Manifest Destiny: America from the Bottom Up - 42 - Salem, MO - States Report Card

I took a chance with the risk of rain and left McD's at 12:30 am. I just really needed to sleep if it would be possible. Google Satellite showed a spot about 3,000 feet down the road where I might be able to nest. But, before I got to it, I noticed a dark pathway that led behind an old closed-up furniture warehouse. Something told me to take it and I'm glad I did.

Though it was filled with prickers and thick vines, it did lead to a large over-grown field. I followed its edge into a flat woodsy area of thin pine trees. It hadn't rained yet, but by the look of the sky, it definitely seemed inevitable.

Like I frequently do, I stood there unable to decide whether or not to make a tent out of the tarp. The just-in-case factor kicked in hard and the decision was made. I unhitched the bungee that held the tarp to the pack and then the bungees that wrapped around the tarp and my large rain coat. The two are always married to each other and I nearly had to peel them apart.

I unfolded the tarp and shook it out until it was flat on the ground. I should explain that it is essentially a tunnel, in that, it has its long edge duct taped and is open on each end, with grommets on one of the ends.

I wrap it with a 1/4" rope that I am then able to use to secure the grommet end. I ran the rope through the central grommet and secured the other end of the rope to a small tree, about three feet up. Then - having learned from my experience sleeping in the cemetery in Bridgeville PA - I placed my backpack in the open end along one side and my heavy rain coat on the other, which formed a triangular shape to the opening. In Bridgeville the foot-end of the tent was open and rain got into it. So, this time I used a bungee to fold up that end and wrap it tightly around the folded part.

From above this forms an elongated triangle with the wide open end attached to the tree and the foot-end coming to a point where the bungee is. The tarp-tent is wide enough on the open end to accommodate the backpack and also a space for me to lie down in the sleeping bag. Leaving the head-end open keeps condensation from my breath from forming on the inside and it was warm enough to leave it that way (about 40 F).

Once everything was safely inside the tent I pulled the sleeping bag out of its pocket in the backpack and unrolled it. I took off my shoes and crawled inside it, zipping it to within about two feet of my head. Then I pulled out my little rolled-up blanket and shoved it into the hood of my sleeping bag to use as a pillow.

It was quite comfortable. And as soon as I laid my head on the pillow I heard the first drops of rain hit the top of the tent. I smiled.

It was easy to fall asleep, though it came with a bit of trepidation wondering if the rain would soak through the tarp material. The time was now 1:30 am. I slept like a rock, waking up at 5:00 am. Cautiously I ran my hand along the top inside surface of the tarp and only felt some minor wetness. I smiled again and fell back asleep until 7:00 am.

Everything worked beautifully. I was so satisfied. I'd made my tent, stayed dry, slept with my boots off (a feat in itself!). The spot was perfect; protected from view in front by cut and fallen trees and sand piles, bordered by a large field on the back and side, and blessed with a large canopy of branches above.

There were no houses around the spot, nor driveways. When I woke up I simply disassembled things in reverse order, which went smoothly. I didn't leave until 9:00 am--a new first for late departure.
The rain had been light but steady. Though the tarp IS still wet right now, nothing else is. I'm very happy about this outcome. Something goes wrong nearly every time I make my nest and things are even worse when it rains. But *this* time everything worked as it should have and for once I actually conquered a night of rain.

If I've learned anything about this kind of camping it is that organization and having each piece of equipment with its own well-known storage space helps tremendously.

I apologize for such a mechanistic update, but I thought it would be good to leave an account of success, after so many harder times and outright failures.

I'm not sure what I will do about tonight. The temptation to simply stay in that spot was strong this morning, but tonight's rain is due to be MUCH worse (an inch within about two hours, late night). Tomorrow will be a steady rain all day, but with temps up to 60 F. I'll look into a room--there is an "inexpensive" motel here called "The Walnut Hole Inn" (perhaps an unfortunate name?).

The senior citizens are coming into this McD's in a steady stream. They are SO nice to each other and everyone else. It is a real meeting place.

We may often think of McD's as a tacky restaurant (and compared to the Red Barn BBQ it could be?), with some unhealthy food and typically indifferent service, but the social atmosphere is vibrant and living. There is a lot of love in this town and - as I've said - in this state.

To continue my anecdotes a bit further, on my way down the edge of that field this morning a bunch of trucks pulled into the adjacent business--this was THEIR property. I looked so out of place and awkward stumbling along that path. I thought for sure I was busted big time. I tried not to look over at these trucks and drivers, but I had no doubt they were watching me.

I turned back onto Rt. 19 heading back to McD's and heard one of them turn around and come up behind me. I was practicing what I would use as an excuse for being on their land. He slowed and rolled down his window. I looked over at him, and he asked very kindly, "Where ya headed?"
I said, "Just up to McDonald's..."

"Oh, OK..." he said, "Just wanted to know if you needed a ride in this rain, but it looks like you're all set." He simply smiled and drove on.

I happily shook my head with relief and amazement. When I reached McD's I got some breakfast and a gentleman came by my table and offered a coffee, since they had made an extra. I accepted and smiled again.

I wonder to myself if it is this small town, or Christian values; not the judgmental kind, but the sort that make folks feel comfortable when they are in awkward situations, happy when they are on the verge of sadness, wanted when they are lonely, secure when they are anxious.

I might say, hesitantly, that - even though I love the people of New England - they don't seem so naturally inviting and amicable. In fact, I have often felt uncomfortable at businesses in Maine if I stay too long or put the something in the wrong place. Here in Missouri you get used to the fact that you won't be bothered. Mainers sometimes let the rush and hustle of life overcome the basic need to extend dignity to each other. Men in Maine will tease each other, occasionally quite darkly. That doesn't happen here in the Mid West (at least from what I have observed). The tendency to be critical and judgmental about what others choose to do with their lives and even their appearance is also largely absent here.

I say all this with a sense that it would be unfair for me to tell you Mainers out there that you would do well to adopt the habits of Mid Westerners. I put myself in your place - as I had been, not having the opportunity to be immersed in the culture of this region of the country - and realize that I simply would not be able to understand the experiential difference in attitudes. My good brother Eduardo upon visiting Maine had told me about these phenomena but I didn't believe him. Now I do.
If I were to give an account of the states I have visited - imagining that the state itself could be summed up as a single personality - so far, I would say that...

* * * * * * *

MA was indifferent, fast-moving, sometimes cruel, but highly intellectual and surprisingly generous--albeit, in after-thought, rather than automatically. It is rich in material wealth and somewhat impoverished in moral character. One must be vigilant and wide awake when dealing with it, or be left on the side of the road wondering what has happened as it passes by.

RI was energetic, inviting, proud, hardworking and more naturally kind than its northern neighbors. It is aspiring to be wealthy, but one gets the feeling it won't be happy when it reaches that goal. It is old, but able to reinvent itself as time requires. One should never feel intimidated by its confidence and self-assured nature. It will easily stop what it's doing and lend a hand.

CT was hardly worth being with...very frankly. I felt invisible to it, ignored, sometimes unfairly treated, with a strange combination of extreme inner city poverty and ostentatious coastal wealth. It runs on automatic pilot, mechanistically, going through the motions without a great deal of reflection WHY. It may stop to help you out if your problem is obvious enough, but it is much more likely to unintentionally not see you at all. My good friend Carl lives there and he was the one very bright spot in my journey; an atypical ray of sunshine in a pale, overcast and insubstantial sky. If I were reporting to an avenging angel, I'm afraid the prognosis for recovery would not be encouraging.

PA was a good friend. It has the soul of a kind and understanding minister and the sense of humor that comes with a long and historical experience of dealing with serious matters in a straightforward way. The mix of "Dutch" and modern cultures works well, with a general understanding of how different people can complement each other and still stay true to their own separate belief systems. It is expansive in physical stature, but still able to be community minded. It would not only help you out if you needed it but also advise you how to stay of of trouble for next time.

* * * * * * *

I only skipped through OH and IN, and spent only one day in IL, which I found to be friendly, if somewhat guarded...

All of the above are, of course, big generalizations and I admit to being the least authority on these places. My experience has been cursory and tightly circumscribed by my transient passage through them.