Monday, June 29, 2015

What's a Word Worth?


     Music:
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVOFibwVMw0
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4fUdY1PGhY
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-RdTjI5bmg
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtGqgFyQkSY
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPE8EesftLg
     Today is a selection of music that truly defines my experience growing up for me.
     They are all meaningful pieces to me from various video games.
     If you don't listen to much "video game music" I think you may be surprised as to its depth.


     Reflection:
          My greatest weakness throughout my life has been that I have never been able to focus. The only thing I could really concentrate on was video games—that's probably why I played them so much. For any unaware, video games are more than a simple hobby for some. There is a unique sort of culture, born from the internet, behind it. Those who choose gaming as their main pursuit may even come to feel the pass-time as part of their identity. Such individuals may refer to themselves as "gamers." And for a time,that was definitely me.
     The problem with this lifestyle though is everything is an illusion. I've saved the nation, the world, the princess, or what have you, more times than I remember. I've defeated dragons and zombies and robots and armies of samurai. I've been killed by lasers or swords or claws or bottom-less pits. I've built the moon! I've explored other worlds! I've made friends, and helped them as they have helped me along whatever epic adventure we were undertaking. I've fallen in love.
     Except I didn't do any of that, I only thought I did. I was actually just sitting there, watching different colored light blink on a screen. The real world was in no way effected by my grand accomplishments. Yet when I sat down in front of the screen with controller in hand I was sucked in. I was no longer that weird kid in 5th grade getting picked on. I was no longer that awkward teenager with few social skills. I was there. I was in the game. I was the hero, doing things such as listed above. But then it hit me, almost exactly a year from today, looking back on my life, I had not actually done anything. Yeah I'd played a bunch of video games and could make conversation about them with others who also have, but had no epic tales of my own to tell (aside from my comic misadventures living in Connecticut of course). At the end of the day, when I shut the power off, the nation still had a bunch of problems, the world was still messed up, and love was still a mystery (though I was lucky in that for a time). Video games are an enthralling and captivating experience, and I have learned quite bit from them, but they give you nothing tangible to show for your efforts.
     More than anything, I wanted to be more than just a "gamer." Some people played a instrument instead, or learned some other form of art, and could now use it to express themselves. Some people practiced some trade and now they were really good at it and could use it to make a living. Some people gained valuable knowledge and could go help people in the world somewhere. I can beat more than 99% of the worlds population at Super Smash Brothers. Great... So I decided to put the controller down. I decided to pick up these other pursuits I've wanted to do but always felt that I couldn't. I started with the guitar, then started writing poetry, then just writing. The decision to go on my own adventure came soon after. And now I'm here, and you're reading my adventure blog! That alone makes me happy, but there's more to do than just blog.


     Since leaving on my journey, I've wanted to find some quiet place of solitude where I could exist for a time and focus myself on my non-cycling endeavors. Back at home, there were so many distractions, constantly, everywhere. Video games were not the only time suck. The internet and all it has to offer, for example. The line between productive endeavors and wasting hours on the following is fine indeed:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3NOYMzVC3s
     There are a plethora of activities at our finger tips at any given moment in modern living. I wanted to remove myself from all of them. Just me in the woods, with pen and paper. When I picked up the harmonica, I was excited for that pursuit as well. However, I never stopped. I just kept riding. I could have easily headed to some national forest along the way with some extra food and given even just a day—but I was afraid. I was afraid that, going where there was nothing, I would still find some way to waste my time. I wouldn't be able to focus and I wouldn't practice harmonica or writing or even read one of my books. If that happened, it would confirm a fear of mine that the only thing I'm really good at is riding a damn bicycle, and even though I could learn some other skill, I don't have the focus to do it, so I might as well just go back to teaching.
     However, since being forced to stop in one place for a while with nothing to do beyond take care of myself and my endeavors, I am proud to report that I have indeed been spending most of my time reading, writing, and practicing. This is actually a big accomplishment for me, and I have been truly and genuinely happy these past few weeks abiding by the river, humbly working on the things important to me. Now, I must find an environment that is not neutral as by the river is, but one that actually encourages and propels me to focus on learning and practicing.

     As a short aside, I still want to be a teacher. If there is any valuable skill I have, it is that to guide a person's understanding through something, specifically kids. I do not claim to be a master pedagogue but I'm pretty confident that if I know something and someone else doesn't, I can get them to know it too; if they listen. I have a couple different plans to continue teaching after my journey, but those can all wait for now!


     Story:
     I awake as usual to the neighborly chirping of the pair of cardinals who also reside here at the river. Unsure if my plan today will work, I dose back to sleep a bit, until that **** rooster across the river begins his obnoxious cockadoodledooing (just kidding, I love it). I look around my tent at the mess from the past couple weeks. With a clearer mind, I muse on just how swimmingly my plan has been going so far so I figure I had better get started. Still, moving has been difficult these past few weeks. I simply cannot move my left arm at all (though feeling and dexterous functions has returned to my left hand) and sort of gravity induced inertia results in pain. Luckily I've got good strong legs, so squatting is easy!

More later, sorry time up!
    

     Poetry:

      "Introspection Exercise"

     What's your favorite word?
     Go on, think of it.
     You really aught have one, in case you don't.
     Come back later with it, if you need some time.
     You've got it? Okay. Then we're ready.
     Now I'm sure you know that word's dictionary definition.
     But what does it really mean?
     What does it mean to you?
     Another way of asking this—Why did you choose that word?
     Don't ask me, I'm not you!
     Come back when you know.
     Alright, now that you figured that out, get another perspective.
     What does that word say about you?
     If you're not sure go ask someone!
     Finally, last question: When did this become your favorite word?
     That is, at what point in your life could you have first said, "I love this word"?

     Words have power.
     When we speak, we are literally propelling some energy into the universe.
     Energy that has direction. Energy that has meaning.
     Do not throw your word about lightly.
     It is a part of you.
     When the time comes, you may change it.
     But until then, own it.
     It is your word.
     Keep it.


     Pictures:
 Check out this awesome pyre I made.
Wish you coulda seen it go up woo-ee!
 I call this stuff fire manna.
It lights up really well.
It was everywhere 'round my tent and for a while I had no idea where it was coming from!
 Sorry Ana, I gave your harmonica away to some kids that watched me walk by everyday!
I got a nicer one in Asheville, and instruments aught to be passed on, right?
 Freshly showered, I feel like a new man!
My generous friend Brandon whom allowed me to bathe at his home also has this obnoxious pet goat.
I had to wrestle it out of the house. It was climbing on the table knocking everything over and getting into the dog food!
It's like a cat AND a dog... In one... With horns,,,
Here she is, the Ol' Girl!
 No trip to The South is complete without the impulse purchase of a vehicle held together by duck tape, zip ties, and faith!
Shhh! Don't tell Lionheart!
 Don't worry, I'll be back ina month, picking up right where I left off!
Hope it's all safe there though.
I hate to leave it behind, but I've got places to be.
 Ready to road trip!
I was hesitant to get back behind the wheel... But I've got no rules out here!
The adventure continues!
 On the road again.
Greek yogurt cups double as convenient bowls.
 I sleep in the back of a van now, so that's cool.

Monday, June 22, 2015

Quest to be Humble


     Music:
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VkXAOV-sx84
     I can do this now! (Just the harmonica part)


     Story:
     I'm giving some creative writing a try. This is something new to me. I would really really love some constructive criticism, so anything anyone reads that they feel can be improved upon please let me know. I would appreciate the comments being constructive but if you don't feel it's coming out that way don't worry about it and comment anyways. My skin's thick—I can take it.

     Ferguson woke up at 6:09am. It was a day like any other. He hit his 9 minute snooze button exactly once, as always. He groggily rolled right to a sitting position along the side of his mattress, as always. He purveyed his room for a pair of not clean but not-too-dirty socks, ignoring the several empty TV dinner containers he hadn't bothered to clean yet, as always. Today though, something caught the corner of his sight in his dimly lit room. Near the barricaded by DVDs window, just above Jurassic Park 2, was some sort of creature.
     At least that was the word that passed through Ferguson's mind as he scanned past it. The thing resembled a sort of giant flea, or a monstrous birthday balloon with several crooked ragged streamers, or perhaps a Jellyfish with a face, if face were defined very loosely. It was only slightly larger than Ferguson's foot, not including the dangly things which were twice the length of the body. It had a sort of soft light to it, like a glow in the dark toy after months of glowing a bit less and less each night. It floated in the air, its "legs" not an inch from Steven Spielberg's masterpiece. Ferguson certainly didn't know what to make of it, not that he gave it so much as a second glance.
     "Socks..."
     He found and put on a whitish pair that only smelled if your nose got within two or so feet. Other than socks Ferguson slept in his clothes—khakis and a polo shirt of a size too big—so he was now all dressed. He shuffled his way out his cramped bedroom to the other end of his tiny apartment and used the toilet. He looked at his shower as he stood and briefly considered taking one, but figured it wasn't worth the bother, as always. He shambled back through his bedroom and into the kitchen+dining table area. Ferguson loved scrambled eggs, but  figured making them was too much a hassle, so he grabbed the past expiration date milk for cereal instead, as always. He then noticed that the floaty glowy creature was now levitating about a yard away from his head. He stopped chewing and glanced to his left towards it—for about three seconds, then returned to munching his Eaty-O's
     When the food was eaten Ferguson put his bowl in the pile of bowls in the sink, as always. He tucked his shirt in, rubbed his eyes, and was ready for work. He grabbed his keys and paused at the door. Before he opened it, he let out a slow sigh, as always. Then he left. As he walked to his car he realized he forgot to brush his teeth, as always, but was late for work so he couldn't double back. He was supposed to be there at 6.
     Ferguson got into his Saturn and began to drive the .34 mile commute to work. However, after the traffic light (which was red, as always), at .18 miles, he suddenly and unceremoniously pulled over to the side of the road. A floaty glowy creature was floating and glowing above his passenger seat and an odd thought had burst into Ferguson's mind, "What the heck is that thing!?"
     To Ferguson's credit, he did not scream. His pulse accelerated to that of a sustained jog, his eyes widened, and he shifted himself towards the driver side door more quickly than he had moved in months (since the last time he was so startled, when his co-worker Rikki snuck up on him). But, he did not scream. He starred at the otherworldly creature for about one minute and thirty-seven seconds. The floating glowing oversize insect (maybe) starred back for about one minute and thirty-seven seconds. Then Ferguson noticed the car clock, which read 6:35am,
     "Shit! I'm late!"
     Ferguson drove unusually quickly the remaining .16 miles. The creature continued to float. And glow. And stare.


     Reflection:
     Life here is simple. I mean this in the absolute most positive way. I wake up, eat, and read, write, or practice harmonica. I walk to town, about 3 miles, thinking or practicing along the way. I read and research at the library, eat at the local soup kitchen, then return to my tent. I'll have a small dinner, read, write, or practice some more, or perhaps just talk to some people that came to the river to fish. There is lots of time to think in between all these endeavors. And that is all I do (hopefully my body is healing my arm during all this haha).
     Starring out at the river at night, the embers from the fire I made gently glowing, I am content. I have what I need. I only want to ask for what I need, not what I want. I'm working on needing less. I think it's working, but I guess I'll only know in retrospect.
     Here, I have found peace.


     Pictures:

 If I was in the market for a container for my potatoes I would have so totally bought that.
 Beware this evil flower. Small insects live upon it that may dig under your skin if you touch it!
 “Democracy depends on an informed population. And where can people get all the information they need? —At the Library.” Elliot Shelkrot
 Beautiful country 'round here.
 Now this here is Sting Weed. Touch it and you'll be in a lot of pain!
 This here is Water Weed.
Break it open and rub the liquid inside on where the Sting Weed got'cha and the pain aughta go away.
I found these plum-like fruits on a tree on the side of the road. Yum!
Here I am, 'wounded-traveler-by-the-river' mode.


     Poetry:

     "Meet me in Tennessee"

     This here's the country and we got it all
     from valleys to the mountains big and tall
     Take a look around'n see what we gots to see
     come'n meet me down in Tennessee

     Drinkin' smokin' gamblin' yeah we're chewin' tobacco too
     Truckin' campin' fishin' by the river—lots of stuff for you to do
     So getcher butt over here and have some fun! I said we
     are gonna come and meetcha on down in Tennessee

     If ya belly ain't full s'alright we got good eats
     Chicken legs'n biscuits, taters and choice meats
     Nothin' hits the spot like a nice cold cup'o sweet tea
     here's is where we brew it, right on down in Tennessee

     Now some got work'n they's doin' jus' fine
     Others scrapin' by without even a dime
     But don'tcha worry yer pretty lil' head none—we don't letta man go hungry
     not when he comes'n meets us on down in Tennessee

     And come ye sheep thou shalt feel his presence
     Jesus is mighty and good—pray for repentence
     Be you not humble fall here to bended knee
     We praise The Lord on down in Tennessee

     Yeah life can be hard but life can always be good
     Search for the truth and always do as you should
     Whatcha waitin' for now ya'll know it's the place to be
     come'n meet me on down in Tennessee!

Monday, June 15, 2015

Livin' ina tent down by t'river!


     Music:
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHekNnySAfM
     And here's a good harmonica resource I'll be utilizing:
     http://www.angelfire.com/tx/myquill/DiatonicTechniques.html


     Reflections:
     I am so thankful I am on this journey. I am thankful because I can see how I have changed, especially now that I have this time to stop and think. For example, the person I was when I left, just two months ago, would be feeling completely different emotions right now. I broke my arm, lost my Journal, debit card, ID, and am pretty much stuck in Newport Tennessee, which I am told has the highest crime rate in the whole of the state. I'm covered in bug bites, dirt, and sun burns, am constantly warding off all manner of arthropods, have to do everything one-handed, my other arm throbbing with pain most of the time, and I'm running out of convenient places to dig a whole (I'll just let you figure out what that's for). The me just two months ago would not have been a happy camper.
     I would have cursed this situation, letting each bit of discomfort stress me out and wear me down. I would have searched for some way out, even if it meant greatly troubling someone I loved by asking for their help. I would have given up. The pain, loneliness, uncertainty, and fear would have been too great for me and I would have quit.
     But now, not so. I sit here at the library of this small Tennessee city with resolution and determination. My path, my goals, are clear. No amount of struggle will cause me to waiver. And while I do accept the help of others, often, I do not rely on it. I have the knowledge to fulfill all my needs, and the strength to make it happen, even with just one arm. These points of growth are both humbling to me personally, but what I am most thankful for in how I have changed is that despite the aforementioned long list of complaints, I am deeply thankful for what I do have.
     A kind man who brought me to the hospital also set me up in his tent by a beautiful river. He gave me some food, including his own bread and milk. I am near enough to walk to this local library and a soup kitchen, and the many kind people of this town that I have met have been giving me water when I ask. All that is every resource I need to survive, but I am so blessed that a honest-to-goodness angel came to me for four days and helped me get to the doctor I needed to see, find the man who is holding Lionheart, and left me with several days of delicious food and several supplies that I may need. I am so so so thankful for all these things, and as I sit by or inside my tent, reading, writing, thinking, or practicing harmonica, I do not lament my menial hardships but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the many gifts given to me. It is precisely that change from just two months ago that I am acutely aware of and most thankful for.
     I am certain that as I continue down my path, there shall be more and more hardships. I'll admit, when my arm broke I was a bit overwhelmed by it all and got a little melodramatic (sorry). However, I'm proud that I never even considered giving up and am actually enjoying the experience to the point where I can say I'm glad I broke my damn humerus—not that I plan on doing it again.
     Lastly, a more anticipated change (though the extent of which can never be known until felt) is my broadening perception. What is life like in Tennessee? How is it different from Connecticut? How is it the same? What are the people like? What is nature like? Before I left Connecticut, I could only guess as to the answers to these questions using information mostly gathered from movies or hearsay. But now, I am gaining a much better understanding of the answers to these questions, for Tennessee and for other places I have traveled through and explored. By seeing and understanding the different ways that people live their lives I gain a deeper understanding of the human condition. Currently I am experiencing life in small town Tennessee, and it's a real tatter
     With all that being said, I still have one thought persisting in my mind. I saw a news report about a teenager that got attacked by a shark. They lost their arm. A woman I met in town showed me some pictures of a family in the Philippines that her church was supporting—they have to walk several miles just to get fresh water, among other hardships. I read an article about refugees from a war torn African country being taught English here and how thankful they were for that opportunity. I've seen people at the soup kitchen coming in with their whole family in toe. I've met people that are not on the road by choice like me, but were kicked out of their homes years ago and just don't know any other way to live. No matter how tough things are, things are tougher for someone else somewhere. The world is filled with suffering. I want to live my life and complete my goals, but I feel privileged that I can even begin to think such thoughts. Why am I so lucky? Why has my life been so blessed that I may even have these choices? I have absolutely nothing to complain about. My entire life has been easy and fantastic compared to the trails of some people. I am who I am and I suppose I can't apologize for that, but I can't pretend to be something I'm not. I'm a dude from Connecticut, exploring my country, learning about it and its people, and I am lucky to be alive.


     Pictures: 
Here's where I'm livin'
I've got everything I need.
Someone fishing left this soft blanket behind.
Perfect to sit on a watch the fire.
When I open the box of hazelnut cookies I have the tent doesn't smell so bad.
Once the morning sun hits the tent it starts to heat up.
That and some cheery birds are my alarm clock.
This is a popular fishing spot.
I meet a lot of people that are just coming by for that.
Made it to Knoxville to see the doc.
Only able to explore it a bit, but it seemed like a cool little city.
Pyre is ready to go.
Gettin' some harmonica play in.
I can't make a sound box or wahwah effects but at least I can practice
The space inside the sticks heats up like an oven until the whole thing goes up.
The you can just place big logs in there and the heat will light them up too!
Gave a quick TED talk about not climbing wet logs at midnight.


     Poetry: 

     "Vacation"

     Lost in darkness, both you and I
     Grasping, confused, easy to be led astray
     Through the storm, you found the way
     Brought together, night turned to day

     Now we may lean! Rest upon one another
     Hardship, struggle, just words from the past
     For we hold a secret, guide die being cast
     With the other in sight, we consider ourselves last

     So we are one, in our bubble of wood and starch
     Whether resting in shade, by a river of life
     Or endeavoring in sun, our only tool my knife
     All is bliss, every moment with joy is rife

     And language fails to tell us what we are
     Superfluous, for we understand in our hearts
     As life flows by, washing up sweets or tarts
     Our love is timeless, connecting all our parts

     But just as the day must always come to end
     You take your leave with the setting of the sun
     My fuel for fire. My lantern in the night
     Your care gave me hope. Your wings gave me flight!
     How would I ever have found my way, without you, my light!?

     And when again will I see the way fire lights your face?
     When again will I hold you in my embrace?
     When again will I know you and your taste?
     I hold faith, that my path will one day lead again to you
     'Til that time, as you brighten the lives of the people you choose
     Know that your place in my heart never shall you lose
     For you have taught me just as much as I have taught you.

Monday, June 8, 2015

Unexpected Turns - A New Chapter of the Journey Begins


     Music:
     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dd20sr5OIrw


     Pictures:
  This man's name is Lotz.
He taught me the art of the sign.
Which is part of the ancient art of asking.
Remember—be careful what you ask for.
 After sleeping on the concrete step of some chapel for three hours I kinda felt like crap, so I treated myself to a Yerba Mate at this nice cafe.
The nice cashier gave me some free iced tea and lemon water.
Just what I needed.
 Not wanting to sleep outside again, I worked for a day at this farm for room and board.
Amazing people (and amazing food). My time there shall be remembered.
I met these cool dudes through another cool person that I met by chance at a farmer's market.
We played magic cards in this park at midnight!
 This is the first time I have ever jammed!
I'm still working on learning the harmonica but I hope I did well enough.
 We got Father Time on guitar!
Ki'ev on drum!
Sara on vocals and ukelele! (she's gonna be famous one day for sure!)
And Justin on Harmonica!
THIS WAS SO COOOOOL!!!
 This is one of my favorite moments of my journey so far.
I plan to continue blowin' into that thing 'til I can reeeally play it!
And I can't wait to jam again!
Asheville was SO rad that if I didn't escape when I did I may never have left!
I'll definitely return one day.
So long Asheville! Coolest city so far!
 Camped along another beautiful river, The French Broad!
 Good Morning (:
Welcome to Tennessee!
 That's the arm that broke!
The fated camp site.
I wonder, had I kept riding, would I have avoided my injury?
Logic implies yes, but I truly believe that if we don't learn our lessons, it is only a matter of time before they are taught to us. Again and again if necessary.


     And when I was brought low:
     (This was the original post. Everything else was added in afterwards).
     First of all, I want to apologize to anyone reading this. Last week I wrote about conceit vs. low self-esteem, and I feel I have to admit now that I had grown conceited. Not so much in the way that I thought I was better than anyone else, but more in my general capabilities. Certainly, I'm a decent cyclist, and I suppose that's nice. However, there's more to the world than feet rotating pedals, and I have so so much to learn. I think it is important for all of us to remember that no matter who we are, what we've done, or what we're doing; we have so so much to learn.
     Secondly, I want to admit that I have been gluttonous. I tried pairing that gluttony with extreme generosity to counteract it' but it doesn't work that way. We aught be as generous as we can be anyways, not use good deeds to excuse or balance out any of our behavior we know to be unrighteous.
     What am I really trying to do out here? What am I looking for? What am I trying to accomplish?
Am I just gallivanting around the country on a bicycle, taking hand-outs from people that think it's cool? Are my words, either from mouth, pen, or hand, just wind? I am truly trying to improve myself here—to work on my weaknesses and grow to a stronger person—but perhaps I am having too much fun.
     So I failed. I messed up. I blew it and I'm sorry. Climbing onto a log, I placed my foot on a piece of wood jutting out and began lifting myself, but the wood was rotted and it collapsed. I feel, and my arm slipped in between two crossing beams of fallen tree.
     Snap.
     I broke my left arm.
     It's really all my fault. I see this as punishment for my aforementioned transgressions.
     I want everyone to know though that I am not giving up. This is part of my journey. Another trial to overcome. Another mountain to climb. I guess I'll be stuck in Tennessee for a while though haha! After all, I do believe I have said that I would die before returning home in failure. I meant that.
     Most of this week was an adventure in Asheville, which was an awesome city by the way! That'll have to wait for a while though. My things are safe, but I don't know where they are. Much of my stuff I may be parting with as well..
     Regardless, my goal remains clear. To cross this country using my own power—my own two legs. Even brought low, I shall not quit. Thank you all for believing in me. We struggle through the darkness to reach the light. Love you all <3


     Poetry:

     "Never Stop Improving"

     Upon wings of Steel my pride grew strong
     Over mountains and valleys I flew along
     For what was I searching? For what did I long?
     To be better? Deserving? Oh! I was so wrong.

     And as I received that which I sought
     Small gratitude in my heart was wrought
     More and more. Gifts given for naught
     More and more. To consume was why I fought

     Corruption. Temptation. So easily lured
     Sweet voice of truth—bitter choice to go unheard
     And even after breaking my word
     Still a hand outstretched—if only I'd learned

     Thus my wings were clipped and so I fell
     Once descended 'tis clear to tell
     Each sign ignored as conscious would yell
     Timeless presence with pain and ones failure is hell

     Yet from this pit we can escape if we fight
     Goodness give us strength. Wisdom give us sight
     We stride through darkness of night
     For the greater the darkness, the greater the light.

Wednesday, June 3, 2015

The Mountain


     Music:
     From now on I am going to choose some song selection that I feel is most appropriate for the most common sort of emotions I felt during my travels of the week. I suggest listening while you peruse the rest of the update, at least once. Maybe while viewing the pictures is best, but I'll put it up top anyways. For those perhaps unaware, simply open this link in a new tab and (assuming youtube and sound work correctly on your device) you should be able to read with the music in the background. If you have a smart phone you are on your own, I don't know how those things work haha!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQWAcgefsQQ


     Disclaimer:
     Before my usual narrative wall of text, I wanted to bring to discussion my feelings and position on two more controversial activities I engage in; them being the "diving" of dumpsters and the use of cannabis.
     Yes, I smoke marijuana. It is true. I actually just started about a year ago—I got through 27 years of my life without ever altering my mind, so I think I did pretty good. I have never touched alcohol and don't plan to ever, or at least until I'm like retired or something. I definitely find it interesting when someone who regularly imbibes seems to look down on me for the use of the plant, but I try to let that go (I just don't really see the difference). I do worry that some folk I may give my blog out to will think less of me knowing that I indulge in the weedy vice, but I can only assure every reader that I am in control of my utilization of the THC and that I am not, in fact, some crazy pot-head joy riding my bicycle across the country.
     Also, the practice of "dumpster diving." For those who do not know, supermarkets throw an amazing amount of perfectly good food away every day. Honestly, it is completely appalling how much food is wasted. People are starving in Philadelphia while less than 20 miles away Trader Joe's is dumping just expired but completely edible calories into their trash. Even going so far as to padlock the dumpsters, or worse, destroy the food matter in a compactor. Ugh, I hate those things. So yes, in an effort to not only supplement my food spending, but also allow me to be much more giving with both my money and food, I literally ride to the back of supermarkets and hop right into their dumpsters in search of edible food. I am not ashamed of this at all, and will greet the normal patrons with a smile and a wave as I ride through the parking lot to check out the stores back end. I have found loafs of bread, days worth of fruit, vegetables, yogurt, milk, frozen pizza, snacks and cookies, you name it.
     The best find so far (and I challenge any other D'Ders to top it) was three still cold cartons of ice cream. Let me tell you, I felt totally blah and sluggish that morning, but when I found a vanilla bean and two chocolate peanut butter ice cream liters just sitting atop the rubbish, I perked right up. I obviously couldn't take the ice cream with me with no way to keep it cold, so I pigged out right there behind the store, and have never felt better about an ice cream binge haha!
     Perhaps my engagement of these two things makes me a hero in the reader's eyes, or perhaps a degenerate. I leave that to you to decide. Regardless, please keep in mind that nothing I ever do happens without careful thought.


     Thoughts:
     If I can say nothing else about myself, I will say that I am extremely hard on myself. There is a careful line I tread between self-confidence in my accomplishments and whatever I feel just isn't good enough. If I'm too easy on myself I won't try hard enough. If I'm too hard on myself I may decrease my moral to a point that it will affect my performance negatively. Low moral can be absolutely debilitating, so that mind-state needs to be monitored and kept in check consistently.
     What we also want to avoid is going too far in either direction. Firstly, aside from making me a total jerk, complete conceit is just untrue. I have personally met people much more amazing than I, doing or having done things greater than what I am attempting to do. These are the people I especially wish to meet the most. Rather than feel inferior, I seek to learn from such individuals and strive to be more like them. The more conceited I am the harder such an attitude would be to have.
     Secondly, a complete lack of self-worth is also unfair and untrue. I'm trying really hard out here and even though I don't think I'm better than anyone—we all have our story, our path, the things we must learn—I do think I have/know something valuable that, for instance, the unhappy looking man with the bottle in his hand may not have/know. Perhaps this is only true because of gifts given to me along my way, or because of the different myriad of decisions the each of use made in our lives.
     Regardless, my ideal is to prematurely judge no one. That can sometimes be difficult, for us all, but I believe it is possible. When you take the time to meet and get to know people on a closer level that look completely different than the sort of people you may usually see yourself associating with, I do believe you will find that they will be surprisingly more human than you thought.


     Story:
     As I came down a large hill going into the small city of Lenoir, North Carolina, I got my first glimpse of my next and greatest challenge—Appalachia. Whichever ridge I happened to see from afar was massive, not at all comparable to the rolling hills I'd been rolling over through North Carolina so far. Up to that moment, I had been simply focused on 50+ miles a day, Asheville by Monday. That's it. But when I saw those mountains I knew, a major obstacle lay before, and it was going to be the most demanding challenge I have faced yet.
     So, I needed to prepare. I stocked up for the mountain, finally going inside one of these Food Lion grocery stores I had yet to enter (they had the best dumpsters in North Carolina haha) to get some protein. I was going to need it. I checked their dumpster too, of course. That one was actually a bust, but just down the road at the Aldi I received the aid I sought. Oranges, strawberries, a couple things of brie cheese, bagels—there was food for several families for days in there. I took what I could carry and headed to the local library to rest and eat.
     I did not make it in time before they closed but had this frozen pizza from a dumpster and decided to experiment: could I cook this to an edible level just by placing it in the sun? The answer is yes! And even better, cooking a frozen pizza in the sun is a great conversation starter. One little girl, from the window of the SUV she was in, said, "Are you cooking a frozen pizza in the sun!? You are awesome!" All in a days work small child. Hopefully I'll find a few more in some dumpsters along my path to continue to impress youngsters with.
     As I approached the base of the mountain the night before I planned to climb, looking for a safe campsite, an ancient voice of Earth and Green resonated in my being. The presence was heavy and real, speaking in a voice that could not be called voice using words that could not be called words.
"So young man, you want to climb these walls?"
"No. The walls I want to climb; they are only in myself."
     With that, sun receded behind trees and darkness fell over me, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the mosquitoes, the latter cleverly attacking the back of my knee, the former not so cleverly attacking the back of my mind. I treated myself to a large dinner of fruit, crackers, cheese, and yogurt. I figured I would need every bit of energy and morale boost I could garner. I did not know exactly what challenge lay ahead. I only knew what I had done up until this point and how I felt. What I had done to this point was not a mountain, at all, and I felt tired and sore.
     The next day began slowly, with my ipod dying after giving me my final bit of encouragement, Neil Young's "Heart of Gold." I would have to achieve this feat on my own, with no musical emotional support. The mountain came slower than I thought, and I did not realize I was climbing it until I was definitely climbing it. For those who may have a hard time imagining, a simply unending uphill, extending further and further after every turn. The road went on and on, up and up. I would say at first I had to break every fifteen minutes or so, just to catch my breathe and hydrate.
     I eventually came across, somewhere past 2000 feet elevation,  a "Biker Rest Stop" and, needing water, figured I'd head inside. The sign was referring to motorcyclists, but hey, I got two wheels. We can vibe, right? It turned out to be just a loving project from a devote couple and their friend, bringing the word of Jesus to anyone who would listen. The fine people there gave me water, food, and wisdom. While the H2O was needed, the calories greatly appreciated, and their guiding words provoking, what these people truly gave me was much greater. Love. Just a sincere ear to listen, sincere words spoken earnestly with a desire to help, and real needed gifts of food and water. I left the rest stop after hours of talking and sharing feeling refreshed and motivated.
   
     I am unfortunately out of time on the library computer, so for now the pictures below will have to tell teh rest of the story. I'll update this when I can. Love you all <3
   

     Poetry:
     This poem was inspired by my time in Virginia and Carolina. I'm going to make a Carolina version of it, sometime. For now, if you want the Carolina version just read it in a deep Southern accent and change "Virginia oh Virginia!" to "Carolina sweet Carolina!"
     Also, "you" to "ya'll" and drop several words determined by some grammatical rules I've yet to figure out. Southern dialects are really fun haha!

     "Heart. Land."

     Virginia oh Virginia! Beauteous land!
     Fertile and rich, you leave me no want
     —but to defend you, with rifle in hand
     my spirit stays here, though I cannot.

     Virginia oh Virginia! Will you remember me?
     I am leaving you for horizons unknown
     Take care of Mother, whilst I journey across the sea
     For my Brothers! I fear we shall not all return home.

     Virginia oh Virginia! How could I ever let go?
     Mere reminiscence and heart is untame
     like great Jackson or Lee, rising to any foe
     and yet bottle in hand remain.

     Virginia oh Virginia! What am I to you?
     Glittering firefly lit fields astound
     as memories of them fade, I knew
     I've let both her, and myself, down.

     Virginia oh Virginia! Can we not peacefully live?
     Simple, good, and kind, we each here aspire
     To hold any small piece of you, I would give and give
     Yet behind ever smiling face, what does each here desire?

     Virginia. Oh, Virginia. When again may I behold?
     Past does not stay in hand; it fall!
     Your future was never mine to mold
     for change must cometh, to one and all.


     Pictures:
     As there was significantly more riding and less not riding this week than others so far (and the camera battery didn't die), we have more pictures! Yaay!
Climbin' mountains for 'Merica!

Sometimes you camp in some odd places, like behind Wal-Mart. 
Sometimes you camp in some spooky places, like this abandoned home I dare not approach. 
They do things differently in the South.
I did not know what to make of this airborne cage of puppies, built aside the road seemingly as an intentional sort of advertising.
I wonder if blatant cruelty increases puppy sales?
Had lunch under the ivy.
The ol' county market ain't seein' much business no more.
There's a Food Lion grocery store just across the street.
Ya can't resist change when the deal is so convenient nobody will think of a good enough reason to question it.
I camped at a nice park in the interesting city of Winston-Salem. Didn't stay long, but "White Money" would be a good way to describe the area, from my first impressions.
The park I stealth fully camped at was filled with mulberries, which were my dinner that night! 
This is how most of North Carolina looked. 
 Sometimes you camp in some beautiful places, like in this meadow.
A light but nutritious dinner.
That's protein powder in that bag, if you couldn't guess. 
I could not wait to see the sky that night.
I wrote te above poem looking at the stars and the fireflys shine away. 
Pizza is cooking. It worked! Sort of! 
Sometimes you camp in some ironic places, like this little nook nestled between several "family campsites." all outfitted with complete RV hook-ups, bathroom/showers, water slide, and each blasting pop music into the night. 
Pictures never do the majesty of mountainous landscapes justice, but here I am the eve before the ascent, on a hill just able to see some of the ridges. 
The midst of a long day. I didn't know it, but I was just getting started.. 
Thanks Aldi, just what I needed! 
The end of a long day.
I'm actually more tired than I look.
Day 2. Time to climb Mount Mitchell. 
No reason to hold back any more!
Break out the protein bars!!
KE-OH-KEEEEEN!!!!
http://33.media.tumblr.com/f3aace7e0b7e0a9222c426d25340ab3c/tumblr_n1ol19qSIw1t6ns60o1_500.gif
I made it to the top!
Riding on the Blue Ridge parkway was the most absolutely amazing—and challenging—ride I have ever had.
I implore my fellow cyclists to ride this road one day. It was kind of like the AT, for bike riders.
Driving it is a good idea too, I guess (; 
I met a great man on the mountain that offered me a place to sleep, eat, and shower when I got into town. My adventures in Asheville start with this meal! Tune in next week (;