I began traveling running away from a life I wanted nothing to do with. Two years later, I find myself sprinting towards this idea I've managed to concoct during those thousands of hours I spent wrapped in solitude, working on some shit and trying to figure out how I want my verse to read in this grand story they call the universe.
There I was, stuck in St. Louis for a week before I decided to walk out by means of I-70. @h0pe had hit me up, we decided to meet in Denver after chatting for a day or two. After a series of small rides, I'm in BFE, dunno which state. Then I meet Holly, the beautiful soul that walked up to me at the truck stop and asked where I was headed.
"West!" I replied, guitar in hand just idly strumming away to pass the time.
"Well, come on! Thats where I'm headed!"
Hop in the semi, meet her two dogs (CUTE AS FUCK, BTW), and off we go. I forget exactly where we split paths, but the time we DID spend together just flew by, lost in good conversation and good times.
A few more short rides later, and I meet a woman headed to Cali to live with her girlfriend. It was awesome to hear of a successful long distance relationship that actually...worked out
Denver comes into view, this massive city sprawling north and south as far as the eye could see. Tons of folk had already wished me an OMINOUS good luck, and memories of being stranded in St. Louis were still fresh on my mind.
"You said you're headed N from Denver, right??"
"Mmmmmhmmmmm, whatcha thinkin?"
"Mind if I tag along til Laramie?"
"For sure!"
And so I did (SORRY HOPE!)
I'm dropped off at the Petro station in Laramie, WY. I've stayed here before, but in the cab of a semi truck on my first adventure west to California. I remember writing that I had found home on the road at this EXACT Petro Station, specifically in the giant field behind it.
So I setup Camp Tramp directly on top of where I stood about two years ago. This was the scene I faced upon waking up:
And from there...I was torn. Do I head back to Denver, or continue to somewhere else? Flipped a coin, the coin pointed West.
Rock Springs, WY - Grand Teton and Yellowstone are a quick hitch N up the backroads. Always wanted to see both. The rides were awesome, the walks were inspiring.
Lesson learned, note taken: Hitch the backcountry as often as ya can.
I arrive in Jackson, WY. 20mi south of Grand Teton. I INSTANTLY fall in love with it. First thing's first -- I need cash. I HAD a gold tooth, but it fell out and has been rattling in a container and bugging the shit out of me for like a week.
Sell that.
Sell some extra gear.
Busk for a few hours.
Got a couple hundred to toy with.
But its time to make camp and figure shit out. I wanna climb Grand Teton, but I need things. Also need to do some research...I've never CLIMBED a mountain with technical routes which APPARENTLY require equipment.
Enter: Pearl St. Bagels & Coffee
I haven't had a proper cup of joe in like 2 weeks. Every drink tastes like Jesus Christ jacking off all up in and around your mouth. I go out for a smoke and see this:
Looks like I found the location for Camp Tramp. It was a hell of a climb, and I decided to walk right up its face. I tore my legs up from the numerous falls, and I'm still kinda shaken from the two times I almost went tumbling backwards.
And halfway up, I see that there are MUCH easier trails to take than the one aiming RIGHT UP the face of this beast. But I had already begun, I must finish the thing I started. Its not about how easy or hard something is, its about how WORTHY it is. I had to know I could do it.
And so I did.
And I ugly-face sobbed for at least 10 minutes. Spent the remainder of the day exploring the woods, just me and Ella (my guitar)
I woke up woth the first crack of light, and spent two hours watching the sun come up and over the mountains, thanking the universe for the things it has given me.
At the end of it, I found myself addressing God directly. Asked him to give me something I alone cannot handle, and for him to come help me fight it so we could get to know each other better.
And so I sit in the coffee shop again this morning, eagerly awaiting whateverthefuck that might end up being.
There I was, stuck in St. Louis for a week before I decided to walk out by means of I-70. @h0pe had hit me up, we decided to meet in Denver after chatting for a day or two. After a series of small rides, I'm in BFE, dunno which state. Then I meet Holly, the beautiful soul that walked up to me at the truck stop and asked where I was headed.
"West!" I replied, guitar in hand just idly strumming away to pass the time.
"Well, come on! Thats where I'm headed!"
Hop in the semi, meet her two dogs (CUTE AS FUCK, BTW), and off we go. I forget exactly where we split paths, but the time we DID spend together just flew by, lost in good conversation and good times.
A few more short rides later, and I meet a woman headed to Cali to live with her girlfriend. It was awesome to hear of a successful long distance relationship that actually...worked out
Denver comes into view, this massive city sprawling north and south as far as the eye could see. Tons of folk had already wished me an OMINOUS good luck, and memories of being stranded in St. Louis were still fresh on my mind.
"You said you're headed N from Denver, right??"
"Mmmmmhmmmmm, whatcha thinkin?"
"Mind if I tag along til Laramie?"
"For sure!"
And so I did (SORRY HOPE!)
I'm dropped off at the Petro station in Laramie, WY. I've stayed here before, but in the cab of a semi truck on my first adventure west to California. I remember writing that I had found home on the road at this EXACT Petro Station, specifically in the giant field behind it.
So I setup Camp Tramp directly on top of where I stood about two years ago. This was the scene I faced upon waking up:
And from there...I was torn. Do I head back to Denver, or continue to somewhere else? Flipped a coin, the coin pointed West.
Rock Springs, WY - Grand Teton and Yellowstone are a quick hitch N up the backroads. Always wanted to see both. The rides were awesome, the walks were inspiring.
Lesson learned, note taken: Hitch the backcountry as often as ya can.
I arrive in Jackson, WY. 20mi south of Grand Teton. I INSTANTLY fall in love with it. First thing's first -- I need cash. I HAD a gold tooth, but it fell out and has been rattling in a container and bugging the shit out of me for like a week.
Sell that.
Sell some extra gear.
Busk for a few hours.
Got a couple hundred to toy with.
But its time to make camp and figure shit out. I wanna climb Grand Teton, but I need things. Also need to do some research...I've never CLIMBED a mountain with technical routes which APPARENTLY require equipment.
Enter: Pearl St. Bagels & Coffee
I haven't had a proper cup of joe in like 2 weeks. Every drink tastes like Jesus Christ jacking off all up in and around your mouth. I go out for a smoke and see this:
Looks like I found the location for Camp Tramp. It was a hell of a climb, and I decided to walk right up its face. I tore my legs up from the numerous falls, and I'm still kinda shaken from the two times I almost went tumbling backwards.
And halfway up, I see that there are MUCH easier trails to take than the one aiming RIGHT UP the face of this beast. But I had already begun, I must finish the thing I started. Its not about how easy or hard something is, its about how WORTHY it is. I had to know I could do it.
And so I did.
And I ugly-face sobbed for at least 10 minutes. Spent the remainder of the day exploring the woods, just me and Ella (my guitar)
I woke up woth the first crack of light, and spent two hours watching the sun come up and over the mountains, thanking the universe for the things it has given me.
At the end of it, I found myself addressing God directly. Asked him to give me something I alone cannot handle, and for him to come help me fight it so we could get to know each other better.
And so I sit in the coffee shop again this morning, eagerly awaiting whateverthefuck that might end up being.
