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How to up, and go...Not really smart though
I put a picture in here, I have lost many, and for awhile I felt that I could remember the places better in my mind than by a photograph, I do but there is something about going through pictures, that makes you a little warm inside, specially if you want to show off:) So first rule carry a camera, nothing special just something to log your trip. This is hard for me to write, because when I speak of my adventures, most people get jealous, or are in disbelief. I warn all who actually act on their instinct to jump, and run, because we all have the desire to do it. Don't expect any help from anybody. One other thing, I started my adventures at the age of 13, I am a large guy, though that hurt in some ways it helped over all. I went on my first "walk about" in 1972, times were much different, child labor laws were non existent, and you did not need I.D.. to get a job. As a matter of fact I spent time in bars, and was never carded. So with this in mind, I will tell a story, of my second adventure at 15. I got the bug to take off for the Rockies, there were some extenuating circumstances in my family life, that really had nothing to do with it. I saw pictures of the Colorado Rockies, had heard numerous tales of peoples vacations there. So I saved up 200 bucks put together a back pack, and off I went. I came from a large Catholic family so, employment was a matter of fact, not something to do. I knew first thing off the bus I needed a job. It was summer, so I could find someplace to throw my sleeping bag. I worked in the restaurant business, at home, and knew that was always an easy job to get. So there I was, in the middle of Denver CO. back pack in hand. I sat on a park bench in the middle of Capital Hill, thinking through the story I was going to tell my employer. Again I was big for my age so saying I was 18 was no problem. I walked towards the first large restaurant I could see, I picked up a phone number from a pay phone, that was close to an apartment complex, which I got an address from. There I stood on the corner of 13, and Broadway. Chubby Big Boy statue smiling at me, as I came to the door of the restaurant. I was scared, more about getting my lies straight than anything else. I sat at the counter, drank coffee, filled out an application. The manager came up, and gave me a dish washing job on the spot. I knew I had it made as I quick stepped outta the place. I walked up 13 towards, a large area of older apartment buildings. I stopped at one that seemed a bit smaller than the rest, and much older. The, "Apartment for Rent" sign hand written was my biggest clue. I went to managers apartment, right next to the front door. She was an older haggled woman. My story begun, I went on about how my folks had died, I had to get a place on my own cause the state wouldn't help me. Of course making sure to repeat that I had a job. Well I got an apartment for the first months rent $75.00, and she would let me work off the damage deposit. I was on my way. I went to work, and the experience began. All I could think of was putting money away so I could go up to the Rockies, visions of being a mountain man danced threw my head. One thing I didn't count on was loneliness, for some reason I had the need to socialize. Of course the hormones kicked in too a bit. Well as smart as I thought I was, I was pretty stupid. I got into the wrong crowd. I began smoking pot, and drinking. I ended up doing most the buying. So for 6 months, I was dangling on other peoples yo-yo string. The day before I started back home, I hitch hiked to the mountains. I took a jar to get some rocks or dirt to take back. I was awed by the beauty, ended up staying overnight. I sat in front of a fire, smoked a joint, drank some Southern Comfort. I became angry, I knew what I had done was wrong. I prayed to God, begging for forgiveness. Now many
might say that, I was high, and that is why I heard what I heard but I
have heard the same voice many times since high, and sober. I know the
difference between my internal voice, and the one I call God. So with
that, God said to me. From that I returned home, took care of my responsibilities to my family, then off to next adventure. The moral of the story? There is none, you must decide what you want to do, if it is really what you want, then act on it, either by researching it, or by doing it. If you don't you will loose heart. Oh yeah the jar of soil, I never got it. I decided to return to it not take it with me. THE BEGINNING mkw |