Day Two-Hundred-Thirty-Six, Fluff

It is snowing in Seattle.  They won't get the promised two feet.  But it will be more than they are accustomed to.  Enough to shut the place down.  I am camped beside an orange tree, lonely amongst the pines.  It was eighty or so this afternoon.  It is now a chilly sixty-five.

I can't help it; it's just mind-blowing.  It is summer all the time here.  And it's not some distant exotic land.  This is downtown America.  I wonder why anyone lives anywhere else.  I told my mother as much.  "I don't want to live in Florida."  She is something of a grump.

So am I, to a certain extent.  The orange doesn't fall far from the tree.  But it is an impulse I continue to fight.  There are days I think I have it beaten.  Good weather and plenty of exercise, the Power of Positive Thought.  If I had a Reason for Living you could not wipe the grin from my face.

I did get caught in the rain today.  Life ain't all sunshine and daisies.  I managed to get myself plenty moist.  That's when the chafing begins.  But I found shelter at a Subway restaurant.  I let them make me a sandwich.  And I ate it without complaint.  My grudges are getting harder to bear.

[I've just now tried to take my own photo.  I don't look as good as I feel.  In fact I now feel a little less well, knowing how ugly I am.  But it was worth a shot; some experiments fail.  I will not share the results.  For your peace of mind; I am not vain.  I cannot afford to be.]

I slept undisturbed on the side of the road, under a beautiful tree.  A great live oak, very impressive.  It must be hundreds of years old.  I expect they'll lop it down soon enough.  Clermont is ever expanding.  Maybe they'll save it.  It will sit by the fence of a gated community.  Live Oak Acres, they can call it.  I don't think they've used that one yet.

But they may have.  There are housing developments all up and down this road.  All of them under some banal banner, often with a citrus theme.  Orange Acres, Orange Heights, Orange Hills, Orange Lake.  You lead with whatever you've got.  And I don't blame them even one little bit.  In Georgia it's the same thing with peaches. 

You don't see very much new construction.  I think the economy's still catching up.  But it will.  It always does.  And there is still some room to expand.  For my first ten miles I was in the country again.  It rather took me by surprise.  I was walking hunched over, not looking around.  I was having some trouble with my pack.  I stopped to fix it as well as I could.  I was in the middle of nowhere.  Rolling hills, covered with grass.  The odd citrus grove here and there.  One or two housing developments, but they were well off the road.  There were no strip malls, not a Walmart in sight.  It was lonesome out there.

It is not nearly as gatory as it looked to me on the map.  These are lakes not swamps.  I wouldn't swim in one for thirty-five bucks, but there are few places for gators to hide.  I'll likely see them before they see me.  That gives me a fighting chance.  Or a fleeing chance, at any rate.  Six of one, half a dozen of the next.

I have a theory that crocodiles do not like to climb hills.  So I feel safer up here.  I'm pretty sure it isn't true.  They can climb trees for all I know.  But I have a gift for fooling myself.  It is my trusting nature.

I stopped into a Wendy's for lunch.  I could not tell you where.  I'm not even sure these places have names.  I think it's just one big sprawl.  I'm happy to call it Greater Orlando.  Orlando is miles away.  President Obama is visiting tomorrow.  I hope he has a nice time.

Wendy's is not my first choice for lunch.  It's the best of the burger joints.  Cheaper and they toast their buns.  That means the world to me.  But I prefer something more mom and pop.  Some sort of local cafe.  But you don't see a lot of that in the suburbs.  And the boy has got to keep fed.

I was there a good two hours, recharging and nursing my Coke.  I rolled up at eleven, ten miles in.  I'm not walking so hard these days.  Twenty-one miles is a good enough day.  I've got enough power to do more.  But not the daylight and not the will.  This will all be over too soon.

I really wish I could walk back home.  My timing would be almost perfect.  I would hit Iowa in May or so.  I would catch the worst of Montana.  But I'm used to that.  There'd be no mysteries ahead.  Maybe that is the point.  You are only supposed to go forward in life.  You are meant to be afraid.

I really am running out of fears.  I try to play up this gator thing.  But I'm no longer nervous around people.  I've met too many of them.  Most are fairly easy to talk to.  Those who aren't, I can probably beat up.  Or outrun, if it comes to that.  It's my future that scares me.  Do you know what I want most of all?  I want people to be sad when I die.

I walked an effortless eight more miles before it started to rain.  I got to help push a Cadillac.  I love pushing cars.  It's my favorite kind of exercise.  It very much suits my build.  Top-heavy with strong legs.  This one had fallen off a truck. 

A great big semi, a transporter.  The driver did not speak English.  We got it up on the edge of the ramp.  He locked the emergency brake.  I think his plan was to zoom the truck back real fast to get it up the rest of the way.  He seemed confident he could do it.  It is something I would have liked to see.  But I was getting wet.  I wished him well.  He gave me five dollars.

I refused it.  I'm poor, but still.  There's a principle at work here.  Like I said, I like pushing cars.  I've pushed cars in Korea.  And in India and in Japan.  I pushed cars in Thailand.  I've even pushed a car in Canada.  It brings out my Kwai Chang Caine.  Wandering the highways, using my unique skills to do good deeds for others.

I don't know where the guy was from.  It was one of those proud countries.  It looked as if he would be insulted if I didn't take his cash.  So I pocketed it.  It paid for my sandwich.  I would have paid twice as much to see him get that great big Cadillac back up on his truck.

I loitered at the Subway a good long time, waiting for the rain to stop.  It didn't but I moved on.  I wasn't sure of a spot for my tent.  But I found one, a beautiful place.  It's wide open back here.  A bit gritty but I can't complain.  I'm invisible from the road.  And I may have an orange for breakfast.  There are a few on my tree.  They look pretty good but we'll see, we'll see.  Tomorrow is another day.

I'VE BEEN reading my Christian literature.  They keep me provided with tracts.  It seems the Pope is the Antichrist.  I don't even have one job.

A LONGISH DAY tomorrow will take me to Lake Wales, where I may or may not turn left.  If I do I'll be two or three days from the sea.  The End, as they say, is nigh.

Published with Blogger-droid v2.0.3