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It has been a while since I've slept in my tent. I had all but forgotten the joys. And the sorrows of outdoor life. I have been off the road for four days. And managed to upset one or two people. They were convinced I was dead.
I'm not. I apologise. I did not mean to cause you undue concern. I was just having trouble keeping up with my blog. Indoor life wears me out. And gives me too much time to think about how I might bolt my sentences together. It makes it hard to write.
I did have the wits to notify my mother. One would hate to upset the old bird. Last time I went to ground for two days she threatened to call the police. As if I don't get enough of their fawning attention. They're all over me as it is. I would just as soon not be cuffed and beaten at my mother's behest.
More likely than not, I will survive this adventure. I was not always so sure. I figured my chances at 50/50 on the day I left home. It wasn't something I thought much about. Still I expected to die. I wonder why it did not bother me a good deal more than it did.
Snakes, bears, murder gangs. I did not imagine specifics. Strange, though, that I'm still around now. Today was my most dangerous day yet.
I left my motel at eleven or so. I was not sorry to go. The Motel 6 in Mobile, Alabama serves as a brothel of sorts. And a gathering place for crackheads and thugs. Tom Bodett ought to blush. A fellow takes his life in his hands every time he steps out for ice.
I did meet a lovely naked girl. She seemed to like me a lot. And proposed a sort of business arrangement. Now it was my turn to blush. Which she insisted was very charming. That made me blush even more. You might have thought me more worldly, but I'm fairly pure of heart.
I had to zig-zag out of Mobile. So said Google Maps. That city is built on the edge of the sea and there were only two ways out. The interstate is off-limits to me which meant I had to head north. Through what everyone has been glad to tell me is "the most dangerous part of town."
And I didn't just shoot through it either. I took the scenic route. Google Maps does not seem to care if I get drive-byed or not. But I was fine. I'm new in town. I have no enemies. And I may even have a friend or two. A few people stopped by to talk.
"Whatever you have to do, make sure you get out of here before dark."
Which was in fact my only intention. I had bridges to cross. And traffic to negotiate. It's the cars that scare me the most. Mobile is a big busy town, and not designed for pedestrians. I cannot run and carry my pack and I had some big streets to cross.
I was only lost once. I had taken the time to write my directions down. Six or ten miles took me to a bridge, the tallest I've been over yet.
Cochrane Bridge, it calls itself. Man, was it up in the sky. I wouldn't have made it yesterday through all of the rain and fog. There was a good wide shoulder, but I could not make good use of it. I was walking near traffic to keep away from the shoulder which was about ankle high.
I'm sure there were some great views from up there. I did not waste time looking around. I had one glance and from what I could telll, Mobile is a good looking town. With lots of trees and sea-driven mists. They have a modern downtown. With one big pointy building and one little pointy building and one medium-sized boxy thing. And a vast seaport and some lovely homes and a Waffle House on every corner.
I did not hit the Waffle House today. I could not afford the time. I've had nothing to eat but two bottles of Coke and a selection of Hostess products. Bought from bait shops and gas stations. I'm working on a significant wooze.
Over the bridge is an industrial park. There I had trucks to dodge. And fumes to inhale. It was a trafficky walk with not much shoulder at all. I had to walk in the grass with the "far ain'ts," a powerful local menace. They'll kill you just as soon as look at you. And then burn down your house.
I was still nervous about my road. I wasn't sure I could get over the bay. And I'm still not sure but I'm less concerned. Find me on an island in the middle. Camped just off the Causeway at a wide spot in the road, about four inches above sea level. If it so much as drizzles tonight I will be swept out to sea.
Still it's a testament to my hobo skills. Not everyone would have found this spot. But I still had two long narrow bridges to go and it was getting dark.
"It's a blessing to be on the water like this." So said a man on the road. And no doubt it is. It's beautiful here, down on the edge of the sea. There are seafood restaurants and places to fish, but for the most part it's a long strip of road. Interspersed with dangerous bridges, a mile or two out in the bay. But I haven't had much time to look around. I'm just trying not to get squished.
I SPENT A WEEK in a brothel in Bangkok. I thought it was a hotel. My next hotel was also a brothel. What are the odds? I wondered. Not as steep as you'd guess.
CHEERS to Miss Tiffany, the usurer, who let me plug in at her loan office. I was cheered by your smile.
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