A Living Magazine - Day 290 - Homecoming - Richmond to Ashland

I woke late again, about 8:30 a.m...

Sunrise tent silhouette.

Looking outside, I realized just how close I was to the road. The green of the tent definitely hid it well, but packing up could become a public spectacle. Nevertheless, I got to it. While I was about halfway through I saw something moving along the edge of the road. It would lurch forward then stop, then go again. It appeared that it was a car looking for something. My paranoia told me someone in the adjacent apartments had seen me and now the cops were searching.

Of course, as I said in the last post, my worry was a waste of time. It was a golf cart, and the guy was picking up trash. I did stand very still as he passed by my spot. He looked right at me, but he wasn't even close to realizing I was there. I finished up and hit the road. There were another 10 miles or so to traverse in order to reach Ashland...

Ha! We're everywhere.

These markers were at regular intervals. Erected by the Daughters of the Confederacy.

Neat little antiques/motel place.

Wow. Strip mall churches. I just can't see it, folks; not for me anyway.

I'll take nature in the raw, thank you very much.

Eventually I got to Ashland, and went straight to Starbucks to work. I got quite a bit done. I was seriously low on funds, and had been eating one small meal a day. There was no way I could expect readers to donate very much after they had been so helpful with the hotel after the 100 mile walk. But, still I had to try to ask. I did. And, someone stepped up and got me through that meal and the next day's.

After eating, it appeared the rain was coming. The wind kicked up hard, and the gray clouds rolled in. Although there were thunderheads in the distance, they never slammed Ashland, yet their residual rain squeezed out over the land. It held off until I found a sleep spot near I-95. Rain was predicted for the next day too, so I decided I would probably stay in Ashland for one more day. It would give me a chance to catch up even further on this blog.

The sleep spot was right off the edge of an exit from I-95, only one-way traffic went by, coming off the the Interstate. Though they could see down a little way into my spot, they wouldn't care, and so neither did I. A fence ran along the perimeter of the land. So, I felt secure from large non-human mammalian visitors too...  

A rare place to hang Saggy, theoretically to discourage spider visits.

Although, as I would discover, it wouldn't matter.

I climbed into the tent and fell asleep as the rain began in earnest. And, I would have one of my stranger dreams. It would turn out to be an prophetic allegory for the coming discovery the next day that an extremely close friendship - one that had had significant influence on this Journey - had ended.