Manifest Destiny: America from the Bottom Up - Day 8 - Part 4 - North Scituate, RI to West Greenwich, RI - The Hill

It was a pleasant enough walk out of Scituate. I passed over a bridge and through some very old winding streets until I reached The Hill.

It was after 12:00 pm by now and the clouds were rapidly moving over sun. The hill was exactly like Raymond had said it would be, but much, much worse. Had I known about just how long this inclined hike would drag on I would have searched out another route. But I was there and there wasn't any going back.

The Hill (which winds up a mountain) began with a teasing slight incline for about 1.5 miles. Then the angle headed up a few more degrees each 0.5 miles or so. That is the section that really took something out of me. It had to have dragged on for another 2 miles, maybe more.

As my walking stick clicked along the road, I began drifting... I focused on anything besides the strain I was undergoing.

The woods were filled with chipmunks, the ancient remains of giant Oak trees, stone walls and collapsed cattle pound walls, all kinds of rocks, different kinds of flowers... I always listening for the click, click, click of the stick. I know I'm too tired if I hear...click, click, click...scrape!

Finally, there was a relative leveling out. By relative I mean it was not an exponential rise anymore. I counted my footsteps as quarter beats. And then, I measured upon which footstep the click of my stick would fall. It turned out to be 5/4 time. On every fifth step, my stick would click. That figured out, I slowed down a bit so I could catch my breath, reducing the time signature to 4/4.

The woods that had been filled with chipmunks was long out of sight now. It was simply trees on either side of the road, and always the continuous climb. When I finally did reach the top I was thirsty and drank half of the Vitamin Water (having long since dispatched the Mt. Dew).

From Route 14A on, the area become more and more wild. The occasional yards held trailers and mobile homes, but it was mostly woods. One got the impression that the only thing this stretch of road was good for was trucking.

It had been 15 miles since I'd seen anything resembling a store. I finally reached a ghost-town like area with a bunch of closed stores. In that situation I speculated that if I could only take one of the side streets maybe I'd run into a grocery store. But, that was dangerous thinking, because it had gotten me lost in the past. I was really in need of something to drink, and then some fluid for over night and into the next morning.

Right before I had walked all the way through this strange and desolate town, I spied a soda machine in front of a closed business. It just so happened that I had way too much coinage anyway. I hobbled over to it and saw that it was on and working. No water, but hopefully there was something in the slots that advertised soda. I fed the machine quarters and chose an orange soda. And there it was! So I also bought two cans of Sprite, and two cans of orange soda. This was a lucky break...perhaps better than just luck.

The sun hadn't shone through the clouds since about 3:00 pm. And the days were shortening anyway; something I had to constantly remingd myself of. I was wearing down again and needed to find a nesting place. Distance-wise this hike had not been overly long for me, but of course the 10 mile effort to climb the Hill made me far more tired than if I'd walked 30 miles on a level highway.

The trees formed a corridor along this very busy road. There was a dirt shoulder, but it frequently would fall away over an edge sporting culverts and drain pipes. The sun was down now and I had reached the end of my strength for the day. I noticed that - as I shuffled along - the trees would be lined up along the road and then make their way up onto relatively low granite cliffs. Particularly, my side of the road was rich with these cliffs. I found one with what looked like natural stairs up its front. Intuitively, I knew that this was the one. This would be the sleeping place.

Rock cliffs are a challenge at night for sure. But this one was pretty steep and about 20 feet high. The sodas had no place to go in the backpack so I'd stuffed them in my vest and hoped for the best. One of them dropped out right at the top of the cliff. I wasn't gonna waste it, but I had to make sure that this was the right place before considering a climb back down.

It was a relatively flat area, covered in very soft moss. The stars were out so I didn't think there was chance for rain. I took off the pack and just sat for a moment assessing the spot. As I peerred into the woods beyond, to my right I saw the head of a driveway leading to a rather nice little stone ranch. To my left was a large stone house of several stories. I thought at the time that I might even be on their land. I'm still not sure if I was. But, I was through walking that day, and no matter what, this would have to do. I climbed down and grabbed the fallen soda, then back up again. It was much easier without the backpack.

At the top of my mossy bluff, I watched the traffic pass below me. The spot was situated in such a way that only when the small curve in the road straightened were headlights shining my position. I pulled out the little blue towel, laid it down on the moss, then rolled out the sleeping bag on top of it. It moss was very nice and cushioning, except for one piece of rock that ran laterally between my rib cage and hips. As long as I kept it there, I was able to turn over and sleep on either side.

West Greenwich Sleeping Place