When your psyche isn't being clouded with deadlines, deliverables, doldrums, and general drudgery, life becomes simple. And a simple life lends itself to simple pleasures: double-ply toilet paper, chopsticks, smiles from strangers, cheese, consecutive green lights, cream soda, and my personal favorite: foaming hand soap dispensers. On any given day, at any given moment, any one of those can turn an otherwise eventless day into hours of bliss.
It's a weird feeling, even now, living an anonymous lifestyle. Everywhere you go you can be someone new, and no one's the wiser. You can choose to go through your day pretending you don't even exist, or go out and change someone's life. You can find new and exciting ways to grow and challenge yourself, or you can just lay in bed all day. Regardless, no one knows, and most of all, no one cares. This is probably the hardest part, believe it or not; most people have a purpose and expectations forced on them, usually through their job, sometimes through their parents or religion, so they never have to think about what they're going to do -- most people have more to do than they have time. But me? My life? All I got is time and nothing to do; I don't have to meet anyone's expectations, or really fulfill any sort of purpose. I'm free to create my own and change it daily if I choose. This is both the blessing and the curse: the scapegoats are gone.
If you know me, you're probably aware that I'm not the most extroverted individual; I'm not unusually introverted by any means, but I'm not the strike-up-conversations-with-random-strangers type. But since I've been on this trip I seem to attract random conversation, and regardless of how they start, they always end up talking about life, freedom, materialism, and breaking free of capitalistic America. No surprise, right? But these people gush; they reveal some really deep, intimate desires with me, a complete stranger! So I just take the opportunity to give them a little nudge in the right direction, a morsel of encouragement to keep that fire alive in hopes that some day they'll join in on giving the bird to corporate America.
It's crazy how many people are going through their lives dissatisfied, thinking that someday things will just magically change and they'll be happy, or finally have what they've always dreamed of. They're following what they've been told to do: get a degree, work hard. So that's what they do. But wait, where's the rainbow? the happiness? When does that come about? You mean it's not intrinsic? Another unhappy customer -- thanks America. The great part is, you can have what you always dreamed of, you just have to want it bad enough to go get it. But everyone I talk to is comfortable; they're making money and have a house full of stuff. Yup, good for you. Way to fill your life with things that don't matter. The initial change is hard and scary, but all of that quickly washes away and reveals something better than you could have ever imagined. So I like to encourage these people to go get it. And I hope they do.
I seem to attract a lot of looks as well -- the jury is still out on whether it's my stench (10 days sans shower and counting) or some careless hippie aura.
Probably the biggest hurdle I've had to conquer in any of my adventures, this one not excluded, is loneliness. With such a confined, isolated, and mobile living environment, you really have to put yourself out there in order to interact with other people. As previously stated, it just sort of happens if I leave the bus, but still the majority of the time I'm alone. Unlike my other travels, though, on this one I've found a way to manage it quite well, though I'm pretty sure I'm well on my way to the loony bin.
-----
It was a Wednesday -- hump day. The sun had risen once again and was eagerly warming the inside of the bus. As I rolled around underneath the comforter, shaking off the night's sleep, I began to break a sweat. This is my alarm clock.
A quick trip into the casino to hit the head and brush the teeth and I was on the road. Today I decided I would go hiking, despite my hatred of scaling tall stuff on anything less than vertical terrain. A few things stuffed into the day pack and I was ready to go: pretzels, beef jerky, PB&J, colored pencils, sketchbook, Chogyam Trungpa (one of his books, not the author himself), and a quart of water.
The first mile was pretty tame; a small stream flowed out of the mouth of the canyon on mostly level terrain, meandering through the soft sandstone and around the trees and shrubbery it was sustaining. Before long this fantastical hike turned into a mess of giant red boulders whose general inclination was upwards. Awesome. My favorite part.
Half an hour later I had managed to scale the 1,000 feet of vertical gain and was now resting breathlessly on top of my destination. It's undoubtedly a lot of work, but every time I force myself to do it I wonder why I'm not doing it every day -- the view is astounding! With only a few hours of sunlight left in the day (yeah, about that alarm clock) I quickly removed my shoes and shirt and found some rock that fit my butt. Sitting indian-style, I admired the view and fell into a sort of meditative trance.
A while later I snapped out of it and felt the urge to attempt a sketch of the surrounding view; so many colors and curves that it'd be foolish to not try and capture it with the colored pencils I'd brought along. Just as I was beginning to set my first few lines down on paper I was greeted by my first friend of the day: a ladybug. She came out of nowhere and landed directly on top of my index finger. I'm pretty sure she wanted to chill with me, so after a short conversation I set her down on my hoodie next to the pencils so she could take it all in.
A short while later, having been sitting still sketching away for quite some time, I noticed some movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced to the left and was greeted by a tiny lizard. I called out to him; I said, "Hey, what's up little lizard?!" But I don't think he was feeling very social, as he quickly scurried away. Back to the drawing board.
About an hour later, as I was finishing up -- it gets cold up there when the sun gets close to the horizon -- I was greeted by yet another pal. This time it was a mouse. He came scurrying over to me with a purpose; I'm pretty sure it was the food, not my company he was after. He ran right behind me, completely unafraid, and put his front feet up on the jerky bag and looked over at me. "What's up little mouse?! You hungry?" I didn't want to spoil him, so I reached into the bag of pretzels, pulled a few out, and set them on the ground. He quickly snatched one up and ran back home. "Later little buddy!"
The small pile of pretzels remained, and I was anxiously awaiting his return. Alas, he was gone. I'm pretty sure his family was having some sort of party over the pretzel score. I set down a tiny piece of jerky next to the pretzels, packed up my belongings, walked over to a flat spot and laid down to watch the sun's final plummet beyond the jagged horizon. Before starting my descent, I walked back over to where the food pile was, and it was indeed gone. So long my little friend. 'Til next time.
-----
See? I'm losing it -- talking to all variety of animals on top of mountains. I'm pretty sure I've talked out loud to myself more in the past week than I have in my entire life combined. It felt weird at first, but now it's starting to feel kind of natural. I'm not sure this is a good thing.
I do apologize for the outlandish delay between posts, but snow-birding in Arizona is not necessarily the most eventful thing to write about. Not to say that I didn't have any adventures down there -- oh I most certainly did -- but I was lacking the inspiration to write about it. You will find some shards of evidence in the photo gallery, however. But now that I'm back on the road I plan on seeking out that inspiration that ultimately sews its way into words. I'll be here in Vegas for the next two weeks, then it's a road trip to the west coast (finally!), through Death Valley for the annual spring bloom, down the Sierras for some snow-capped love, and on over to San Diego to win a tan-off and try my hand at surfing.
Stay tuned, my friends, stay tuned.
