clockwise5000
Active member
- Joined
- Jul 19, 2013
- Messages
- 31
- Reaction score
- 27
- Location
- Jackson, United States
- Website
- travelinthrulife.wordpress.com
I think I've been on this site a year or two now but have never posted in the introductions. I've only read for advice and posted in attempt to meet someone to travel with. Well, here is my intro.
I started traveling the week I graduated high school because I knew I didn't want to go to college, or at least not what I wanted to study. The plan was to walk to California. My 2 buddies bailed, I walked 100 miles into Indiana before accepting a ride from somebody. I then tried hitching and got from the Michigan/Indiana border, to St. Louis, in 2 days. I felt fortunate to find the metro close to where I got dropped off in East St. Louis.
I discovered the Katy trail, which almost spans MO from East-West, and began walking that. After about a week of walking, a guy gave me a bike and a trailer. I biked into Kansas and started the Flint Hills trail before it dead ended...
Bummed, I was pushed to move on along a 65mph road. Terrified, I kept pushing. The next town was 25 miles away. I realized I had a flat on my trailer tire... 2 flats... The fuck? My bicycle tires, too? Fuck! Thorns! I began crying. I felt defeated. I had no tools to fix this machine and probably wouldn't even know how. At 65mph I had no hope for anyone to stop. Not in Kansas.
Somebody, without solicitation, stopped to see what was up. We loaded the bike in the truck and went to a WalMart (to fix the tires). Though, I decided I'd rather hitch hike.
I read that hitching in Lawrence KS is illegal, and was too much of a novice to even try. I just felt so much resistance for the first time in my travels.. I bought a grey hound ticket back to Michigan. Well, funny story.
I asked if there were any extra seats for the next bus to St. Louis. He said he couldn't buy them online, but if I wait around we could ask the driver. The bus came, I asked the driver, and he said "we're in a hurry, so just hop on and you can buy your ticket at the next stop"
The next stop was very close, Kansas City. There was a multiple hour layover and I waited to buy my ticket. In the station I met a guy who seemed to know what was up, you know, conscious hippy shit, we talked for hours before I asked him where he was headed.. East. And walking. It was like 10 pm. And so we left.
Kansas City isn't a comforting place.. Not at night.
We walked for days, got along great. My plan was to meet up with some friends and join them for a road trip. Half way back across MO, they picked me up and for the first time ever I went to the West. For the next few months we'd stop in CO, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Washington, down the coast, then over to Flagstaff where our car broke down. We were in a hotel almost 2 weeks before I decided I would just hitch back to Michigan. They ended up taking Greyhound a few days after my decision, and I beat them back. I made it in 72 hours, and that included a full night of sleep in the desert.
That was late summer, I then worked for a couple months before winter hit Michigan.
In the Fall I went thru Michigan's upper peninsula, across South Dakota and into Washington, arriving in Tacoma for Halloween. I didn't sleep comfortably, and was awoken when someone diverged their path to walk within feet of me at 3am.
In Oregon I got picked up by a kid who was on a road trip, and we drove down the coast and to Slab City, where we stayed for maybe 2 weeks. From there, the smoothness of my trip told me it was time to go to Mexico. I was dropped off 20 minutes from the border at 6am. Got picked up by a lawyer headed all the way to Hermosillo. Fuck yeah.
I ended up spending 6 months in Mexico. I met a girl near P. Vallarta and we traveled all thru central/south Mexico.
Due to unfortunate circumstances, I had to return home. This was in the spring, 2014 I suppose. Time flies.
That summer I made a video, or a collection of clips, of that first journey. It's on Vimeo:
So I got home, made a video, and chilled out. In the fall, a friend was down to give hitch hiking a chance, so we went to Cali, headed up from the Truckee area to Chico, Redding, and then Oregon where we chilled for a month, doing some fall activities, you know.
After teleporting home for Thanksgiving, I bailed again to go south of the border to stay warm for the winter, and maybe experience other cultures south of Mexico. Maybe drink some stew in the amazon, you know?
The first time I went to Mexico, I was deported from Campeche, for not having the stamp in my passport. I thought I could make it all the way thru if I had tried again. I was stopped only a few towns from the border and told to turn around.
I was also offered a job to transport drugs back over the border. That made me uneasy..
So, the next day, I returned to the border via bus. The bus was searched 3 times by military, police, and people who don't even bother with uniforms. Fuck buses.
I crossed the border, back to the states, but not before getting drunk of course. Waiting the night in a McDonalds on the US side. I almost bought a flight to Thailand. I decided I'd stay with Central America.
I took a bus to Oaxaca and arrived at like 4am. Drank some coffee and started walking before the sun came up. Such a beautiful morning that I remember vividly, my fist time back in probably a year. I found a cool park and got some 'arroz con leche' to watch the sun come up.
Walking in the early morning to the outskirts, a man runs across 4 lanes of traffic and hands me a joint to finish. Fuck yeah!
Ah.. Memories..
I hitched to Guatemala and crossed. Went to the capital, Guatemala city. Met an artesano. He tried teaching me things. I'd love to sell in the streets, but macromey in not in my ability/patience...
I got a ride on a moped, and a ride on a boat. So satisfying.
Some buses were taken with some friends from Guate. I rented some places to stay, too.
With a friend from Guate, we crossed (waded?) the river into El Salvador and hitched to a neighborhood where his grandma lived. Some kids interrogated me as we walked thru their neighborhood, asking me what beer was sold in Guatemala. Good thing I remembered..
Solo again, I crossed into Honduras. Stayed with a couple crack users at their place. They were chill, but I was uneasy and don't appreciate being asked to donate crack money. They offered to let me sleep on their roof, which was awesome and made me feel better, but fuck.
I crossed into Nicaragua and hitched into Managua, not knowing what I was getting into. They were turning different directions within the city and then asked where I wanted to be let out, as if I should've known. "Here!" I guess, if y'all are turning off the main roads now, fuck...
I walked and walked, asking for the city center. No one understood me. The fuck?? I buy some vinegar soaked mangos and eat the middle, which is so bitter I imagine it's toxic. I spit it out. It's noon. I keep walking. At 3pm I feel sick to my stomach. Best Westerns and Hiltons line the road. I want a cheap place to sleep, or el centro (the center), or something.
I stumble into a market that is closing up. It's getting dark. Millions of people await buses. I try asking for rooms to rent but no body wants to help. A couple direct me to the police station, less than one block away.
I explain my problem to the fat lady officer sitting outside the guarded police station. She asks for my passport. The fuck. Why? I'm just asking for a place to stay!!
This whole time I'm puking every few minutes and feel oh-so weak. I'm ready to die among these million people, go back among them and lay down. A man asks what is up. He gets me onto a bus but it is so crowded and I'm ready to puke after just 1 block. I push my way off and dive into the grass of an empty lot, giving up and puking.
The man came back to get me and walked me to his neighborhood.
He tried to direct me to his friend's, tried to find a place for me to rent, but it was of no use. He was very skeptical of me, thinking I was drunk or on drugs. Everybody was skeptical of me, though I knew they understood my Spanish. Finally, hesitantly, he offered me an extra bed, shower, coconut water, etc..
I left early and just looked for a cyber or anyone to take me anywhere. I just want to move!! FUCK this city!
Some guy drives me to where I can find buses, and for $2 I get a bus ride to Granada. Oh my god. It's touristy. But so nice. I ended up doing a volcano tour and a boat tour, and then the next day hiked on my own up Mombacho.
I stopped in San Juan del Sur, hiked up to the Jesus Statue, whatever, then hitched to the Costa Rican border. Going thru farm fields I noticed a group of people about 2 lots away. I got closer and whistled. One approached me. Camo and a gun - military. Busted.
(I was legal in Mexico... but it seemed so easy after that!!)
The next day I was transported to the facility in Managua in the back of a pick up. With me there was one other illegal alien and a "cop", who seemed too young to be a cop, especially with such a loose fitting uniform and lack of gun. Anyways...
I tried to bail as we got into the city of Managua. At a stop light I hopped over the side of the truck and took off. I was almost tripped by some pedestrians waiting for a bus on the sidewalk. I turn around and the cop was getting closer. I toss my backpack aside and bolt back across the 4 laned boulevard. In a mowed lawn there are 2 security guys that I am running towards, hopping back and forth as if to figure out where to go or what to do. I throw my hands up and lay down. The funny thing was they didn't have handcuffs and used a belt to restrain me. A kind civilian brought over my gear.
Face down in the bed of the pick up they made sure I wouldn't move again. We conversed a bit. I told him that he was fast, and my reasoning for running.
Then I waited in a place with 30-40 other illegals while my paperwork was done. It wasn't a bad place to chill, not with English speaking folk, a ping pong table, a t.v., and a few books. But the food sucked. "What's for dinner today? Gallo Pinto? or Rice and Beans??" I was there for about 2 or maybe 3 weeks before I was released to Costa Rica.
It was a corrupt place. But my fee was only $90.
I took a bus to San Jose and was drunk for a few days. Sitting in my dirty motel room. I dropped some money on a skateboard and shoes, only to get the skateboard stolen when I set it down in a club while trying to get laid...
I flew back home to Michigan.. That was in February.. 2 of my buddies and I left out to go to California in March. We stopped in Mammoth Lake. Some hot springs (where we got fucked with by some cops), Big Sur, San Francisco, L.A., and San Diego (Tijuana for the day).
When we crossed back from Tijuana my friend drove his car about 60 miles East on I8 and fell asleep. We were headed to Slab City...
3 days in the hospital in San Diego.. Nothing too serious, only recovery time. Took a greyhound back to Michigan from there. God damn, never again.
Waiting here to head back out. Hope to see Days N Daze, Mischief Brew and Ramshackle in LA on 6-6.
I started traveling the week I graduated high school because I knew I didn't want to go to college, or at least not what I wanted to study. The plan was to walk to California. My 2 buddies bailed, I walked 100 miles into Indiana before accepting a ride from somebody. I then tried hitching and got from the Michigan/Indiana border, to St. Louis, in 2 days. I felt fortunate to find the metro close to where I got dropped off in East St. Louis.
I discovered the Katy trail, which almost spans MO from East-West, and began walking that. After about a week of walking, a guy gave me a bike and a trailer. I biked into Kansas and started the Flint Hills trail before it dead ended...
Bummed, I was pushed to move on along a 65mph road. Terrified, I kept pushing. The next town was 25 miles away. I realized I had a flat on my trailer tire... 2 flats... The fuck? My bicycle tires, too? Fuck! Thorns! I began crying. I felt defeated. I had no tools to fix this machine and probably wouldn't even know how. At 65mph I had no hope for anyone to stop. Not in Kansas.
Somebody, without solicitation, stopped to see what was up. We loaded the bike in the truck and went to a WalMart (to fix the tires). Though, I decided I'd rather hitch hike.
I read that hitching in Lawrence KS is illegal, and was too much of a novice to even try. I just felt so much resistance for the first time in my travels.. I bought a grey hound ticket back to Michigan. Well, funny story.
I asked if there were any extra seats for the next bus to St. Louis. He said he couldn't buy them online, but if I wait around we could ask the driver. The bus came, I asked the driver, and he said "we're in a hurry, so just hop on and you can buy your ticket at the next stop"
The next stop was very close, Kansas City. There was a multiple hour layover and I waited to buy my ticket. In the station I met a guy who seemed to know what was up, you know, conscious hippy shit, we talked for hours before I asked him where he was headed.. East. And walking. It was like 10 pm. And so we left.
Kansas City isn't a comforting place.. Not at night.
We walked for days, got along great. My plan was to meet up with some friends and join them for a road trip. Half way back across MO, they picked me up and for the first time ever I went to the West. For the next few months we'd stop in CO, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Washington, down the coast, then over to Flagstaff where our car broke down. We were in a hotel almost 2 weeks before I decided I would just hitch back to Michigan. They ended up taking Greyhound a few days after my decision, and I beat them back. I made it in 72 hours, and that included a full night of sleep in the desert.
That was late summer, I then worked for a couple months before winter hit Michigan.
In the Fall I went thru Michigan's upper peninsula, across South Dakota and into Washington, arriving in Tacoma for Halloween. I didn't sleep comfortably, and was awoken when someone diverged their path to walk within feet of me at 3am.
In Oregon I got picked up by a kid who was on a road trip, and we drove down the coast and to Slab City, where we stayed for maybe 2 weeks. From there, the smoothness of my trip told me it was time to go to Mexico. I was dropped off 20 minutes from the border at 6am. Got picked up by a lawyer headed all the way to Hermosillo. Fuck yeah.
I ended up spending 6 months in Mexico. I met a girl near P. Vallarta and we traveled all thru central/south Mexico.
Due to unfortunate circumstances, I had to return home. This was in the spring, 2014 I suppose. Time flies.
That summer I made a video, or a collection of clips, of that first journey. It's on Vimeo:
So I got home, made a video, and chilled out. In the fall, a friend was down to give hitch hiking a chance, so we went to Cali, headed up from the Truckee area to Chico, Redding, and then Oregon where we chilled for a month, doing some fall activities, you know.
After teleporting home for Thanksgiving, I bailed again to go south of the border to stay warm for the winter, and maybe experience other cultures south of Mexico. Maybe drink some stew in the amazon, you know?
The first time I went to Mexico, I was deported from Campeche, for not having the stamp in my passport. I thought I could make it all the way thru if I had tried again. I was stopped only a few towns from the border and told to turn around.
I was also offered a job to transport drugs back over the border. That made me uneasy..
So, the next day, I returned to the border via bus. The bus was searched 3 times by military, police, and people who don't even bother with uniforms. Fuck buses.
I crossed the border, back to the states, but not before getting drunk of course. Waiting the night in a McDonalds on the US side. I almost bought a flight to Thailand. I decided I'd stay with Central America.
I took a bus to Oaxaca and arrived at like 4am. Drank some coffee and started walking before the sun came up. Such a beautiful morning that I remember vividly, my fist time back in probably a year. I found a cool park and got some 'arroz con leche' to watch the sun come up.
Walking in the early morning to the outskirts, a man runs across 4 lanes of traffic and hands me a joint to finish. Fuck yeah!
Ah.. Memories..
I hitched to Guatemala and crossed. Went to the capital, Guatemala city. Met an artesano. He tried teaching me things. I'd love to sell in the streets, but macromey in not in my ability/patience...
I got a ride on a moped, and a ride on a boat. So satisfying.
Some buses were taken with some friends from Guate. I rented some places to stay, too.
With a friend from Guate, we crossed (waded?) the river into El Salvador and hitched to a neighborhood where his grandma lived. Some kids interrogated me as we walked thru their neighborhood, asking me what beer was sold in Guatemala. Good thing I remembered..
Solo again, I crossed into Honduras. Stayed with a couple crack users at their place. They were chill, but I was uneasy and don't appreciate being asked to donate crack money. They offered to let me sleep on their roof, which was awesome and made me feel better, but fuck.
I crossed into Nicaragua and hitched into Managua, not knowing what I was getting into. They were turning different directions within the city and then asked where I wanted to be let out, as if I should've known. "Here!" I guess, if y'all are turning off the main roads now, fuck...
I walked and walked, asking for the city center. No one understood me. The fuck?? I buy some vinegar soaked mangos and eat the middle, which is so bitter I imagine it's toxic. I spit it out. It's noon. I keep walking. At 3pm I feel sick to my stomach. Best Westerns and Hiltons line the road. I want a cheap place to sleep, or el centro (the center), or something.
I stumble into a market that is closing up. It's getting dark. Millions of people await buses. I try asking for rooms to rent but no body wants to help. A couple direct me to the police station, less than one block away.
I explain my problem to the fat lady officer sitting outside the guarded police station. She asks for my passport. The fuck. Why? I'm just asking for a place to stay!!
This whole time I'm puking every few minutes and feel oh-so weak. I'm ready to die among these million people, go back among them and lay down. A man asks what is up. He gets me onto a bus but it is so crowded and I'm ready to puke after just 1 block. I push my way off and dive into the grass of an empty lot, giving up and puking.
The man came back to get me and walked me to his neighborhood.
He tried to direct me to his friend's, tried to find a place for me to rent, but it was of no use. He was very skeptical of me, thinking I was drunk or on drugs. Everybody was skeptical of me, though I knew they understood my Spanish. Finally, hesitantly, he offered me an extra bed, shower, coconut water, etc..
I left early and just looked for a cyber or anyone to take me anywhere. I just want to move!! FUCK this city!
Some guy drives me to where I can find buses, and for $2 I get a bus ride to Granada. Oh my god. It's touristy. But so nice. I ended up doing a volcano tour and a boat tour, and then the next day hiked on my own up Mombacho.
I stopped in San Juan del Sur, hiked up to the Jesus Statue, whatever, then hitched to the Costa Rican border. Going thru farm fields I noticed a group of people about 2 lots away. I got closer and whistled. One approached me. Camo and a gun - military. Busted.
(I was legal in Mexico... but it seemed so easy after that!!)
The next day I was transported to the facility in Managua in the back of a pick up. With me there was one other illegal alien and a "cop", who seemed too young to be a cop, especially with such a loose fitting uniform and lack of gun. Anyways...
I tried to bail as we got into the city of Managua. At a stop light I hopped over the side of the truck and took off. I was almost tripped by some pedestrians waiting for a bus on the sidewalk. I turn around and the cop was getting closer. I toss my backpack aside and bolt back across the 4 laned boulevard. In a mowed lawn there are 2 security guys that I am running towards, hopping back and forth as if to figure out where to go or what to do. I throw my hands up and lay down. The funny thing was they didn't have handcuffs and used a belt to restrain me. A kind civilian brought over my gear.
Face down in the bed of the pick up they made sure I wouldn't move again. We conversed a bit. I told him that he was fast, and my reasoning for running.
Then I waited in a place with 30-40 other illegals while my paperwork was done. It wasn't a bad place to chill, not with English speaking folk, a ping pong table, a t.v., and a few books. But the food sucked. "What's for dinner today? Gallo Pinto? or Rice and Beans??" I was there for about 2 or maybe 3 weeks before I was released to Costa Rica.
It was a corrupt place. But my fee was only $90.
I took a bus to San Jose and was drunk for a few days. Sitting in my dirty motel room. I dropped some money on a skateboard and shoes, only to get the skateboard stolen when I set it down in a club while trying to get laid...
I flew back home to Michigan.. That was in February.. 2 of my buddies and I left out to go to California in March. We stopped in Mammoth Lake. Some hot springs (where we got fucked with by some cops), Big Sur, San Francisco, L.A., and San Diego (Tijuana for the day).
When we crossed back from Tijuana my friend drove his car about 60 miles East on I8 and fell asleep. We were headed to Slab City...
3 days in the hospital in San Diego.. Nothing too serious, only recovery time. Took a greyhound back to Michigan from there. God damn, never again.
Waiting here to head back out. Hope to see Days N Daze, Mischief Brew and Ramshackle in LA on 6-6.
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