Walking and Writing Go Together, Sort Of, Kind Of, Not Really:

Stardate: 04.10.2010

Writing and walking are interrelated in that walking gives you plenty of time to think about writing, and you see and experience plenty of things to write about, but the two endeavors remain more or less mutually exclusive. I can write while walking, but it is likely to result in tripping, or running into something (like the end of Susanne's stick that is often held parallel to the ground at approximately the height of my crotch), or getting run over because I'm not looking where I'm going, or some other equally unfavorable result. Furthermore, if I write while I walk I am seeing the page, and the past I am writing about rather than the scenery I am passing, and it is also difficult to take photos while walking and writing at the same time.

 addition, my writing times have been constrained by the necessities of maintaining forward momentum on this trip, as well as by all the other exciting and/or necessary things to do during a day on the road. Things like cooking for four on a single propane burner half buried in the sand to prevent it from tipping over while the wind tries to blow it out and season one's repast with grit at the same time, or setting up a tent while the wind tries to turn it into a kite, or lying in the sun with your eyes closed and absorbing warmth on a chilly spring afternoon, or capturing canine skulls and snakes in the wild (though admittedly I have only captured one of each so far),

                                                                          or taking pictures of anything and everything even vaugely interesting in subject or composition,

or painting on my denim jacket and writing quotes on the sleeves with permanent marker. Let us not forget smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee, herbifying before dinner, talking trash with fellow walkers, reading novels and bibles, creating sculpture using sand, stones, and sticks, or giving and receiving back rubs after a long day under the enormous weight of my pack, sleeping to the sound of surf and wind, dodging traffic on the highway, dodging bikes on the bikepath, wading in the ocean, contemplating my navel,

and endless other edifying pursuits up to and including eating a pound and a half of candy in one sitting.

All of this excitement has therefore caused me to fall behind on writing, though I have wrtitten a bit of poetry and such longhand, and I will eventually transcribe such into digital format and post it in the appropriate places. Lack of power sources and internet connections has also taken a toll, half the time my cellphone doesn't even work, and the computer's battery is only good for about two hours between charges. Nonetheless, I must persevere and communicate at least the gist of our adventures to the intrepid reader.

Since I last posted much has transpired. We were still in Santa Cruz then, now we are in Pacifica, and the journey is a tale indeed. On Friday, the 2nd of April we headed into Santa Cruz from our camp at Natural Bridges and established ourselves at an outside table belonging to the Safeway Starbucks on Mission St. From there I uploaded some photos, we charged devices, and Susanne contacted friend Anne who came to meet us there.

It started raining again as we joined Anne and her husband Chris for lunch at a nearby taqueria, then she dropped us off downtown at a thrift store. Got a book there, and Susanne got something or other, then we walked down to Trader Joe's to stock up on groceries on our way to bus stop. Before shopping we saw that the Art and History Museum was free on Fridays and had a surf art exibit going on and we were bummed because we thought that we'd have to skip it if we were going to catch bus to North County. Turned out that we missed one bus and the next didn't leave until 7:15pm, so we stopped in another thrift store where I picked up a weatherproof jacket for four doillars, and then we got to spend three hours at the museum and that was way cool, particularly since Art is kinda the point of this expedition.

Anyway, we enjoyed the museum, then took a bus to Davenport, arriving near dark, and started hiking North looking for a good camp spot. Came across this small beach access on a short side road off the one, and pitched our tents on the grass near the pit toilets since it was already nearly ten and we didn't know what the tide was going to be like. In the morning, we moved tents down to beach, made breakfast, and hung out reading and writing and such, at about 10am James Comfort texted me saying he was on the way, and I sent back info on what bus to take to meet us. He called when he got off in Davenport and I walked out to the one to meet him and guide him in.

We hung out some more, built a sand sculpture with sticks and rocks included, and then hiked a couple of miles before finding a good spot to camp on the beach at a place called Pelican Rock. J.C. Had never met Susanne or Nick in person, but he fit right in like I figured he would. Easter Morning, we lounged through the morning, and started walking about 11:30, then it started raining and we walked in it for hours. Wound up making coffee and rice under the eves of a State wildlife reserve bathroom at Nuevo Anno, then hung out in information center.

After a while, Susanne talked a ranger into giving us a ride to the Pigeon Point Lighthouse Youth Hostel. Susanne's Mom generously funded beds for us, and we all were in one room, the other two rooms occupied by a nice family from France with two adorable and inquisitive little girls, and a couple from Washington or something like that. We all got hot showers, I made a fantastic dinner in a real kitchen, got online briefly but couldn't do anything useful, then we played Scrabble (my favorite boardgame, YAY!) and I won. Then everyone else went to sleep and I took another shower.

Gotta Go! But I'll be back soon with next installment of the adventure...peace out y'all.