You are about to read Part 4 or my hitchhiking memoir. Where I travel around 10,000 Km's in a month... and the events leading up to it. This is the part where I am actively preparing for my trip. Not preparing like most people prepare mind you. This story will make a bunch more sense if you read the first three parts... they are all 5 minute reads or so. They are all linked below. Please tell your friends if you think they will enjoy my writing, upvotes and resteems are very welcome as well... but mostly... read it and enjoy! Thanks!
Part 1:
https://steemit.com/life/@allcapsonezero/hitchhiking-memoir-part-1
Part 2:
https://steemit.com/life/@allcapsonezero/hitchhiking-memoir-part-2-globalization-callcenters-and-drywall
Part 3:
https://steemit.com/life/@allcapsonezero/hitchhiking-memoir-part-3-sobriety-warehouse-workaholics-the-big-idea
Here's part 4!
In the motorcycle diaries, a 23 year old Che goes around the country with nothing but a motorcycle, a friend and a yearning for something that not even he knew what it was. I had the same yearning. I had the same strings being pulled in my head. I had the same heart aching and threatening to stop if there was not a change. I needed out in a major way. Seeing this movie was simply the clarification of that fact.
I have been to the west coast a few times, with my family, and with my friends (aka my other family). I have gone to Utah, Colorado and New Mexico with the University and in turn have seen Montana, Idaho, Washington, British Columbia, Wyoming, Saskatchewan, and had a flight delayed in Minneapolis for a night. I have seen some places, more than some and much less than others.
I despise tourism for the most part... not the act of seeing places, people, and cultures... but the commercialization, the industry, the fact that you can go anywhere in the world and still not leave the comfort of middle - upper class Canada. You can go to a resort in Mexico, get sloppy drunk for a week in a warm climate, and then come back home and tell your friends how awesome Mexico is... not knowing what Mexico is actually like and not taking a moment to get a feel for the people, their problems, their struggles and their suffering, which ultimately is our problem, our struggle and our suffering. Not just that, but also their triumphs, their pass time, and their unavoidable humanity and love. The modern tourist, to quote fermented reptile, a “missionary of western ways” does not get a glimpse of any of this. They show up with money and stay above all of the everyday things, all of the people, and all of the happenings because their money guarantees this in a global world. I am not bashing tourism, or the vacations that you have went on... just the way that the “industry” seems to be headed, and the fact that many vacation goers do not get to see the actual place that they are visiting. The realities of globalization are hidden from them.
My grandfather told me a story related to this. In Czarist Russia, there was an assistant to the Czar, whose job was to seek out wealthy peasants who lived very well in different areas of the country. When the Czar went to travel, he would stop by at an “average” peasants house and see just how well the people of his great nation were doing. So, the Czar would be under the impression that the country that he is running is doing very well and that the standard of living for these commoners is quite good. The truth of the matter, swept neatly under a carpet. This symbolic carpet today, rests upon mounds and mounds and mounds of hidden and ignored truth, gets diluted by “all you can drink” and hidden on the other side of the resort wall.
My buddy, Cole, whom I lived with for a while (during my truck driving days on through to the beginning of my warehouse days), has backpacked through much of Latin America and has many great stories of the people, the places, the buses, the music and the culture. He has CD’s, quilts, shirts and all sorts of stuff that he acquired from immersing himself into the culture and getting to know the people. This is the kind of travel that I am down with. Although, I felt that, for me, only knowing English (sadly enough, typical for an Albertan) and feeling a certain attachment close to home, that I would like to see my country first.
Canada is so large and vast that one could travel Canada their whole entire life and still not see all that there is to see. Its land touches three Oceans, has mountains, prairies, shield, wet lands, forests, islands, rock, tundra... the list goes on and on. I wanted to see Canada, but I had less than $1000 saved up and around $10,000 debt accumulated. I wanted to go now. This would not even be a debate for many... no money equals no travel. I do not like this attitude. I don’t like to think that money holds that much power. I like to think that people hold power... all the power and that they have been tricked into believing that it is all about the money. This being said... I had more than enough to get me through Canada. I had plenty of money and more importantly, people, lots of people all over the country. My friend Pedro made a crack a few weeks before about hitchhiking... and it sunk pretty deep into me and once I got bit with this travel bug that was it... I knew that I was going to hitchhike to my destination. After thinking about it and talking with Pedro a bit more about my idea I decided that hitchhiking to Halifax and back would be as good of a trip as any.
The decision that I wanted to hitch across the country was made in the middle of May. This would be nearly a year since my drywall hauling gig, when I was pretty fresh into sobriety, single life, church life and roommates. At this stage, I was much more comfortable in my shoes and where my shoes were standing. I no longer was attending the church, although I feel that it was good for me at the time, it was not the direction that I wanted to head in. I was still sober, still single but much less awkward. I was slowly emerging as myself... yet far from it still. I wrote a poem around the time I was kicking around the idea of traveling which might help you see where I was at.
The road from back there to where I stand has been interesting,
I cannot put it into words although they do exist.
I must see Canada, the world, the streets.
I have only just discovered the streets of Edmonton,
A new world, hope for the new world.
Where I stand is in a place of confused disillusionment.
What I have learned is not impressive,
what I have unlearned is truly the feat.
As I ride this moment like a wave to wherever it goes,
where I will it and where it flows
I see the the challenge of a true traveller, a true man.
To ride, control, take it as it comes and never give up.
Where I am is where I will end up only at a later time,
faith, strength and perseverance will take me there.
My life is not as it was yesterday and tomorrow is not my goal.
Now is the time. What holds me where I am now?
Debts, doubts, fear. All in my head.
Freedom, Justice, the world. All in my head.
Why then do I suffer its weight?
Uncertainty is a paradox of epic proportions.
Teasing, poking, and pulling the string of insanity which has become somewhat of a companion,
We may be together for a while.
The mind moves where I don’t always want to be
but alas, here I am.
The pen is a prescription for this condition
and I have learned to apply this medication daily
as a self medicating pharmacist would.
Poems, Hip Hop, free verse.
I am not restricted.
Words are and there is but one source.
To hold back a word flow based on a construct
is to hold back a life
because of a debt, a doubt, or a fear.
(End)
Debts, doubts and fear; oh how they hold people back.
I have already established the fact that money was not a big issue for me. As long as there are good people out there, money does not have to be a concern. Give when you can give... and always give when you can give... and take when you need and only when you need. I was not always like this however. When I started at the callcenter I was going to work hard, buy nothing, spend next to nothing, and chisel away at my debt... which was above $13,000 at the time. When you are making $10 an hour... this is a very slow process and a very frustrating reality. I learned to ignore my financial reality and focus on the more tangible things. It will still be nice to get out of debt... but I would rather live and live a bit more free than try to get out of debt A.S.A.P. If you give them the minimum, they stay off your case. If you can swing giving them more... go on and do it. This mode of operation worked out much better for me and I found that I still had times where I could get rid of a larger chunk of my debt than just the minimum payment. Needless to say, money was just a thing that came and went and was not the be all and end all factor in the life that I have chosen to lead. If I were to hitch hike across the country... I could do it. Period. All it takes is the act of doing it and the will to follow through.
Doubts and fears were a different story. My head was clouded over with so much doubt a year ago, but it seemed the storm was passing, or at least a lot more patchy with sunny breaks. Doubt is a nasty thing to have to deal with. Are you sure? Do you honestly think... Approaching any goal or undertaking with this mind frame is an approach that is full of doubt. When I was deciding to hitchhike across Canada, it seemed like a rad idea. Then doubt stepped into the door. Do you honestly think that you can hitchhike across the country? Canada? It is a pretty big length. What would you eat? Where would you sleep? This is what doubt whispered into my ear when I came up with this idea.
A mind is a very complex operating system. There exists in your mind your will. What you want to do. Doubt is also a part of all minds (unless you are blessed with its absence) and is always attempting to make the mind second guess your will. God knows how many times I have decided to do something and then stopped doing it due to the process of doubt. Doubt, the whispering demon always attempting to make you turn around and walk the other way... walk the paved road. Take the bus, sit back and relax in the comforts here.
A soul flourishes when it escapes everyday monotony and the regular routine. A soul flies when it breaks the shackles that doubt puts on you. When you let your will sit in the drivers seat there is no where you cannot go and nothing that you cannot accomplish. I was aware of doubt when I decided to hitchhike across Canada. Here is a little skit of my brain at work (insight into my insanity perhaps as well).
My Will - I am gonna hitch hike across Canada... that would be really cool.
Doubt - Do you honestly think you can make it?
My Will - Sure. I can do anything I set my mind to.
Doubt - But, Canada... I mean. It is a really long way to the other side of the Country and back. Where did you want to go?
My Will - I was thinking Halifax and back is as good trip.
Doubt - HahahahhHAhahhahAHHAhaha! Are you out of your mind? Halifax! That is nearly 4000 km. And hitchhikers don’t always travel the shortest route.
My Will - Well, you do have a good point there... and it is kind of a preposterous idea... ya, what was I thinking. NO! Wait a minute you pesky... ok. Breathe. Go through this for yourself one time. What do you want to do? Yes... that is right. I wanna hitch hike to Halifax and back... it is a long way and I CAN do it. I CAN do it! I WILL DO IT!!!!
Doubt - Are you serious?
My Will - Yes!
Doubt - Seriously serious?
My Will - YES! Now get out of here.
Doubt - Suit yourself... but I still think you are crazy and that you’ll never make it.
My Will - I will make it.
(Exit doubt)
Then enters fear. Much like doubt, fear tries to over rule your will. It has quite the array of arsenal too.
“Imagine standing at the side of the road and getting hit by an out of control semi truck... doesn’t sound like too much fun now does it. You probably should just stay right here so that does not happen. How about a really big and really lonely trucker... would you like that? Starving on the side of the road in Northern Ontario until bears finally finish you off... but, on the bright side, the bears did you in quick, rather than letting the vultures kill you slowly.”
Fear had a way of taking my will out and tying it to a tree and beating it senseless. Although, at this stage of my life... I was aware of fear and had to muster up enough courage (a companion of my wills, or is it just my will’s imaginary friend?) to overcome fear and let my will into the drivers seat. Fear was big and tough and courage was the smallest kid in school and the only guy looking out for my will. Courage never seemed to be around when my will had to give up his lunch money before getting thrown head first into the garbage can.
I wanted to hitch hike across the country. This was ever so obvious to me. Although, giving doubt some credit, it did seem like a little bit of an absurd idea... one that would really need a flying leap to get into motion.
I do lots of things that I don’t want to do, but have to do. I want to hitch hike, but do not want to face fear. But in order to hitch hike I will have to face fear. So, facing fear is just like many other things that I don’t want to do, but have to do. I started to think to myself... what is it that makes me do something that I do not want to do? The easy answer was money... but money is just a surface character... a middle man in every sense. When at one of my many jobs, I would end up doing things that I despised doing. Why did I do it? I guess it was because of a bond, an understanding between me and my co workers that I would do my job. So, I decided that I needed to form the same sort of agreement with myself. A contract, if you will, that if I were able to sign, would send me on my way down the yellowhead highway. But what? How?
The answer to that question fell on my lap shortly after. Talk is really cheap, but if I could activate an agreement with myself... then I am getting somewhere. Pedro and myself had BMX bikes and like to “go for rips” from time to time. We did go for a rip on this day... we went to a hill that we saw on a walk a while back. It seemed to be pretty steep and we wanted to give it a try. Pretty steep and pretty tall on a walk is nothing compared to how a hill looks with a BMX between your legs. Wow. This hill was huge and steep and resembled death in many ways.
“Who’s going first”? I ask.
“I will.” Pedro quickly replies and he is off. This was extremely brave I thought. Down the hill he goes. His bike is shaking, he is going really fast. He can’t stop. He ends up in the woods. He is yelling and hooting and hollering. Pedro is on a natural high like I have never seen before.
“Don’t go.” He yells at me. “It is really sketchy. You go so fast. If you wipe out. You would break every bone in your body.”
Pedro sounds a lot like fear sounds in my head, I thought to myself.
“No. I gotta go. You had way to much fun. I can make it down.” I reply, seeing this as a good exercise in facing my fears.
I stand for a minute and contemplate. I go. I hit the brakes instantly, fall over and slide a ways down the hill. It did not happen for me.
What did happen for me, however, was a concept for my self contract. If I can go down that hill on my BMX, it means that I can defeat fear, that villain in my mind, and hitch hike wherever I want with my will in tact. I told my roommates that this was the plan. I told them that I wanted to do it, but they understand how cheap talking is. Telling them about the contract showed them that I was somewhat serious about the idea.
Here is a journal entry... it could say it much better than I could. I called it “Approaching Warp Speed on a BMX Bike.”
Tall, steep, steeper than it looks, taller than it is if thats possible, this obstacle stuck in my brain as I remain chilled at the top with 30 pounds of metal between my legs. I ponder the potentials as they stab, contort and rearrange my intentions. I am aware of this game being played in my mind, the battlefield, the chess game, psychologies worst guinea pig. Some go down, yet they are equipped, full suspension, disc brakes. I see them glide, some ride the brakes, all make it to the bottom and disappear. It appears to me that once again I am unfit to move a piece on the board. The chess board, in my mind. As thousands of chess pieces are flung right behind my eyes, attacking my will to go. Broken bones, arms, necks, concussions, hit trees, unfathomable carnage. I harness what little I have to try. Try desperately, to muster up what little I need, to put both feet on the pedals and let go. Let go of the brakes and all of the images. Images of the snaps, the crackles and the pops that stops me from following through. Fear, the adversary I was aware of before I left the house to destroy it. Deploy my will to ride and shatter the images of carnage like broken glass, unfulfilled, fit for decay. This was the plan when I rode to the hill, focused, intense, but aware of his upcoming attack, aware that it would be no bike ride in the park, even though that is exactly what it was. I counted down from 10 to zero, try to be a hero. Nope. Not quite. But I knew I was not leaving until I was at the bottom. Two pieces or whole, whatever would be would be. I would rather take out fear and lose an arm than live under fears clutches. Limping on crutches, far better. I would rather let this ride go through in the hands of fate than postponed by the grip of fear. All of a sudden a cheer, what I need. Three boys, joy, a BMX on the tallest, steepest hill in the city, by far. They are not easily impressed, not by a car, but this... they want to see. They point, stop, six eyes on me. Tiny eyes that I can’t even see.As they are at the bottom, I at the top. To get to the top, I must first go to the bottom. “Go man, you can do it.” They yell. They are not leaving until they see me do it.
-- Neither am I --
It was ok standing and debating when I am only wasting my own time, but now 3 twelve year old boys join the mix. I go, no hesitation, one foot, two feet, hands off the brakes. I slowly inch forward towards the path. The path of descent which inclines towards infinity the holy trinity and all interpretations of divinity. I turn the wheel. Gravity takes hold, currently the most powerful force in my universe. Fear was, but now gravity has taken over. I pick up speed and hold tight. Bumpy, windy, chaotic, out of control. Out of Control!!! Already! I haven’t even been going for a second. I reckoned this was trouble but this bubble can’t be burst. Hitting the brakes now would be a death-wish. The safest bet now is to hold on. Speed. More speed and more yet. As I travel downhill so fast I conclude... if there is one thing I don’t need more of: IT IS SPEED!!! Yet, that is all I seem to get. Speed and wind, howling, I feel like I am in a wind tunnel. My tiny agile BMX tires are moving to and fro just about as fast as my bike is travelling.
I approach Warp Speed on a BMX bike!
My friend did it and said it was sketchy. He said it was the rush of the summer but very sketchy. He psyched me out that day. I went after he made it to the bottom and warned me. I tried to go, made it ten feet and hit the brakes, wiped out and scraped my legs.
That day.
That day fear had won, but I knew that we would meet again on this hill. Round two, I went. But I started my descent down a ways from the top. I went fast, I took a blow from fear but I hit back. I was proud that night, but in retrospects spectravision fear made me half step down a half hill. I can do the whole thing yet I didn’t. Some would have called round 2 a draw.
I did not.
I failed.
Fear won.
The sun rose which meant I had another crack at it. I took it and now I am approaching the bottom of the hill at warp speed on a BMX bike. Bumpy, oh so sketchy and enthralling. There is adrenaline which I think became my blood. Time stopped, froze and I saw apace time play tricks. Just like I imagined warp speed would be like. I am at the bottom and the straightaway. I do not pick up any more speed but I am at warp. As I hurl like a meteor out of control, burning through orbit back into normal space time towards three twelve year old boys who are no doubt excited to see this I realize that stopping is my next obstacle. I hopped over fear, fear was a worthy foe, but I got the knockout blow. Now, the brakes are the problem. I hit them and the bike barely slows. I wanted to stop before the paved path but could not. My bike pumels across the path and at that instant I lock up the rear brake and skid into the woods. I come out victorious.
“Wow man! That was AWESOME!!!” Say the 12 year old boys.
I smile, “It was nothing kids.” and ride of into the sunset.
It was something though... Wow! Going down that hill was stupid, plain and simple. Reckless and ridiculous. When Pedro went, he didn’t even really think about it or look at how ridiculous it was... he just went. This is the reason why he could do it so easily. He didn’t even think about it. He did not give doubt or fear a chance. It was something that I had to do. My head is a delicate ecosystem and all factors have to be balanced so intricately. If something is out of balance there is a storm. When it rains... it pours. I was afraid of many things. Going down this hill was a symbolic gesture and a poetic expression for the fact that I could overcome these fears. It is very true that I would rather lose and arm and live free of fear than live the alternative, scared, in a back against the wall existence. Biking down that hill was a leap of faith. Letting go of everything that holds one back and giving into the flow that never stops is the goal. A flow that I am not fully in control of, but certainly a part of.
Hitch hiking, I thought, would be a lot like that bike ride. Once you start, there is no turning back. Once you have gotten a couple of rides and end up somewhere in Manitoba without a home or a friend or anything, there is no turning back and control is out of your hands. You are a part of the flow and it will take you, and anything could happen. Good or bad. You still can make choices and have some control, but much of it is forfeited to factors beyond your control. These factors were ones that I wanted to live and thrive in... to get in touch with... to get to know. I wanted to go back to the days where we had animal instincts, before we decided we weren’t animals, but overlords. When we were still within that intricate balance, within the flow, at one with everything. This was where I wanted to go, be, flourish and grow.