Rock Springs, WY

When I write these blog entries I try my best to portray real life and my experiences. There is something odd about trying to create something that is real with words. I want this to be just an in depth look at my life and how my brain works. My mind has a tendency to want to romanticize about the places, the people and events that I have come across during these times. If I were to write a story about myself, would there be enough conflict or is it something I had just created with words on a computer screen. In most all stories throughout time a story has a villain. Good overcoming evil. If I had to pick one specific thing I had to overcome in the past few years it would be my mind. My fears that had once held me back. Now I have fear of missing out on experiences. I have fear of settling in anywhere, because it may never feel like a choice to just take off and search any longer. I may be stuck. If so I may never reach that ideal life that we have all thought about. A life that is full of magick. I'll never give up on that, but sometimes it is hard. Back to writing a story. If something had to be a villain in my story, it would be my mind. But maybe I just think every story has to have a villian because most stories do, but maybe those stories do not accurately portray what real life is like. I feel like I would almost have to alter my story to include a villain in order to create a more intriugung story. After all the victory is the sweetest when the subject overcomes something or someone that stands in their way. In most cases I feel like those painted as villains in real life are not necessarily trying to stand in your way specifically. They just believe in a different way than you do. They are from different places, experienced different life events along the way and lived a different story than you have. They would believe they are doing the right thing even if it opposes you. The villains in stories seem to specifically take pleasure in others displeasure and failure, but these villains aren't real. Mostly everyone is trying their best and doing what they believe is right, they just disagree with you. So, are they villains or are villains only created in stories to create more drama. This blog is about real life. My real life, and there are no villains in it.

I spent 3 nights in Denver at a hostel in the lower downtown area. In that span I met several new friends, watched a baseball game from the cheap seats, saw a Ned Flanders themed metal band, moshed with these friends, woke up with a sore neck after rocking out with 5 Ned Flanders look alikes, went to a science and nature museum, watched a solar powered car race, tried absinthe for the first time, stayed out til sunrise, and retraced some old steps.

Last night I sat outside Union Station in Denver, suspended on a bridge. The golden sun had gone leaving bright yellow glow highlighting the Rocky Mountains to my right. The city I had seen and loved over the past two days to my left. Down below me, the train tracks that brought me here just 48 days ago. 48 days ago I stopped here on my way to New York. I wished I could just get out and explore the city, but there wasn't time. This marked the second time I wanted to see Denver, but didn't because I felt like I had to keep moving forward. Always moving, never stopping to enjoy. I had bigger things in mind. I was going to walk across America, again. 48 days later who could have guessed what was in store for me. How could I have known the sequence of events that would eventually lead me back here, only traveling in a different way. It isn't about the means of transportation, the money I spend, it is about the beautiful moments inbetween. I can almost see myself through the train window as it passes below me. 48 days younger. I don't want to tell him to stop. He has to learn for himself. I would like to say to him, if you get a chance come back to Denver sometime, you should. It's beautiful.

I ride down interstate 80 on a bus. Heading through Wyoming, the same route I walked two years ago. I watch out the window and smile as I remember the struggles I faced on this path. I can see myself sweating, pushing that red cart down the road with a dream of reaching the west coast on foot. I'm even wearing the same blue shirt I wore almost everyday from Wyoming on. I can see the spots where I camped out each night. Passing through Laramie I can see the door to my motel where I felt sick and thought I may quit. I see the park where I was eaten alive by mosquitoes. I can look at the hospital I stayed at in the distance hoping nothing was seriously wrong with me. This path was such a big part of my life at one time. A month of my life passing by me in just a few short hours. I can't help but feel the same roller coaster of emotions as I pass, like i'm watching a time lapse of my past. I now know I will never re-create the same exact experience I once had, but I am happy to know that I am creating new memories.It is nice to look back and remember that special time in my life, but I am no longer chasing that ghost. I want a world filled with places that I have experienced. I can think back and tie that place to an experience or a new friend I had met. Maybe this is my way of feeling more connected to world. I want to be a part of it, not just an outsider looking in.

I am growing to love staying in hostels and meeting other travelers and connecting with them along our journeys. It is a magickal feeling to enter a building filled with strangers in a place you have never been to leaving a few days later having experienced the city with these strangers, but now they just feel like old friends.

I am once again heading west towards Portland and should arrive on Tuesday. I think I will actually make it there this go around and not just get off the bus on a whim, but only time will tell. I have a few ideas about where to go from there, but im working on trying to enjoy one thing at a time.

Side Note (s)

Back in Tennessee I remember sitting out in front of a large Gas station. Resting, sipping water from my gallon jug. My red skin beaten by sun. I had walked about 20 miles. A skinny man with a mullet and a camouflage hat approached me to talk and then went into the store. He resembled Matthew McConaughey in Dallas Buyers Club. A few minutes later he returned.

Hey do you remember me? I was just out here talkin to ya

- yes of course, that was literally like 3 minutes ago.

ok I wasn't sure, you know I was thinkin if you need a place to stay I got a barn you could sleep in if you want. It's just down this same highway about 5 miles. I would drive you but I don't got my truck.

- Yeah, I would be interested for sure, I could probably get there in just under 2 hours or so.

Ok ok, you said you were from California right?

- Yeah I am

Alright alright, well.... are you straight?

- What do you mean? (hoping he meant something else)

Well, youre not gay or nothin are ya?

- No i'm not, I am straight.

You sure? (Not totally believing my straight claim)

-yes I'm sure

Well then, you're more than welcome to stay.

I did not stay.

I just realized I turn 27 in 6 days.

I am sitting in the very back of the bus. Two full seats to myself this time. The passenger in front of me just took a syringe into the bathroom.