Anyone else purposively choose to hitch lonely highways like highway 50? You have nothing but sagebrush and dirt from my memory and some barbwire fences.. a hotspring eventually that I never visited. When I found myself on the road and was unsure what to do I liked to choose lonley highways. I liked that stretch highway 60 through new mexico into arizona as well.. There was something clearing about it and you always had somewhere to sleep where noone was and noone would bother you. Then you could spend your days walking and just meditating on life with the thumb curious who it was that would stop and just where the hell you were going to end up?
I actually sometimes hitched in the direction of an idea or destination but sometimes hitched just to see where I might end up by chance as if some miracle of a doorway to a new adventure would start with someone or a turn of the road. I miss those old highways often. I also used to hitch the areas around the native reservations when tired of the city. I hated getting stuck too long in the city. It was a nice break sometimes to see the street art and possibly find a rooftop and some cafes. But truly it was the desert that called to me often or the tall trees, ocean and rushing rivers of california and oregon. But overall it was the desert that somehow made sense to me and i just found purity there.
I also loved being down in the saguaros. What a magical stretch of road it is heading up towards globe or the stretch from phoenix over to wickenburg with those cacti. Then there was the wash in wickenburg as a place when you had nowhere to sleep in the area... Then you could always head over to quartzsite for the cheap desert flea market and off grid crowd. I still miss those lonely highways though. Highway 50 I believe was actually named the loneliest highway. Some garnets to hunt outside of ELY. Hated getting stuck in Reno. Then found some little mining towns headed into Cali or would reroute up to truckee.
The sierras were nice too. Lone pine, Bishop and then Mammoth lakes... over to tahoe to camp in the pines somewhere.... Get tired of that scene you could always head down south again towards bisbee and walk for hours in the sun or camp in tombstone in the desert thinking of a time past. Ended up on the Geronimo trail quite a few times too.
I miss the road. I don't even know what to do with identity anymore. Not that identity matters but the road defined me to myself. I had become found I guess- or found myself at times with nothing surrounded by everything that mattered in creation. It wasn't about identity but finding myself or something, I had found my way I thought and my home. Nothing made sense but its movement, its promise to be never-ending and there for you in ways and the adventure of it all. Its like my soul became alive out there and when i had nothing at times i just noticed beauty more around myself. (at least on a good day)
I loved the old mining towns too. All of them became a favorite visit. I wish everyone could just get along on the planet and people would roam around more like that and be tribe family thats true. I was more solo myself but loved meeting a kindred in passing for my lonely heart and that was enough... I was alone but not necessarily lonely often on the road just due to the constant travel and meeting people in passing but often under the stars laying there staring and just talking to people that had passed on or wondering if I would ever meet someone that understood me... But I did have a lonely heart at times. Possibly I understood those lonely highways and somehow felt at home there.. as if they understood me too.
Good times they were in many ways. Anyone else just wander to wander? It just was home to me without walls. Yet I would daydream about an off grid homestead one day even though I had little funds then. But now that I am back inside I think fondly of my travels and what it would feel like to be there again.
I even start daydreaming about superlight gear and just being unknown again and moving. There is something about being unknown and moving that offers a freedom to just be oneself away from it all and then to meet the kindred in passing is such a nice gift as well..
Anyways I have had 3 cups of coffee this morning and my post was a bit jumbled. I meant to stick to writing about highway 50 because it was on my mind in ways and other lonely highways but you understand. It just was such a lifestyle. You know? It becomes almost in your blood and to your very bones.. as if you become something that the world made everyone forget yet at times its very far from perfect as well and even bad on a bad stretch. But when things are going well... those stars to yourself and the night sky and then to awake alive again to the morning dew. What a gift it was in ways to be alive and apart of all that was wild, simple and free..
I actually sometimes hitched in the direction of an idea or destination but sometimes hitched just to see where I might end up by chance as if some miracle of a doorway to a new adventure would start with someone or a turn of the road. I miss those old highways often. I also used to hitch the areas around the native reservations when tired of the city. I hated getting stuck too long in the city. It was a nice break sometimes to see the street art and possibly find a rooftop and some cafes. But truly it was the desert that called to me often or the tall trees, ocean and rushing rivers of california and oregon. But overall it was the desert that somehow made sense to me and i just found purity there.
I also loved being down in the saguaros. What a magical stretch of road it is heading up towards globe or the stretch from phoenix over to wickenburg with those cacti. Then there was the wash in wickenburg as a place when you had nowhere to sleep in the area... Then you could always head over to quartzsite for the cheap desert flea market and off grid crowd. I still miss those lonely highways though. Highway 50 I believe was actually named the loneliest highway. Some garnets to hunt outside of ELY. Hated getting stuck in Reno. Then found some little mining towns headed into Cali or would reroute up to truckee.
The sierras were nice too. Lone pine, Bishop and then Mammoth lakes... over to tahoe to camp in the pines somewhere.... Get tired of that scene you could always head down south again towards bisbee and walk for hours in the sun or camp in tombstone in the desert thinking of a time past. Ended up on the Geronimo trail quite a few times too.
I miss the road. I don't even know what to do with identity anymore. Not that identity matters but the road defined me to myself. I had become found I guess- or found myself at times with nothing surrounded by everything that mattered in creation. It wasn't about identity but finding myself or something, I had found my way I thought and my home. Nothing made sense but its movement, its promise to be never-ending and there for you in ways and the adventure of it all. Its like my soul became alive out there and when i had nothing at times i just noticed beauty more around myself. (at least on a good day)
I loved the old mining towns too. All of them became a favorite visit. I wish everyone could just get along on the planet and people would roam around more like that and be tribe family thats true. I was more solo myself but loved meeting a kindred in passing for my lonely heart and that was enough... I was alone but not necessarily lonely often on the road just due to the constant travel and meeting people in passing but often under the stars laying there staring and just talking to people that had passed on or wondering if I would ever meet someone that understood me... But I did have a lonely heart at times. Possibly I understood those lonely highways and somehow felt at home there.. as if they understood me too.
Good times they were in many ways. Anyone else just wander to wander? It just was home to me without walls. Yet I would daydream about an off grid homestead one day even though I had little funds then. But now that I am back inside I think fondly of my travels and what it would feel like to be there again.
I even start daydreaming about superlight gear and just being unknown again and moving. There is something about being unknown and moving that offers a freedom to just be oneself away from it all and then to meet the kindred in passing is such a nice gift as well..
Anyways I have had 3 cups of coffee this morning and my post was a bit jumbled. I meant to stick to writing about highway 50 because it was on my mind in ways and other lonely highways but you understand. It just was such a lifestyle. You know? It becomes almost in your blood and to your very bones.. as if you become something that the world made everyone forget yet at times its very far from perfect as well and even bad on a bad stretch. But when things are going well... those stars to yourself and the night sky and then to awake alive again to the morning dew. What a gift it was in ways to be alive and apart of all that was wild, simple and free..
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