A Living Magazine - Day 352 - Homecoming - Chelmsford: Disaster Recovery

Around 3:00 a.m. I woke up very briefly forgetting all that had happened the night before.  Then I remembered. Then I noticed that now there were only drops falling off of the trees outside--the rain had stopped. I turned over and fell back asleep.

When I woke up again, rays of light were bleeding through the layers of tarps cast by the rising sun. I was damp, but no longer wet. The floor of the tent was nearly dry. Under the sleeping bag it was wet, but I expected that.

It was time to pull it all back together again. I got up, put my wet shoes on and climbed out of the tent. Looking around, there were a few sunny spots over by the road side of the area. The drying project had to begin. I muttered a four letter word, starting with F, and reached in to haul out the pack. 

The closest sunny spot was about 40 feet away. I walked over to it and hung the pack on a broken pine tree branch. I then returned to the tent and unstaked it, picking the whole thing up and carrying it to where the pack hung. Removing each of the layers of tarps, I hung them in various places, and just waited. Well, here let my video tell the story...

Once packed up, I headed out. I didn't even want to think about the tablet and keyboard, as I walked to Starbucks, but I did worry. When I arrived, I began to feel normal again. Throughout the night I was afraid that in the morning I'd look like a wet bum who'd slept in the gutter.

I ordered a coffee, then sat at the counter, pulled out the laptop/tablet--which was covered with a fine sheen of moisture, and plugged it in. I got a power signal, but it wouldn't turn on. I grabbed some napkins and strongly wiped all around the seams rubbing them to create a bit of heat. Trying again to turn it on, I got a flash on the screen, then it did the startup thing for a good three or four minutes, before turning itself off again. I sipped my coffee, trying to be patient.

When I tried it again, I got to the spot where I could log in with my password, the desktop came up, and I felt hopeful again. Now the problem was getting a Wi-Fi signal. A message said networks were available, but whenever I tried to view them, I just got a blank window. I'd been fortunate to have the computer last as long as it had--a year now, and figured that if it shit the bed, it wouldn't surprise me. I treat it so gingerly, but time and wear have affected all of my stuff, why should the tablet be any different?

Then the Starbucks signal appeared. Phew! I clicked on it and was able to get to the splash page. Before checking anything, I searched Google Maps for a laundromat close by. There was one about two miles away, downtown. Just as I checked out the hours, the computer crashed. They were open 24 hours. I packed up the laptop, and headed there at about noon, taking shots along the way...

The day was quite nice now, with a cool breeze. The temperature was rising though, and the humidity was returning. It took 40 minutes to get to the Colonial Village Laundry. 

It was a great place; large, clean, with new machines, not crowded, with average prices. They also had two well-equipped restrooms. So, I went in, washed myself up, including a shampoo, and put on my only other clean outfit. It was so nice to be in clean clothes. Then I washed all of my other stuff, along with the sleeping bag. It took 38 minutes. Remembering I had a ziplock bag of change, I used that to do the dryer cycle. Right before that was done I pulled out and turned on the laptop to give it another try. It booted up fine! Then the dryer buzzed.

So, I folded all my stuff. The backpack was dry now and I stuffed the sleeping back into it, then the clothes, and left, taking more shots...

Partial panorama. I left this in to show the effect it can make with traffic.

By the time I got back to the north part of town, the sun was down. I went to Dunkin Donuts and got online, finally touching base with everyone, and even publishing a post. The next day was to be the first day of the final leg of this Journey. Jeff and I agreed to meet at McDonald's the next morning and then ride down to Lowell to see the monument to Jack Kerouac and then his gravesite.

I didn't know much about Kerouac. I'd seen On The Road (the film), and liked it a lot. And, I had read his poetry quite a few times over the years. The last time I saw Jeff he gave me a copy of Kerouac's book--the one on which the movie was based. I'd read the first three chapters at the laundromat on this day and was quite intrigued by his style of writing and the man himself. I looked forward to the next day.

This time, when I returned to the sleep spot, I walked way over to the high bluff right near the intersection. There were a lot more pine trees which made a cleaner bed, and I excavated the area very carefully, wanting to sleep as soundly as possible.

Before going to bed, I paced around the spot in my traditional way of half-planning and half-communing with the Spark. I felt good, much better than I had in days. There was a cool breeze, the mosquitoes were bearable, and before I climbed into the tent I sang four or five of my old original songs acapella.

That felt REALLY good. I realized how great these tunes still were. I also realized that they mean even more to me now, and have more to do with the life I'm living now, than they did during the time when I first wrote them. Even back then I knew they were meant for another time--the future. 

As the river of headlights flowed below me, the wind blew over me, and the stars shone down upon me, I repeated one of the lines of songs over and over again, as it now so plainly applied to the Spark...

"Paint my thoughts with your Light...Paint my thoughts with your Light...Paint my thoughts with your Light.............................."