another post...other times

[curmugeon]

Homeless... I see too many every day, their shopping carts or backpacks hold all they have left.

I've seen indignity thrust upon these people as their carts are unceremoniously dumped on the sidewalk and the cart tossed into the back of a truck by a shopping cart recovery company.

I wonder how it is to be thrust on the street seeking shelter from a storm?

I've only had a few occasions in my life where I was left searching for  place to sleep. I had wheels both times, a motorcycle, and I traveled to the woods, where a large stack of wood provided something to guard my back and a place where I could hide in plain sight. It was only the next morning when workmen arriving to start their day woke me and I left the area virtually un-noticed. The other time I was rousted from my sleep by police and told to keep moving, it was not a 'welcome wagon' experience. A check for outstanding warrants while I sat on the ground, harsh words, a shove, and being followed by the police to the edge of town.

I can sympathize with  the homeless. Trying to sleep and keep dry under an improvised tent, made from my poncho. Heating some water on a Sterno stove, to make tea. Wishing for something warm in my stomach. Going to a laundromat late at night to wash a few clothes and dry those wet from the rain. A warm place for a while, a place to stay, to wait for the sun rise an to move on down the road.  On some of my 'travels' while much younger and while on disability, I would seek the 'free' campgrounds, sometimes remote, but always tried  to live cheaply, instant coffee, vienna sausage, oat meal, my diet was limited, money was for gasoline and a way down the road. I would travel between hospital stays, drove my doctors nuts. I would start out with a few hundred dollars, leave California for weeks, go to Yuma, camp in a park, then on to Quartzite, a stay in the desert, up along the Colorado River, then over into Arizona again, Williams, Grand Canyon, Flagstaff another night in the woods, Page and Navajo Country, a gracious people. Onward to Jacob Lake, North Rim, another night outside. Zion in the rain, watching th creek rise, rain turns to snow. Riding a motorcycle is a way to experience the environment. Sitting alone in the desert while you change a tire, on a lonely road and after hours pass, not another car is seen. You had to be self sufficient, you were on your own. Using used newspaper under my jacket to keep warm.

A stop in Vegas, plenty of warm places to stay, if you had money. Finding a place to safely leave my motorcycle, a quick hot meal, a casino bargain breakfast. Down to Lake Mead, sleep on the beach. Back across the desert. The town of Searchlight, heading south, back roads to Ludlow, Old Route 66, down south some more, catch the road from Vidal Junction to 29 Palms, a lonely road. Last gas, and the last tank back to Anza.

My parents and doctors always worried, but I was living, as I had heard many times, that I could live a long life or die tomorrow. My choice was to live.

Those trips allowed me to experience America. I traveled through California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, South and North Dakota, Oregon and Washington. I 'used up' a few motorcycles along the way. Over 80,000 miles on a Honda 400/4, another 80,000 on a Honda 450, 90,000 on a Honda CX-500. I spent the 4th of July 1976 in Clark Fork Idaho. I spent the night in a saloon in Idaho City Idaho. I fished everywhere I went in my later trips. Crater Lake, Mt. St. Helens the summer after the eruption. Driving down I-80 followed by a plume of volcanic ash rising from the pavement as my wheels headed west.

I have memories, pictures in my head, remembering the people I met along the way. Those were good times.

Comments

[cathy-edgett.livejournal.com]

I am touched. I wonder if you have ever thought of writing a book. You draw me in. You are so compassionate. You have done what so many of us consider.

I was re-reading this morning your comment on death, on how it is just a continuation of our journey. You have so much of importance to say and you are so kind, moral and ethical. You are a man we need to hear.

I hope you keep writing your experiences and thoughts.

[n6vfp.livejournal.com]

At the time I was on disability, I had been diagnosed with some of the more severe forms of systemic lupus erythemastosis and had been told on occasion that I may not live to see 40 years old. In sort of a selfish act, I decided that I was going to retire but being on a small disability check I was also going to be poor. I had accumulated quite a stash of funds while being in the hospital for 18 weeks so I went out and bought a motorcycle. I traveled, a lot. Meanwhile, during these travels I did have occasional relapses, either my kidneys would decide to stop working well, or I'd have angina, or I would have small seizures. I didn't let that stop me. I wore my medic alert bracelet and kept on going. I'd budget $10 a day for food, gas, and a place to sleep. Sometimes one of these items had to be skipped because of some unforeseen event. I remember one trip where I developed an oil leak and it got so bad I was adding a quart of oil every 100 miles. I sat in a rainy parking lot behind a gas station in Hoquiam Washington changing the seal using borrowed tools, the motorcycle on its side on the parking lot. I got it fixed, the repair held, and I moved on that night to somewhere on the Olympic Peninsula. I lived what others dreamed. I was blessed in that way. I share when I get inspired, and that comes occasionally late at night when there is silience and solitude and time to think.

[cathy-edgett.livejournal.com]

May late at night continue to inspire you, to offer "silence and solitude and time to think," so we can share in more of your path.

I am touched, changed.

Testimony

[flyvapnet.livejournal.com]

Thank you for sharing memories of those often-difficult yet priceless experiences. You're an interesting man, Alan.

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