A Living Magazine - Day 261 - Homecoming - Hillsborough to Eno

During the night I woke to a loud sound near me. I was ready for anything, not knowing what the hell was going on. Then I heard another like the cracking of a large wooden beam that then crashed to the ground. I suddenly knew exactly what it was. The dead trees were falling over from the wind. I didn't know why this area was so rotted out. The thin pines were fairly tall too; about twenty feet. they had grown well until something in the environment began to cause the die off. My hypothesis was that there must be a sand layer beneath a thin layer of soil. When the roots reach that point they no longer receive adequate nutrients, nor a strong foothold. It appeared that this area hadn't had much rain either. Not a good combination for trees.

I fell back asleep and no more trees came down during the night. I slept in, as I had been doing since Charlotte (on most mornings). "Sleeping in" is not getting up before 7:30 a.m. Before Charlotte, I didn't sleep much past 6:00 a.m. That meant the sun was up. This woods was very private, yet as I packed up I heard a guy over in the Holiday Inn parking lot, calling his dog. I didn't need a dog visit, nor any human company at this point. This was my second morning and third calendar day in Hillsborough. I wanted to move on...

My Nomad symbol was evolving from the simple "i" on a "W" (for IWALLK) to the above,

which combines an upward pointing arrow, by extending the "i" downward.

I see the dot as maybe the earth, or the Universe, but most probably the Spark.

I ran across this on the way out of the woods.

Someone had been busy. It was the kind of thing I might have done had I stayed longer.

I walked to McDonald's to work instead of all the way into town at the library, because Route 70 Business (which I needed to follow to Durham) was closer to this end of town, considering the length of the walk both ways...

The barren Holiday Inn, with its crepe myrtle trees, trimmed and ready for spring growth.

Someone had donated a generous amount. And, she hadn't even read the "Hunger Game" post! A couple other people donated later in the day. This was a huge relief and I bought some breakfast with my coffee. I worked at McDonald's and got a post published before leaving. The plan was to stop and camp in the town of Eno, about halfway to Durham. The temperature was really high still. It felt good to be walking without a sweater on--but I quickly felt the sweat fill the back of my shirt. I would have removed my bottom pant legs, but all I had for socks were the long wool ones from Wal-Mart. I didn't want to be "that" guy. Ha! I took off to Route 70 Business...

They didn't even bother to cut these trees, just bulldozed them down, with the following ironic

sign being erected just beyond what was now a clearing...

Just about every sign in this part of the state has a Spanish translation. There is a rather large Hispanic population in this region. While at McDonald's it was mostly Hispanic and a few black folks. No whites--none (except at the drive through). Anecdotally, this demographic would remain the same all the way through Durham at fast food places. Durham county has a 13.5% Hispanic population, while the City of Durham is 14.5% Hispanic. Durham County has nearly as many African Americans as European Americans, with all other races filling in the gap between the two major races...

Just as an aside, these percentages of African Americans and Hispanics in Durham County are higher that the state averages...

In 2007, the U.S. Census estimated that the racial makeup of North Carolina was as follows: 70% White American, 21.3% African American, 1.2% American Indian, and 6.5% are Hispanic or Latino (of any race). 

Source: Wikipedia 

To give some perspective between North Carolina and lilly white Maine...

At the 2010 Census, 94.4% of the population was non-Hispanic White, 1.1% non-Hispanic Black or African American, 0.6% American Indian and Alaska Native, 1.0% Asian, 0.1% from some other race and 1.4% of two or more races. 1.3% of Maine's population was of Hispanic, Latino, or Spanish origin.  

Source: Wikipedia 

I have been so gradually integrated into so many different state demographics that seeing non-whites, Hispanics and Asians is just normal now. Most of my time is spent with non-whites, since leaving the Northwest. I am more comfortable now in public places with blacks folks, than with white folks. For someone who has lived their whole life in Maine (as I did), to be suddenly immersed in Southern culture could be shocking. Getting back to Vermont, New Hampshire and Maine will probably be a reverse-culture shock. I passed out of Hillsborough...

The entire walk to Eno, after merging from Route 70 Business to regular Route 70, was a deep forest-lined hike along the grass shoulder. I would have enjoyed exploring some of these woodsy realms, but there were regular signs exclaiming--in no uncertain terms, that this was "State Property. NO TRESPASSING! Violators Will Be Prosecuted!" Shit, don't need to tell me more than once, though they told me a hundred times.

Even when I got to Eno, any land near the highway had these same signs, except for one small tract in a semi-clover leaf, where 70 turned back into 70 Business. I made my way into this five or so acre woods and found the least visible spot, tucked right up against I-85. First order of business (okay, maybe just because I had time to kill) was to leave my mark...

The land was mostly inclined, except for one small forty square foot piece of ground. I set up and paced around outside for awhile just thinking, then turned in for the night...

My bed buddy, Saggy the wonder pack.

I had the first of three related dreams about being with the person described in the Valentine's post. Very different than ones I had experienced before these few nights to come.