Pacific Sunset

I made it to the farthest most point west before heading up the coast to my target, British Columbia. 

Getting this far was and experiential journey. I made several stops along the way, the first being Memphis, TN. I pulled over at bar on hwy. 66 where 'Muddy Waters' was sitting in the corner playing the blues casually while customers sat at the bar drinking their beers and drowning their tears. I know, cliche but I was in this one. I had no idea who this legend was but I did know I loved his music. Still with mile to go and no place to stay, I drank my beer and headed west over the Mississippi River and turned toward Arkansas. 

I was looking for a Franciscan Hermitage that I heard about from someone somewhere and I found it, not knowing what it meant to be Franciscan and much less about what a hermitage was. I discovered that The Pope mandates that to receive communion you must be Catholic, at least in a church hosted by Franciscans. It was an awkward moment which led me to bed in my assigned hermatige, a simple room with a set of bunk beds, a fireplace and a wooden chair. The bathroom was a shared one with mirrored room on the other side which was vacant that night. I was the only misguided guest for the evening and still a bit embarrassed and confused on the taking of the bread and wine, I woke before daybreak and headed west again. Texas bound. 

Amarillo right off I-40 seemed inviting enough and it was getting late. Found a motel next to a country bar. I learned to two step and that was that. Hit the Waffle House for a late breakfast and headed to Arizona. Right outside of Winslow, I made camp off a desert road. It was warm until it wasnt. I was looking for my Columbia Berganthal jacket when I looked up and saw it coming. Snow. The temperature dropped suddenly, and I was hammered by little snowballs that bounced on the hood of the Jeep and sounded like bullets hitting the side of my tent. I crawled in my tent and put on my long johns and curled up in my mummy sleeping bag. It was 23 degrees and dropping. When I woke, there was about two inches of snow, and I was ready to go. Packing haphazardly, I was determined to stand on a corner in Winslow Arizona and after stripping off the long underwear in a gas station bathroom that's exactly what I did. It wasn't a flatbed truck but a pickup truck with a girl driving quickly by and not even giving me a glance. So much for living out a song.

The story continues into Vegas and on into LA. Your imagination will have to be enough for now but there is more. Much more.