A Living Magazine - Day 330 - Homecoming - Holyoke to Northampton

I woke up in the Holyoke spot. The sun was already up and I was visible (seemingly) from the off ramp of 91 and the stretch of 202 that went by the little park. But, I didn't really care anymore. Especially in the mornings, I figure, "So you see me? Big deal. I'll be gone in ten minutes anyway." And, I over think it all admittedly. No one really cares. I guess if a policeman had nothing better to do, he could come over and harass me. 

But, for godsake, I hope they do have more important things to worry about. The only other issue would be other vagrants. But, the general rule among we sloppy, dirty, homeless bums is to leave each other's shit alone. If some dude came up and started giving me shit or threatening to harm or take my tent, I'd break his fucking nose for him. This is all I have! If someone breaks into your house, you have the right to beat the shit out of him. Same thing on the street. I know that love and fluff and unicorns and rainbows should prevail, but touch my tent and bones will be broken--sorry about that.

As I mentioned in the last post, my camera's SD card was dead. Still, without knowing this, I continued to take pictures and videos. It is disappointing to have lost so much. And, there was quite a bit--over 90 pictures and 3 videos. I guess if it had to happen to one of the walks it might as well have been this one. 

After packing up and then starting my walk up Route 5 to Northampton, I found the Double D Diner. I had a nice breakfast (detailed in the review I wrote for Yelp at the previous link). It was just what I needed, since not eating properly the day before.

I kept walking for quite a long distance after breakfast, eventually reaching Northampton in the evening. Northampton is a college town, artsy and trendy. So, of course they had a Starbucks. Fortunately it was SO trendy that Starbucks was passe enough not to be overly busy. I settled in there and did a surprising amount of work. It was just as snobby and pretentious as any Starbucks, with poser students doing their "homework" while trash like myself had to pull out my laptop and write for an hour in order to be subconsciously accepted. 

I know that there are people who can go anywhere and do anything without feeling like they need to measure up to the snobby people around them, observing and judging them. I'm not one of those people. I want to fit in. I want the peer pressure to accept me, ridiculous as that all sounds. And, it isn't because I'm a coward or want to judge myself only as others judge me. I think it has more to do with growing up in Yarmouth, Maine; one of the preppier and snobbier towns in southern Maine. I was good friends with the daughter of Leon Gorman, for example, who went to school with me and was in my graduating class. I was among the poorer residents of Yarmouth, but I also sought to have the preppiest clothes, just like the LLBean kids, with families who could afford those kinds of clothes.

I'm trying to justify my need to be seen with dignity, when in fact, I am a ditch-sleeping, bottom shelf, unwashed piece of shit--that is, as old money New England might judge me. As much as I rail against pretension and bourgeois standards, I'm still a guy who wants to not be kicked out of the country club or yacht club. Until I can open my mouth and let it be known that I am a well-educated and articulate scholar, I will be judged by looks alone.

But, I guess none of that really matters. I found possibilities for sleep spots beyond the hypermall areas of Northampton. Now it was a matter of getting on the road and actually finding the place to camp.

I moved on up Route 5 and thought I'd seen a place right before Walmart. Unfortunately, I heard male voices in the space where I wanted to retire as I walked by. Wasn't going to happen. So, I continued out of the urban range. 

Going by the rule that there is always a spot within 5 miles of any town, I found mine. It was on the edge of Northampton, along a mountainside.

The night was dark enough. And, the area was just remote enough to allow a small amount of ground for camping. I walked into the area and found a place that was semi-flat. I would discover in the morning that I was actually in a crater that had been blown out with explosives a while back, adjoining where the River Valley Co-op was to be built. 

Again I paced around, after the tent was assembled. Then, I stood on a glacial rock taking pictures (which would never be seen). When I was satisfied that I'd exploited this part of the wallk sufficiently, I crawled into the tent and lay down. It did not take long to fall asleep.