept a ride to a truly random destination. I want to learn, on my own, how to get around efficiently and illegally via freight trains.

I also want to approach Amtrak conductors at train stations and ask them to let me ride for free.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Friday, March 14, 2008

The bubble

As an Ohio State fan, if I was on the NCAA tournament selection committee, I would leave out the Buckeyes.

Badger, I've been meaning to say for months that you are by far the coolest poster on "those boards." (By the way, if my home team doesn't make the tourney, go Badgers. Shit, dude, I rooted for Wiscy vs. UNLV last year even though I went to UNLV. I bet Jeff did, too. So did you, Jeff?)

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Maneless Aimless?

I've been seriously considering shaving my head before I leave Jay's place in Savannah. That would be a good time to do it because my face and scalp will still be the same color. (If I wait a month, my scalp will still be 100 percent honkey white, but my face will be brown or purple.) Having no hair would make it much easier to stay clean, too, and I also would not have to constantly lug a pound of sweat in my ponytail.

But I love my hair! Especially since I pulled it back the other night and asked my mom to snip about three inches off the end of the ponytail. I've been wanting to try that for years. It turned out to be a quick, easy, good haircut, which slopes downward toward the front when not pulled back. It's not quite as easy as Hollywood would have you believe, though, like in New Jack City, when Nino's thug quickly snips the mafia guy's ponytail. In reality, it takes at least a dozen small cuts to get through the whole pipe.

I've had long hair for about 12 of the last 15 years.

I was pretty impressed with my feat of having walked 11 miles in 4 hours and 20 minutes last week, but that turned out to be just a qualifying time once Monday came around. On Monday I walked 12 miles in 4 hours and 18 minutes. I began by walking 4.5 miles, then taking a 20-minute break. After the break, I walked another 4.5 miles and took another 20-minute break before finishing with an additional 3-mile "block."

That's a huge improvement. By consistently walking faster than my target pace of 3 mph, I ended up walking an additional mile. (Oh yeah, I also set the tread mill at a slight upward incline, which I hadn't done previously.)

But yesterday, after running around all over Columbus from 9:30 to 2:30, I tried to one-up Monday's distance and time. At 3:00, I started by walking 7 straight miles--still at an upward incline--before taking a 30-minute break. Walking at least 3.3 mph the entire time, it took about 2 hours and 5 minutes (compared to 2 hours and 20 minutes at my usual pace).

My objective after the break was to walk at least another 5 miles at 3.3 mph or faster. Feeling surprisingly good as I resumed my trek to nowhere, I walked even faster than I'd walked before the break, often keeping the track moving at 3.5 to 3.7 mph. After hitting the 10-mile mark three minutes ahead of the pace I'd set for the first 5 miles, my goal became clear: I wanted to hit 12 miles by 7:00 (4 total hours, including my break). If I could manage to reach the 12-mile mark by 7:00, it would be like I never even took the 30-minute break.

Approaching the end of the 11th mile, my ridiculously fast pace started catching up with me. I was hurting; mostly in the ball of my right foot. In 1990 or 1991, after my second stress fracture of a sesamoid bone in the right foot, I chose to have the small bone surgically excised. Despite having no bone to fracture in 2008, all this walking creates the same sensation I experienced before the excision. If I only had a custom orthotic, I think it would increase my daily mileage capacity by at least a couple miles.

Anyway, I decided to stop at 6:43, having walked 11 miles. I could have made it another mile, but there was no good reason to keep it up. I'm not trying to break any records; I'm just trying to condition myself right now, and I've realized I'm in much better condition than I could have imagined.

So even though I didn't reach my goal of 12 miles in 4 hours, I still walked 11 miles in 3 hours and 43 minutes. In comparison, just a week earlier I was happy with 11 miles in 4 hours and 20 minutes. That's a difference of 37 minutes.

Just a week ago, the bad ligament in my left ankle was giving me a lot of trouble, causing my foot to come down flat after only a couple miles. (For those who don't already know, I badly dislocated my left ankle on December 17, 2006 in Quartzsite, Arizona. I never saw a doctor about it, but I'm pretty sure I suffered a seriously torn ligament and probably some broken bones. This seems to be an injury I'll feel for the remainder of my life.) Anyway, my ankle has seen a dramatic improvement in the last week, probably resulting from strengthened muscles near the tear. That's good.

Inspired largely by the day I walked out of Springfield, Oregon with an imaginary Smashing Pumpkins' Gish CD playing in my head, I've been listening to various CDs while walking lately. It should come as no surprise that Gish is the first CD I played. I've also listened to other SP CDs--Adore, Mellon Collie disc 1 and disc 2, and part of Siamese Dream--as well as the Rentals, Weezer (blue album), and Radiohead (OK Computer).

It's interesting how music affects me while I walk. Certain songs and albums give me intense energy boosts, and for different reasons. I plan to write more about this phenomenon in more detail soon, but not right now.

I'm curious to see how some other CDs affect me while I walk. If I get a chance, I still want to "test" a few other CDs, including Tool (Undertow and/or Ænema), Iron Maiden's Powerslave, Jane's Addiction (Nothing Shocking and/or Ritual de lo Habitual), the Elevator Drops, and maybe some others (Ben Folds Five?).

Wish I had some Megadeth!!! Oh my god, Megadeth would probably push me to 15 miles in 4 hours. I don't know a lot of Megadeth's stuff, but I know their guitar composition is brilliant. They rock in at least two ways: 1) They just FUCKIN' RAWK!!!; and 2) They rock in the same way Tchaikovsky or Stravinsky or Ludwig van rocks.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Working the road

Anyone remember the passage I quoted from On the Road a couple months ago, about how much work is involved in hitchhiking? In an interview, Wes Modes had a similar response:

1. How long have you been hopping trains? What motivated you to try it for the first time?

Like a lot of kids, I started hopping freight trains because I needed to get around and had no money. In my case, I had hitchhiked around, but it is exhausting. You have to stand by the side of the road for hours vibing people, saying with your smile, "I am not a serial killer, I am not a serial killer."

Then when you get a ride, people expect to entertain or be entertained. You have to stay awake to either talk to the driver or listen to him or her talking. I fall asleep easily in a car as a passenger, so it was always torture. I've met great people hitchhiking, but it was exhausting. Discovering trainhopping was a huge relief. That was in 1992.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Hopping

From Wes Modes:

Freight-hopping. "It's a kick in the ass. It's a lot of fun," Duffy Littlejohn says. "It is one of the last red-blooded American adventures left." He should know--he wrote the book on it. Hopping Freight Trains in America (Sand River Press, 1993) is the definitive freight-hopper's how-to manual.

I need to get a copy of this book.

Man, I have a bunch of stuff to say, but I'm busy doing other things right now. I'm getting really excited about the prospect of hitting the road again soon. Think I'll probably ride some more freight trains, so I just started looking for information that'll help me become a better hobo.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Sunday, March 09, 2008

Aimless 2008

Unless something really weird happens, Aimless 2008 will begin in two or three weeks. On March 18th I'll be leaving central Ohio to help my buddy Jay move some stuff from Columbus to Savannah, then I'll probably visit Jay for about a week (or possibly a little longer). Finally, whenever Jay gets sick of me and kicks me out, Aimless 2008 will kick off from Savannah, Georgia.

So where will I go from Savannah?

I don't know. How bout Florida?

Nah, really. I don't care where I go from there. I might go west from Savannah or I might go south (to Florida), then west. All I know is I won't be going north and I can't go east. I figure I'll probably end up going toward Arizona and California, via New Orleans and Texas. Since only Lew had anything to say about my fund-raising idea, I'm just gonna forget about that for now. ("Here ya go, New Orleans: I've managed to raise 23 cents for your rebuilding efforts! Use it wisely.")

I walked 11 miles in 4 hours and 20 minutes yesterday, hitting the 8.5-mile mark in just over three hours. 8.5 miles is a relevant figure because that's the same distance I walked on each of the first two days of Aimless last April. On Day 1 I managed to walk 8.5 miles in five or six hours, but Day 2 was a different story.

Because I didn't physically condition myself before leaving last April, the evening of Day 1 marked the beginning of several days of intense pain. I felt fine for maybe the first five miles on Day 1, but the next 3.5 miles sucked. Then, that night, I slept on uneven railroad ballast. (That wouldn't be so bad now, but I didn't have a sleeping pad then.) My body was not happy with me that night. I was in such pain that I couldn't even roll over.

On Day 2 I got up early and began walking. I walked all day (with a lot of breaks), but I only managed 8.5 miles. More railroad ballast for a mattress that night.

Here's the point: While it took over 12 hours for me to walk 8.5 miles last April 23rd, I did it in only 3 hours yesterday.

Even though I have been very inactive the last five months, having gained at least ten pounds, I'm surprisingly still in pretty good condition. I would have expected all the muscle in my legs to disappear by now, but it's mostly still there.

Getting back to the 11 miles in 4 hours and 20 minutes: That's an insane pace, even for someone in awesome shape. In comparison, on the day I walked 28 miles, I didn't hit the 10-mile mark until 7 hours into the day. That's largely because I didn't think about shooting for 30 miles until several hours into the day. But if I can kick off a long walking day with an 11-mile start in just 4:20, I'll get my 30-mile day. Georgia in April might be a good time to try it.

Having said all that, the first ten miles doesn't mean much. I don't know why, but ten miles is the point where things start getting interesting. Regardless of whether I'm in good shape or bad shape, the feet start hurting about ten miles into a long walk. There's only one way to fight the pain of sore feet--take a long break--but there is no time for long breaks when you're shooting for a 30-mile day.

Which is why I'm so impressed with 11 miles in 4 hours and 20 minutes. If I start walking at 6:00 AM and make it 11 miles by 10:20, I can take a rejuvenating two-hour break and still be on pace to hit 30 miles well before midnight. Then, if I'm able to repeat the feat after the break, I'll be 22 miles down the road at about 4:40 PM, leaving over 7 hours to walk another 8 miles.

I don't care how boring this stuff may be; I'm going to get a 30-mile day before May.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

We can't be this stupid

Is it really possible for a candidate to run on the platforms of change and experience at the same time? Isn't that like saying, "I promise you I'll change"?

I mean, if you're running on a platform of experience, you're saying, "I've put this country where it is today." But if you're running on a platform of change, you're clearly implying that you think the country has been going in the wrong direction. If you add it all together, it's just like saying, "My experience has put this country in the wrong direction."

So which is it, lady? YOU CAN'T BE BOTH!!!

"...but I'll change."

Oh, I hear you. And I'm supposed to believe you?

(Of course, you don't actually have any more experience than the other guy, anyway. But that's a whole different lie.)

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

A long walk

Yesterday I sat and thought. That's all I did. I thought about pizza and Aimless and Missy and probably some other things, too.

You may be wondering, "Who's Missy?"

Missy is figuratively and literally the girl of my dreams. That's all you need to know. (I've mentioned her before; long before I ever hit the road.)

Anyway, I've been really bummed out lately. I need to get out of here, and Aimless has become just about pointless, so I've come up with perhaps a new direction for Aimless: I think I'm going to walk from here all the way to New Orleans, in an attempt to raise money to help Katrina victims.

From what I understand, New Orleans is STILL a freaking wasteland, and that's just not right. This is the United States of America. Almost three years after the hurricane, when people go to New Orleans, they expect to see a reasonably fixed-up city, but it's not fixed up. Not even close.

If I do this... Unlike most charitable organizations, every cent I raise will be used to help Katrina victims. I won't keep any of it for myself. And unlike Aimless, I think people might actually get behind something like this.

So what do you think?

Oh yeah, I walked three miles today on a tread mill, carrying my backpack (loaded to about 50 lbs). After a break, I walked another mile without the backpack. Interestingly, I can't comfortably walk any faster without the backpack than I can walk with it; maybe 0.1 MPH faster. (The difference is that I can walk all day without the backpack. With the backpack, I need to rest about half an hour for every hour I walk.) I'm going to get myself in a little better condition before I leave this time (if I ever do actually leave).

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Shit fuck crap

Sometimes I wonder if maybe I have a mild form of Tourette Syndrome.

Donkey balls!

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Friday, February 22, 2008

One pizza myth (of many)

From some web site:

Step 5. Try spinning the dough in the air. This is certainly not required, but it's a lot of fun! It also helps to make the dough more round, as the centrifugal force causes equal amounts of pressure to be thrown out in all directions, helping the crust to form into a perfectly round shape.

This seems to make sense, but it's not entirely true. Having tossed thousands of dough balls, I can tell you with all certainty that perfectly round [hand-tossed] pizzas emerge only from perfectly round dough balls (unless you use a round template to trim the dough).

If you start with a round dough ball, you end up with a round pizza. But if you start with a square dough ball, you're gonna end up with a mostly square pizza, no matter how many times you toss it.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Thursday, February 21, 2008

February

For approximately exactly the last 21 days, when I've watched hockey games on a certain regional sports channel, I've noticed a series of public service announcements for Black History Month. In these "ads," a black man named Kendall Lewis tells a short story about one of many historically significant black athletes, like Jesse Owens, Jim Brown, or Jackie Robinson. When he finishes telling the short story, a voiceover kindly informs me that "McDonald's is a proud sponsor of Black History Month, celebrating black history 365 days a year."

So I'm sure you'll be airing more of these ads 9 days from now, right, McDonald's? Or maybe you'll be funding a neverending series of books on black history? Yes, that must be it.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Some random stuff

For those of you who thought I'd given up on the pizzeria opportunity a few weeks ago, I hadn't. I gave it another chance. (The only way you would have known is if you'd read the comments to a previous post.) But as I said last night, I'm pretty sure it's all over now.

I've recently taken a new direction in my quest to make the perfect pizza. About two weeks ago, I created a naturally leavened starter (usually termed "sourdough" starter). To begin the starter, I simply mixed 4 ounces of water with 4 ounces of flour, adding no yeast or sugar and keeping the mixture covered loosely overnight. The following day I removed all but 4 ounces of the mixture, added another 4 ounces each of water and flour, then stirred the new mixture. Each of the next few days, I removed half of the mixture and added another 4 and 4.

After the first couple days, the mixture became slightly bubbly and had a somewhat "sour" smell (clearly indicating that it had aquired some wild yeast), but it essentially did not rise in the bowl. It behaved that way for a few more days, but on about the fifth or sixth day, it took off (probably because I placed it atop the oven while the oven was hot).

Oh yeah! Now we have some serious fermentation. At this point, the mixture had doubled in volume, contained lots of pretty bubbles, and had a strong smell of alcohol. With this sudden burst of wild yeast activity, I began feeding the starter twice each day. Early in the day I would remove all but 4 ounces of the starter and add 8 ounces of water and 8 ounces of flour. Then, sometime after midnight, I'd do it again.

For about the first week, I'd just dump the part of the mixture I'd removed, but at this point I was ready to start using it. So for about a week, now, I've been using 8 or 12 ounces of starter every time I make pizza dough. Because the starter is always a 1:1 ratio of water and flour (by weight), I know exactly how much water and flour to add whenever I make a new batch of dough. For example: If I begin with 12 ounces of starter, I need to add another 10 ounces of flour and another 3 ounces of water for a moderately soft dough. But if I begin with only 8 ounces of starter, I need to add an additional 2 ounces of both flour and water (12 ounces of flour and 5 ounces of water). Regardless of how much starter I use, I'll almost always add 1-1/4 tsp of salt.

There are two reasons why this process is so easy: 1) Every batch of dough I make is based on 1 pound (or 16 oz.) of flour; and 2) I forgot the second reason... Measuring ingredients by weight (rather than volume) makes everything 100 times easier and more consistent. (The only reason I measure salt by volume is because I don't use enough salt to get an accurate measurement of weight. If I was making a pizzeria-size batch, I would measure everything by weight.)

Now that I'm using this starter to leaven my pizza dough, my dough consists of only three ingredients: flour, water, and salt. No yeast, no sugar, no oil.

Is that cool or what? (If you're not sure: Yes, it is cool.)

Now that my starter is thriving, I keep it in the fridge (rather than on the counter). By keeping my starter in the fridge, I don't have to feed it every day (because cool temperatures retard fermentation). Instead, I only need to feed the starter once a week. However, because I make a new batch of dough every two or three days, naturally I feed it about every three days.

You should try it.

Well, I was going to mention a couple other things here (like what you asked about, Jeff), but I think I'll just call it a day for now.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

All things stupid

Yeah, uh, it looks like the pizzeria opportunity is no more. And I'll tell ya what: I don't care. In fact, it was me who ended the talks, sorta. I really wanted to work something out, but someone's girlfriend was unwilling to make a really small concession that would have made the rest of her life a lot easier.

Like "Someone's Girlfriend," 90 percent of small business owners base their business decisions on hope and faith. (The other ten percent actually succeed.) There are a lot of people out there who fancy themselves as businesspeople, yet don't know the first thing about business. It's funny, sad, and disappointing all at the same time. Unlike most small business owners, I'm not stupid enough to accept a deal that puts me in a no-win situation.

So it looks like I'll be hitting the road again soon, but not for at least a few weeks because I have over ten pounds of Grande mozzarella in the fridge right now that I'm not going to waste or freeze. Whenever I do leave again, I don't know if it will be Aimless or if it will just be my personal, private escape from all things stupid.

Aimless is the one thing on this planet that's all mine, and I might just keep it that way.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Regarding Florida

"John Doe" from Florida e-mailed me this morning with the following message:

i'd just wanted to say that i graduated from a florida high school and the people that were useless, alcoholic, slackers with no morals whatsoever, never attempted anything in their life, are the ones who are the police officers. i dont know how this happened. the police system in florida is terrible, racist, and overall not kosher. i'm sorry you had to deal with that and hope that your later travels to florida aren't so terrible. there are some good people...i promise! (just avoid confederate flag bumper stickers)

"John" did not include his e-mail address on the contact form, so I decided to respond here.

John,

I know there are lots of good people in Florida. I just had a frustratingly tough time while I was there. I'm glad you realize I have not judged all Floridians based on the actions of a few.

There is a lot more I want to say here, but I can't seem to spit it out right now. Thanks for your feedback.

Ryan

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Thursday, February 07, 2008

Jersey boy

If things work out right, I'm going to hang out tonight with someone I met on the road last summer. I've mentioned Jason Stanish at least once before on this blog, and I also uploaded a [bad] picture of him shortly after I met him in early July at the Madison, Wisconsin TA. As a company driver, he couldn't give me a ride, but he did let me sleep in his top bunk (even though he's not allowed to do that, either).

Anyway, Jason called me a little after noon today from somewhere north of Atlanta. He's bringing a load to Columbus and should be here sometime this evening, as long as he's able to stay legal. (I figure he's probably at about the Tennessee-Kentucky state line right now.) The cool thing is that his company has a terminal right down the street from what used to be my longtime hangout bar/restaurant. (I rarely hang out or drink anymore.) It's about a 15-minute drive for me.

If he makes it all the way to Columbus, I'll probably invite Jason to stay at the house tonight. I want to make him a pizza, partly because I've been making the most incredible pizzas lately but also because I'd love to hear what New Jersey taste buds have to say about my pizza. (Like New York, there is good pizza in New Jersey, so Jason might have some useful feedback about my pizza.)

In case you're wondering: Yes, Jason does think I'm an ungrateful piece of shit.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence

Monday, February 04, 2008

New York state of mind

Here are a couple reasons why I love New York City: 1) New Yorkers actually walk, read, and think; 2) The major pizza chains have been almost completely unable to set up shop in Metropolis.

So why are the Big 3 pizza chains so invisible in NYC? Because New Yorkers aren't mindless consumers. (Remember, they read and think.) Most New Yorkers can't even comprehend how the rest of the country bears to swallow Pizza Hut, Domino's, and Papa John's.

Oh, so New Yorkers are stupid because they can't comprehend anything, right?

No way. If you can't figure out why chain pizza blows, maybe you should schedule a trip to New York. It's the only place I'll actually pay for pizza.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
You can contact me at 614-738-3867.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Thooper!

Wow, what a game!

I've been kinda rooting for the Giants during the playoffs, mostly because they played the Patriots so close in Game 16 after the Patriots destroyed everyone else on their schedule. And with Tom Brady's arrogant response to Plaxico Burress's prediction several days ago, I couldn't help but root for the Giants tonight, too. (Yeah, Brady, the Giants had no chance to hold you to only 17 points, did they? Yet they only scored 17 points and still beat you. Ha Ha.)

Way to go, Giants. Great game.

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
You can contact me at 614-738-3867.

Friday, February 01, 2008

Nightmares

A few nights ago my buddy Jeff called me. As we talked about food and restaurants, he mentioned a BBC show called Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares. The title sounded familiar to me, but I had no idea what the show was about.

After Jeff described Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares to me, it reminded me of a show I used to watch on Food Network called Restaurant Makeover. Here are the basic premises of Restaurant Makeover:

Independent restaurateur realizes he or she is in deep shit, so he or she contacts Restaurant Makeover, begging for help.
Restaurant Makeover sends a chef and a designer to the failing restaurant (along with a camera crew) to assess the situation.
Following assessment and consultation, the restaurateur decides how much money he or she is willing to invest in the makeover, then Restaurant Makeover matches the owner's investment up to a maximum of something like $20,000. (If the owner contributes $15,000 to the project, then Restaurant Makeover puts in another $15,000. But if the owner contributes $30,000, Restaurant Makeover tops out at $20,000. Something like that, anyway.)

Yeah, Food Network used to not suck.

Anyway, since Jeff told me about Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares, I've managed to catch four episodes, and I love it! The premise of Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares is as follows: You and your restaurant are in deep shit, so you called me, Gordon Ramsay, a proven successful chef and businessman, to come here and work my magic because you realize that 1) You're losing your ass, and 2) I know how to save your ass.

Although it is kind of similar to Restaurant Makeover, it has plenty of differences. First of all, it's an hour long (rather than half an hour). Second, the star (Chef Gordon Ramsay) is a filthy-mouthed, no-bullshit motherfucker. Sometimes his communication style is a little too, um, let's say, uh, sometimes he's a real asshole for no apparent reason. But mostly he's honest, straightforward, and reasonable. He's there to fix a problem, and fixing that problem is his only objective.

In every episode I've seen so far, Gordon Ramsay proves that independent restaurant owners tend to be the stupidest people on this planet. Everything he says makes complete sense, but even though the owners know they're doing something horribly wrong--even though they're about to lose everything--most of the owners become combative and refuse to follow Gordon's advice. Some of the owners eventually overpower their huge egos enough to follow Gordon's advice, but some of them don't.

And you know what ultimately happens to each group, respectively? Yup, the listeners win and the non-listeners lose.

I tried doing something kind of like what Gordon Ramsay does. I've offered my services to several failing pizzerias, essentially for free, in an effort to help them turn their huge failure into success, partly because I like helping people and partly because it was an opportunity for me to prove that my skills, talents, and intellect are pretty freakin' valuable.

As you may already know, I never got shit from it, nor did I ever get a chance to prove anything about myself. All I got was ripped off.

For example, when I went to Charleston, South Carolina, thinking I'd finally found the right opportunity, I quickly learned that I was dealing with the two stupidest people alive. (I can only blame myself for failing to recognize this side of their personalities before heading to SC.) After busting my ass for them, usually off the clock, and sharing very valuable ideas with them, all they did was attack me. Like Gordon Ramsay, I cared more about their restaurant than they did. Even though I made it very clear from the beginning that my objective was to fix things that needed fixed, they apparently expected me to perpetuate a process that generates $200 a day in sales.

Some people just don't get it. $200 a day is not good. $200 a day barely pays for the cost of sales. Forget about paying for labor and utilities and all that other stuff (like the elusive "owner's salary"). You simply can't do it.

If you only bring in $200 a day, it's because you're doing something VERY wrong. If you want that to change, you must stop doing things wrong and start doing things right. If you can't figure out what you're doing wrong but you are lucky enough to find someone who can figure it out, don't fuck that person over.

I didn't fail Sonny's Pizza. Sonny's Pizza failed themselves. When you refuse to allow people to help you, you cannot be helped. I learned from it; they didn't.

Sonny's Pizza no longer exists. (I never got paid for my time on the clock, either.)

(Oh, I'm just dying to find out how and why this post makes me ungrateful and negative. So hit me, anonymouses.)

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Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
You can contact me at 614-738-3867.