A Living Magazine - Day 161 - That Slow Southern Style

I woke to the peaceful environment I'd been living in here. And, I hung around the camp site for quite a while...

Lilies--some even had buds.

It was a Sunday, and I decided not to take bus downtown even though I haven't even seen that area yet. The schedule is (stupidly) not on "The M" site, and the Wal-Mart bus stop has a nail going through its column for weekend pick ups. I did observe the bus arrive there at 10:40 am on Saturday, but without knowing when it would return, it does me no good. I didn't want to be stuck downtown and have to find a sleep spot there (although I did locate a possibility online). I like where I am.

All of this being stuck outside of town is maddeningly frustrating. It is like a dream where the harder you try to get somewhere the slower you move. I have not yet been to a city that I couldn't take pictures of and explore the downtown!

Frankly, I'm coming to grips with the fact that I might have to move on to Mobile without ever seeing Montgomery's downtown--if it just isn't practical and I am able to buy and print my ticket here outside of town. But, I haven't given up yet. Everything is impractically spread out here--at least for pedestrians. The Greyhound station is six miles from the downtown. The Wal-Mart is six miles from both. Even the UPS store where I will have to print my ticket (if the strip mall or in town libraries insists on a backpack search--which I will not submit to), is four miles from all of these things.

Usually, I depend on a Starbucks as an inner city hotspot, since they are always close to the downtown of cities, but not in Montgomery. It is another (at least) four miles from all the other things I've listed.

No matter where I am, I HAVE to be back at that far-distant Greyhound station on Wednesday. And I don't want to walk the six miles to get there, as it is due to rain on that day (that would be a two hour walk in the rain). It's just all screwy and anomalous. I'm complaining, but it's nobody's fault. America has been built for the automobile.

In the beginning of this Journey I did very long walks between towns and cities, and was willing to crank out twenty miles a day. But, I just can't see the use of spending that much time and sweat, just to take pictures of Montgomery's only tall building. This is the capital of Alabama, but even the capitol building, the Rosa Parks exhibit, the civil rights exhibits themselves, while being very worthy of seeing, are tough to devote an entire day of walking (twelve miles is at least four hours of walking).

I am getting a clearer and clearer impression that these circumstances are occurring for a special reason. There are other things to experience besides the downtown areas of cities. My feeling with this town is that it is the natural setting that I should be focused on, along with a personal lesson for me to slow down in certain places, and just be.

What Aldous Huxley called the "datum of experience", and Terence McKenna called, "the felt presence of immediate experience" (both, meaning that the moment one is experiencing is the most important moment of all), is beginning to dominate all that I do--not just here in Montgomery. My expectations and ambitions are simply not what the real deal should be about--apparently. It should be about the moment, each moment, every moment, and not about my plans for creating moments. The things that don't work out are most frequently what I personally want. This has been hard for me to accept; VERY hard. I have real goals - personal and public - that I want to accomplish, and sitting around building a desk out of scrap wood in a camp site, has not been one of them.

The Spark is great at leading me through epoch events, huge challenges, heroic moments; but then it throws curve balls at me that I don't understand or particularly enjoy.

In a way, I am fitting into this Southern culture, by default. People move more slowly here. They sit around and talk, without being at all concerned about getting to the next appointment. Why? Because usually the people at the next appointment are sitting around talking as well. It seems to be that they are living more in the immediate moment, than in the goals of the future or the memories of the past. Those future and past things are handled by talking about them in the present. This is very foreign to me.

In New England it was all about getting 110% of what you planned to get done each day--which, if you're paying attention, is impossible. In the West it was about only planning future achievements, and making each day a step toward them. In the Midwest it was about doing a complete day's work and being unconcerned about what was done before or what would be done later. All generalizations, I know. But, basically, those were the feelings I got.

So, I guess I need to just relax and swim in the luke warm water of each day, without worrying why I can't just get out and DO things. I suppose this is a valuable lesson for me. I don't think the whole South will be like this, but my time here in Alabama sure has given me a taste of the front porch, sweet tea drinking calm and tranquility that I used to hear about, but thought was a cliche.

I got to McDonald's and wrote up my post before noon...

Had to leave my traditional mark.

Then, I walked aimlessly around the parking lot, trying to decide if I should take the chance of riding the bus downtown. I can be very indecisive sometimes, and this was one of them. If I didn't take the bus, I'd have basically two options: (1) go to that other McDonald's on Route 80, or (2) back to the campsite and just hang out for the rest of the day. I guess I just got lazy, because I chose the latter, eventually setting up the tent at about 3:00 pm and taking a nap(!); something completely unheard of for me.

I woke up at about 5:30 pm to a brilliant sunset...

Strange to think California was out there...somewhere.

Sitting cross-legged in the tent, with the one remaining beer from the day before on my little table, I waited until after dark and then picked up the laptop, shoved the AC adapter into my pocket, and walked lazily back down to Wal-Mart, just to get online for a while. I didn't see much action there either, and after downloading a couple more podcasts, I yawned and headed back to the campsite at around 8:00 pm.

I felt fairly useless, and like I had wasted the day. The only thing that inspired me was the fact that the next day would be Monday, and I knew the bus schedule for the weekdays (basically five past the hour, each hour). I would finally get my chance to see the downtown--if everything worked out alright. And, I needed to buy and print out my bus ticket for the Wednesday ride to Mobile. Finally, I'd have something to actually DO.

Thanksgiving and the long weekend really threw me off. And, combined with Montgomery's spread out amenities, it just hasn't been an overly productive time. HOWEVER, maybe that was the point all along!: Slow down, have periods of doing nothing; just BE in the moment. Well, that is how I'm going to look at it anyway; four days of that slow Southern style.

I listened to the two podcasts - excellent interviews and commentary by the great KMO on his C-Realm show - and then fell asleep, having three quite bizarre dreams.

A Living Magazine - Day 160 - Own Where You Are With Respect

Besides having a very disturbing dream, about halfway through the night, it was another restful night in my sweet adopted home, Alabama. 

The dream was of the kind I used to have frequently before leaving Maine. I have basically had three great loves in my life. And when I dream about being in a relationship, it is always with one of these three people. There was K.D, D.M. and A.L. Usually, in the dreams, I am with one of them again, as if we had never broken up. Often times I will awaken thinking that we (whichever person the dream was about) were going to get up and do something that day. Then I'd look beside me and realize I was alone.

On this past night, it was A.L. We had been driving around North Cumberland at night. I dropped her off at some place I can't remember now, and we were talking on the phone. I noticed that when I'd ask her questions, she would not answer them, or took a long time. This made me very frustrated. Then she showed up at my house (always, it's the house in Yarmouth, where I grew up) and explained to me that she wanted to break up. I won't go into the reasons why, but it ripped my heart out, just like it had in the real world--some twenty years ago now. 

When I woke up in the tent, I was relieved to know that it was just a dream. But, honestly, I was a bit perturbed with the Spark for putting me through all that again (even though it wasn't the Spark's fault--but my own mind's).  

The weather is like a mild Maine summer right now, but having the sun so low in the sky keeps things golden all day long. When I first got to this sleep spot - and was eating my Thanksgiving dinner - I saw a thick, black tail with a dab of white on the tip, disappear into the bushes. Now, I've scoured the internet for Alabama mammals (say that five times fast!), and only the weasel and the fox would fit this description. It looked too big to be a weasel. So, I'm thinking it might be a fox...

A "Black Fox". This animal looks darn close. The tail is exactly the same.

[Source: Google Images]

Each night I have heard the rustling of a mid-sized animal, too active and large to be a raccoon, and too agile and small to be a coyote. Besides, this nine acre green island is not connected to any woods, so a large mammal would be very unlikely (no deer for instance). Although, there is woods on the other side of the road, and it has a thin strip connecting all the way southeast to large tracts of fields and forests. It would not be impossible for a fox to find his way into this place. Can you tell that I'm hoping it's a fox? Ha! Anyway, I keep my camera at the ready to catch glimpse of this mystery critter, should he show his snout. 

I noticed that even in the three days and nights I'd been there, I was having a domesticating influence on my approximate 300 square foot area. I had several paths now. Three of them led in from different directions. Another short one led to my "closet" (which you will see below). There were two others to my two "bathrooms". The spot where the tent stood each night was flat as a hotcake now, cleared of most objects larger than an acorn. All small bushes that once grew there had been cut off below the surface of the ground with my little knife, so that they wouldn't puncture the tent floor.

I know some of this sounds ridiculous to people who think nothing of plowing through, cutting and killing anything around them to form it in the way they want, but I am VERY respectful, not only to insects and spiders, but with trees, bushes and vines. 

By that, I mean that I don't kill ANYTHING if I don't have to. Trees that I utilize for hanging bags are left in tact except for the hanger-branch. When clearing a path vines are only cut if they would trip me at night, otherwise they are pulled up and twisted together then laid outside the walking area. Ant hills are left alone. Spiders are left alone. In fact  there is a tiny one who built a perfect web right beside where I hang my trash bag. I tried several times to take a photo of her, but the camera will only focus on the background. She catches mosquitoes before they enter the tent. And, she is very efficient at this.

Over the last leg of this current (Living Magazine) Journey - after leaving Allyson's house in Minnesota - I observed that when I treated even the smallest creatures with a "live and let live" attitude, they just didn't bother me at all. I've slept next to trees filled with ants and never have they streamed into my tent area. I have rescued spiders, and never has one "bitten" me. I use living vines and trees to make hangers, arches, supports, and camouflage, without killing them.

All the while, I've really felt that once I'm in an area for the week, it becomes MINE. I own it (though temporarily). The creatures and plants make way for me, as I keep respect for them. I help them when I can, and in return they don't bother me at all. Now, I know, I know, the temptation is to say that I am giving too much credit to individual critters who could care less, and act exclusively by instinct. I fully understand that that is part of it all. Nevertheless, I feel (perhaps through the agencies related to all life--through the Spark) that all of these living things are manifested under ONE kind of spiritual collective oversoul. It is not just dumb luck that over a hundred times camping I have never been harmed. By simple statistics alone, that is an over 100% success rate.

Yes, there was the Wiley Coyote incident in Nashville. I still now have a small scab above the bridge of my nose where he pawed me through the screen of the tent. However, if I had gotten desperate and actually emerged from the tent in full force, in front of him, showing no fear, I think he would have realized that I was a human (the most feared creature by all wild animals), and taken off immediately. He thought I was an animal. I will continue to monitor the way nature reacts to my presence.

Each morning I empty the tent of contents, shake it out upside down, and then zip it back up, propping it with the outside of the floor to face the sunrise. I dab the wet spots with a napkin and let the sun do the rest of the drying. It never takes more than ten minutes...

Condensation rises up through the ground underneath me as I sleep and gathers of the floor bottom. Yet, as I spend more and more time in one place, that condensation is less and less each day. By default, I dry out the spots directly under the tent.

I walked down to Wal-Mart McDonald's after completely packing up, but left my winter coat hanging and the tent poles hidden, so that I wouldn't have as much to carry. The tent poles are very awkward and it makes it much easier to not have them sticking out of the back pack. I have an idea for fully encasing them in the pack, but it will have to wait for a motel room to make the alteration. I passed the real estate sign for the green island...

After seeing this land, if the price was right, I would seriously consider buying it. In fact the 1.6 acres that I currently occupy (and is already subdivided from this larger tract) is probably pretty inexpensive. It would be perfect for a tiny house or self sustaining cottage. Good growing season here too, really long.

After working at McDonald's and then at the other one, west about a mile and a half down Route 80, I returned in the mid afternoon. It is strange to relate, but all I could think about was hanging out in my camp site, with the trees and the ants and the spiders, and maybe even a fox?--my nature family.

When I returned, I really wanted to sit and work on my offline picture processing and some other essays--yet unpublished. As I explained in the last post, just being able to sit is a luxury. I had a few hours before sunset, so I hatched a plan to construct a mini office. But, in good ole' fashioned Maine Saturday hobbie style, I wanted a couple beers to drink while I built my desk and further cleaned up the area. So I hid my pack in the "closet"...

Then, I headed out my eastern pathway to the street, and crossed the busy intersection to the Chevron station. There, I purchased three beers ($0.99/each--great prices in this part of the country), and made my way back, using the dirt road entrance. I like to never use the same path two times in a row, if at all possible. Once I had my Saturday beers chilling in a little pantry area (under a thickly covered bush), I looked around for materials to build my little desk.

Over by the hole that I'd capped, I found several boards that would do quite nicely. I only took one back. It was treated, about five feet in length, six inches wide and 3/8 inches thick. I used the saw on my new multitool to cut it into thirds. Once that was complete, I took my smaller knife out of the pants pocket and tapped it down with the hammer to start a split on one of the three pieces...

The board split wrong twice (with the grain pulling out on the edge instead of all the way down), but I kept at it with a second piece until I had three legs. At that point it was simply a matter of sharpening the tips of each leg, then hammering them into the ground about eight inches, so they were all level; the ground held them tightly. One of the other un-split sections worked well as a desktop. It was quite sturdy for being made of such thin materials. A few tacks would have been nice...

The laptop/tablet was very secure on top. Now I just needed a seat. I went back to the log pile and found a stump that wasn't lying on the ground, but rather, across a bunch of sticks. This meant no insect infestation. Capped with my winter coat as a soft seat, I was ready to go! I cracked a beer and worked there for about two hours, comfortably...

At just around 4:30, with the sun barely below the horizon, I put my backpack in the "closet" again, the laptop AC adapter in my pocket, and brought only the laptop itself to the Wal-Mart McDonald's to get the one post left to write, up and published. I was now caught up again. After having some nice exchanges at Facebook with my new friends, the Coons, my other friends too, and downloaded a Psychedelic Salon podcast to listen to that evening, I closed up the computer and headed "home" to my camp spot, where I set up the tent and the laptop, then sat comfortably listening to the podcast.

When it was over, I was tired, and climbed into the tent. I sat and looked up at the glow in the east that would be a rising waning moon, behind the thin cloud cover. For now, I owned my little piece of Alabama, and my respect for it made it hospitable to me. Sleep came easily at around 9:00 pm.

A Living Magazine - Day 159 - As Simple As It Gets

The new sleep spot was perfect. I could have stayed there all day. I slept in until about 8:00 am and then packed up, but left my tent poles hidden--they are  pain in the ass to carry in the backpack. I knew they would be safe. I walked to Wal-Mart and got online at their McDonald's for a little while, but ran into the tightening Wi-fi problem. So, it was off to the other McDonald's, just over a mile away. 

Walking down to the other McDonald's, I passed the strip mall library to see if they might be open. No dice. Black Friday was just too strong a force. Actually, the employees were simply having a long weekend. The words "Black Friday" were unthinkingly posted on their site. An unfortunate use of terms, making it sound like a holiday unto itself...  

The trek to McDonald's from there was short. Unfortunately, I had to buy something, even though I wasn't hungry. Such is the deal with restaurant hotspots. I got two posts published, and was catching up. But, I ran out of steam after about four hours, and got sick of dealing with the splash page thing again.

It was beginning to look like I would never see the downtown area and was about five miles from it. I had checked for a Starbucks and the only ones were at least three miles distant, with none actually downtown. Quite strange.

Monday looked like the best time to explore downtown, if it was going to happen at all. You see, some of the problem is that I don't want to be stuck there, when I have to leave this coming Wednesday for Mobile. We will see how it all turns out. For now, I just had the desire to return to the campsite and hang out.  So I did.

When I got back, nothing had changed of course. I could see my own renovations and excavations, but nobody was gonna go in there. No one cared, and that was a good thing. There were nothing but busy streets around the whole green island (my name for the nine acres). I was actually on the edge of being bored--something that is very rare for me. So I took some shots of the plants...

Last leaf on the vine around, what I have nicknamed, the "Bodhi Tree".

Looking up at the "Bodhi Tree".

Unidentified flowers.

Unidentified vines.

Two trees of the same kind, one wrapped around the other.

Afternoon sun.

The sun went down quickly, and I was tired again, in the same way as the day before. I turned in at around 6:00 pm. And, I slept on and off for the next 12 hours, only getting up occasionally to pee. I almost felt depressed, in that way you feel like you have to stay in bed; like there is no reason to get up; a total lack of motivation.

And, just after 12:00 am I had a disturbing dream; a kind of theme I hadn't dealt with in a long time--years. But that belongs to the next day's chapter.

A Living Magazine - Day 158 - Thanksgiving Carianchimana and Demetrice

Very nice and warm night. I woke to a clear sunrise. The apartments across the street were closer than I had remembered the night before. I'd have to find another spot somewhere on this same 9.2 acre (said the for sale sign) parcel, but it shouldn't be difficult to do later that day.

I opened the tent flap and saw this glowing in sunlight...

A moss cross.

I dug through the pack and found some  mints from Jeff. They would have to do until I brushed my teeth later...

Pack up went fast, and realized I didn't need the tarp--a mental note for this next night. I had to blaze a new pathway to the street, where I took a right and then continued on down to the McDonald's, about a mile and a half away. There are frontage roads running on either side of Route 80, and the westbound one had a bunch of closed businesses, some of which I'd seen on the walk to Wal-Mart the night before. I found this one particularly interesting; an abandoned Super 8 motel...

Check out the palm trees. I hadn't seen any since leaving Oregon.

It was Thanksgiving Day and there sure were a lot of people spending it at McDonald's. Some were travelers sneaking a snack before they arrived at the bigger dinner with relatives, but most were local folks. I figured a chicken dinner would be close enough to a turkey dinner...

I wasn't very upset to not be having a traditional meal. But I thought it would be nice to have one; pretending that I had turkey and stuffing.

I got some work done, and was able to touch base with people online, but before my post was complete, the Wi-fi kept cutting off. I'd had this happen before. McDonald's will let you have an hour and a half, then an hour, then a half hour, then chunks of fifteen minutes. But with each new sign on, you have to go to their splash page. And, I've been to enough McDonald's to know that the first three letters for auto fill to catch the rest of the splash page, are "nmd..." It took a few times of being cut off, while I was on the West Coast to pick up on this little trick. Not knowing them, means you only have one hour.

I got sick of signing in every fifteen minutes, and packed up. It was not clear whether the local branch of the library - located in a strip mall near by - would be open the next day. The website said "Black Friday may affect library hours". I also had no idea what the bus system would do on the day after Thanksgiving, or even the Saturday after. Their website: Montgomery Area Transit, "The M", is by far the crappiest bus site of any city I've been to. Routes are color-coded, but only when you choose the associated area, which of course an out of towner like myself doesn't know the areas. The maps are glitchy. It is not specified whether transfer tickets are available, and there are no online schedules, nor bus stop locations shown! The only thing I found out for sure was that fares - one way - are $2.00.

I was at a loss to know what to do with the rest of the day. I figured I would just explore the green island and find another spot, then hang out there for the remainder of the day and night; maybe work offline...

Seen on the way back. Hell maybe marriage was worth the risk,

if it only cost $175 to get divorced?

What do we call these kinds of lawyers? Limousine chasers?

I walked through the Badcock strip mall parking lot as a shortcut back to the sleep spot, and was about halfway across when I saw a nice black car with tinted windows circle way around and then drive up to me. I thought I was in their way so I moved over. They stopped and a very kind-faced woman rolled down her window and said, "Hi!! We're just heading to a relatives and saw you walking. Would you like a Thanksgiving meal?" She held up a styrofoam container.

I was taken a bit off-guard, and stammered out, "I...I...guess... Sure." She got out and handed me the container, and we talked a little bit. She asked if she could get a picture with me. Her husband got out and they took shots of me with each of them. I told them about my project and handed a card to each. They told me their names. She was Demetrice and he, Carianchimana.

She said, "We're the Coons, from Flint, Texas!" Then asked, "Oh, hey! Do you want some cake too?" They went around back to the trunk and pulled out another container, putting both in a paper bag. I thanked them and we agreed that we would try to stay in contact...

Carianchimana and Demetrice Coon.

As I heard them pull away, and across the parking lot, I was filled with emotion. They weren't going around giving food to homeless people, they just happened to see me. I was honestly overcome. My eyes filled with tears... and, I wept as I walked.

Finally, I got to the other end of the green island from where I'd slept the night before, near Wal-Mart, and walked down the dirt road I'd seen on Google Earth, to a very pleasant and private grassy spot, with cut logs, where I could actually sit and enjoy a REAL Thanksgiving dinner...

I had no idea yet what was in the containers. I opened them, and holy mackerel!...

Collard greens, steamed perfectly, with slices of bacon; white beans with pieces

of fat back; brown sugar baked ham, chunks of white breast meat, two pieces of

baked chicken; and a stuffing (or "dressing" as they call it here) made like bread

pudding but tasting like a breaded stuffing, New England style.

It was fantastic! More than I could have ever wanted. Everything was delicious. I couldn't believe I still had room after my chicken sandwich earlier. But I ate like I hadn't eaten in days. When I'd plowed through half of it all, I closed up the container and opened the second box...

Chocolate walnut cake with coconut frosting, and strawberry cocoa

cake with (I think?) lemon almond frosting.

It was a beautiful afternoon. This place was so peaceful and I was able to truly rest for the first time in weeks. What people sometimes don't understand is the value of just sitting. I can always stand. That is what I spend most of my time doing. And, of course I can set up the tent and lie down, but sitting in the tent is not very comfortable. That's why, when I found a five gallon bucket in Milwaukee that I could use as a seat and a milkcrate in Memphis, I was ecstatic in both cases--really! And here in Montgomery, these logs did the same thing for me...

After eating, I looked around the area a bit and saw a hole about eighteen inches in diameter. I walked over to it...

Ominous, and filled with water.

Looking carefully I saw a dead squirrel half submerged. I got the terrible feeling he hadn't been the only animal to make the mistake of falling into this hole. Once in, there was no escape. I remembered when we were kids, my dad had a barn with a dirt pit for oil changes. One day he went out and found a mouse floating in the three inches of water. All around the edges of the pit were tiny scratch marks where the mouse had tried to pull himself out. In an unusual show of mercy (for my dad), from that day forward, he left a piece of wood propped up so that if another mouse ever fell in it would be able to escape.

I looked around for a log to do the same thing in this hole. I located one that was about twelve feet long and three inches thick, and slowly lowered it into the hole. I thought that maybe it would be about six feet deep, but it just kept going down, and was actually swallowed up completely! I couldn't believe this hole was so deep. If a child were to fall in and no one knew it, that would the end. No logs were long enough to reach the bottom, so I decided to cap it instead, rolling a large stump over and onto it...

I considered setting up the tent out in the open but quickly dismissed the idea. Searching all around the area, I found what I think was an ideal spot, just over a way and totally hidden from all sides. It was just under this tree...

In about an hour the sun went down and I climbed in...

I was tired, but it wasn't a physical exhaustion. Psychologically, I was worn out. I'd been experiencing this fatigue more and more regularly in the last month. I loved what I was doing, but I saw so many different things each day--many more than I would see just living in an apartment and following a domestic routine. It is impossible to relate what that feels like, although I've put a lot of effort into trying to do that here at the blog. This constant barrage of new experiences every single day, combined with my tendency to think so deeply about everything, and along with being so easily moved by the pain, suffering, and hard lives of the many people, and even animals I encountered, seemed to be weathering me. I was a wooden post caught in a tornado.

I tried to separate myself from the whirlwind, with a breathing technique I'd developed to aid in falling asleep. It eventually worked, and I slipped off.

A Living Magazine - Day 157 - The Land of Loans and Lawyers

I woke up early as I always do on a travel day. The only thing I had to do that day was make sure I caught the 1:15 pm bus at the Birmingham Greyhound Station. Still, I packed up quickly and said goodbye to the birds and the Golden Flake field...

I had breakfast at McDonald's and studied all the Google and other information I could on Montgomery (the Greyhound station location, Maps, Satellite, Earth 3D, and Street Views--for the sleep spot), and then weather, libraries, and something pretty important for resupplying: Wal-Mart.

 Montgomery had everything I would need, but these things were spread out across the whole city. Greyhound was located in the southwest of town, Wal-Mart was in the southeast, while the library and downtown areas were way up in the north. In the next two days I'd have to make a triangular path in order to hit them all.

I got to the Birmingham Greyhound station about an hour early...

Apalachee Don. Never heard of him until this day.

I sat around inside the station and watched MSNBC heavily rotating how afraid we should be as we travel, interspersed with medical ads and Black Friday discount ads. The place slowly filled up as 1:00 pm approached. I had to go outside and take a break from the din of the TV...

Ah, fresh air, under the towering presence of banks.

Finally, the garbled intercom announced something unintelligible, but I could just barely make out the words, "Montgomery" and "Gate A". Good enough for me. I lined up as close to the front as possible.

Soon we were on the almost-overbooked bus. But, thankfully, I had the double seat to myself (and Saggy--the wonder pack, of course), and we were on our way... 

Great bus driver; let us have a break after only an hour. 

When we arrived in Montgomery, I got online at the McDonald's across the street from Greyhound and re-checked my info for the city. I desperately needed new socks, new underwear, new gel insoles and wipes at Wal-Mart, so I looked for the closest patch of green, then viewed it from the Google Street View, and saw no impediments to making a camp spot there. Only problem was it happened to be located six miles east on Route 80. I took a deep breath, strapped on the pack and headed out for a two hour walk.

This is not a rich town. About 30% of the companies along Route 80 are not only closed, but their windows are smashed in. The preponderance of short-term loan places, ambulance chaser billboards and barely struggling businesses was, frankly, astounding...

Had laugh at this. The place is supposed to be called "Beauty Warehouse."

I'm not sure about the downtown area, but this southern part of town is almost exclusive black, and (as studies have shown) that is the best place to set up payday, title, and pawn loan businesses. Trick the poor folks into going even deeper into debt. Charge them 50% interest, then take their cars and valuables, ruin their credit scores, and force them deeper into poverty. Feed the monster...

Loved this! How many ambulance chasing billboards can one bloodsucking lawyer stuff

onto one onramp area? There were two more on the other side!

I went into Wal-Mart and easily found my items, though I was surprised at the cost for socks, at $7.00 for two pairs. But, I couldn't really complain, since that is the price of a breakfast at McDonald's. And, the socks will stick around longer than my breakfast did. Ha!

The sleep spot was easy to locate after a rather rough slog through the thorn vines, thorn bushes and thorn trees. I was quite happy to see a lack of insects and spiders. I accidentally stepped on a huge ant hill, but removed my foot before the hordes attacked. The ant hills were much larger than in Birmingham--some, being twenty four inches tall! But, so far, the ants inhabiting these mini-cities were relatively docile and kept to themselves. When peering at the top of a mound, one only sees a few sets of antennae flickering out. They aren't swarming around. They have made a living from digging underground, carrying beetle larvae and nutritious seeds back to their city centers.

Nice neat tent.

Didn't really need the tarp, since the temperature was a dry 65° F, but I didn't know if it might fall later that night...

Listening to a podcast, via tree tablet holder.

I finally had a chance to take off the socks I'd been wearing since my wash in Nashville nearly two weeks earlier. I threw them away in my trash bag, wiped off my feet thoroughly and put on the new socks. Then, I cut the gel insoles to size, removed the squashed worn-out smelly ones and replaced them with the new ones, leaving the boots to dry in a tree outside. I took off my underwear, did a full wipe down, and put on one of the two pairs I'd just bought, throwing the old away. Now I had an extra pair of underwear and socks in the pack; and clean ones on.

The sleep spot was not absolutely ideal. There was an apartment building right across the street, but I couldn't ask for anything better on such short notice. I resolved to check out the rest of this island of green the next afternoon. The next day, I would be running out of money, and the regular anxiety about funds began to creep back in. Still, sleep came quickly. It had been a long day.