Oct.31 Day one

I only have a few minutes for a lot of catch-up, but I’ll do my best. On Tuesday night the 30^th of October I got a ride with my brother from Brewer to Ellsworth where I spent the night at my grandmother’s house and on Wednesday morning I rode with my great uncle and aunt Bob & Rachel Chamberland to the border town of Lubec, Maine. I was on foot by noon and walked five miles out to the West Quoddy Head lighthouse. It was dark by the time I got to the border crossing. The first questions they asked me were about my employment and housing, of which I have neither, but they still completely unpacked my entire cart and searched everything before telling me that my lack of job and home disqualified me from entry. After twenty minutes of repacking my cart, I crossed back over the bridge to the Land of the Free. The American Crossing guard said I could probably camp for the night on a small park just down the road. It was drizzling and misty by the time I found a seaside boardwalk along Mowry beach with a suitable spot for camp. It had been quite a while since I’d eaten, so I ate several fistfuls of trail mix and a few granola bars while some Ramen boiled. After a little reading I fell asleep to the sound of the ocean surf and two distant foghorns calling back and forth to each other. And the morning and the evening were the first day.

West Quoddy Head lighthouse

Am I really doing this?

     Am I really doing this?? Details are coming together quickly now and it's starting to feel surreal. It only took me about fifteen minutes to set up my cart when it arrived yesterday and within a few more minutes I had it straining at the seams with supplies. There's an electric excitement that comes with things like this. Looking at my cart all packed up and ready to go, I ask myself again, "Am I really doing this?" Can I really live out of this little metal-frame stroller? ...for years at a time? I've downsized before, even living in my car for nearly a year, but this is pushing it! Literally, this time. I keep remembering things I need and I keep stuffing them into the cart until I feel ready to go. It's just an overnight trial, but I'm mentally preparing myself for the real thing. I plug in my headphones and start playing my latest favorite Bible teacher as I roll into the unknown.
     The cart rolls nicely, steers a little rough and resists the hills, but nothing too bad. It's already dark and heavily overcast. The city lights and paved sidewalk of Brewer eventually turn into crumbling shoulders and dark country roads of Orrington. I switch on my flashlight whenever vehicles approach. Getting run-over isn't in my to-do list for tonight.
     I'm already dragging by 10:30 when I reach a good place to camp for the night. Just as I start unpacking my tent the rain begins without warning and quickly turns into a downpour. It would have been wise to practice setting up my new tent earlier, but I didn't know I'd be figuring it out in driving rain! By the time I get the fly tied down the tent floor already has puddles and rivulets of rainwater for me to sleep on. I am very much looking forward to cooking up a steaming pot of canned soup and going to sleep, so I throw my gear into the tent and zip myself inside. Everything is cold and clammy, so I set about to heat up my soup. Drat! I forgot the camping stove! I guess it's cold soup out of the can for tonight. The sleeping bag is sticky inside from the rain water, and the electric excitement that I started out with is slightly dampened as well, but this is what I signed up for. It's part of the story that is only just beginning.
     It rained steadily all night, and when morning came I had to stand in the rain and wring water out of my things so that they would fit back into my cart. If the weather had been nice I might have continued on, but it's only my first trial-run and I think I've built enough character for now. In soggy boots and dripping clothes, I trudge silently back to my dry tool shed with a newly-answered question settled in my mind, "Yes, I am doing this! If it pours every step of the way to Argentina, I am doing this!"

It's Time

     It's time. Time for something new. It's time for me to arrive somewhere I've never been before, which means I need to leave behind what I've invested here. It seemed like an obvious choice to me; intuitive and self-evident. The alternative was the American dream. I could go into debt for a home and pay for it by committing the rest of my life to a company. But why? I can't think of an adequate purpose to justify that.
     I've never needed lots of things. My family moved to Africa when I was six and we lived in a village of mud huts thousands of miles from metal machines and electronic entertainment. I learned to find my own food in the jungle and this included everything from wild fruits to rodents, snakes, and insects. Don't be surprised; this is normal. Most of the world has lived this way. Only a pampered few have ever removed food from a package or cooked it with electricity. I returned to the strange country of America when I was eleven, but it never felt right. I have seen poor people living naked, but now my peers would evaluate my worth, taste, and morality by the style of my clothes. I have seen people scooping water out of a pothole in the road and drinking it from a rusty tuna can, but now I learned the "five second rule." I've never been able to get used to this place they call the "Land of the Free." I don't think I ever will.
     I've been homeless for all of my adult life. Four-hundred dollars for a mere month of shelter just seemed preposterous. So, I've lived in my car, I've done some couch-surfing, I've occupied an airplane hanger, and I've done some house-sitting. I'm sleeping in a 12x23-foot tool shed right now and it's perfect for me. But it's boarded up 2x4 walls and the Maine winter is coming fast. Already, I'm bundling up heavily to make it through the nights. So what now? Should I give in and live like a civilized American? Should I sign a mortgage or rental agreement and indenture myself to a corporation? I know that's the right thing for some people, but is that what I'm here for? Like I said, it seemed like an obvious choice to me; intuitive and self-evident.
     But there's something else I should explain. I do have a purpose. In fact the reason I'm unimpressed by the American dream is that I have a purpose that makes luxury and comfort seem stifling and useless. I've been studying the Bible a lot lately and trying to understand what God is saying. It's not hard to know what people are saying about it, but they all say different things, and they all get it wrong a lot. I figure, a God who can design everything from atoms to galaxies, must have something to teach me. I'm frustrated though, because many people claim to follow the same Bible, but they come up with all sorts of opposite interpretations. Why can't we pin down what the Bible actually teaches and stop bickering over it? Is the Bible really so complicated that we can't know what God is saying? I'm starting to realize that all the arguments about the Bible come from people who have a personal agenda or an axe to grind. Rather than accept God's Word as it is, they want to use it as support for their own preferences. For thousands of years this has been causing useless and embarrassing arguments about the Bible. I've been raised in church, but I've realized that some of the things I learned were completely against what the Bible actually teaches. This seems inexcusable to me. It has been two-thousand years since the Bible was completed, yet those who claim to follow it are fractured into hundreds of different camps. Isn't it high time we ironed out what the Bible actually says and dismiss the people who abuse it for their own agendas? Why don't we have a major, concerted effort to settle and shelve the divisive issues? The ultimate question for me is, what can I do to clear up a little of the confusion, expose the false-teachings, and unify the true people of God? This question consumes my thoughts and drives my actions.
     This is why I can't sign my life over to chasing the American dream. I wouldn't have this driving obsession in my heart if I wasn't supposed to do something about it. There is so much to study and so little time. If I pour my life into a career and the material possessions of the American dream, I'll be into my seventies before I have free time again. But how can I follow this passion to understand the Bible with all the pressures of life? The temperatures here will be deadly soon, and my garden isn't producing anymore. Traveling south would take care of the cold problem, but I can't afford gas, so I'm better off getting rid of the car and going on foot.
     That is my conclusion. In order to focus on studying the Bible like I really want to, I need to start a nomadic life. I can work as I go since food will be my only necessary expense, and the rest of my time can be spent studying the Bible. I'll live as Jesus and His disciples lived. traveling from town to town telling people about the gospel message and urging Christians to settle their arguments biblically. I'll get a small cart for my earthly belongings. These will amount to a few clothes, camping gear, enough food and water to get me from town to town, and some Bible-study books and resources.
     I'm planning to set out by mid-November, so I'll have to hurry for warmer weather at first, but after that... it's hard to say. I'll have to stop walking south when I reach the tip of Florida, unless I learn to walk on water by then. I could continue west along the coast from there and hang a left into South America. But even if I can find a safe way through to the lower tip of South America, that eventually turns into ocean too. Maybe by then I'll have learned what I need to know and this chapter of my life will be complete, or maybe I'll just be scratching the surface.
     I'm not sure when or where I'll be when I arrive at my destination, but I'll never arrive there if I don't leave here. It's not easy to leave here. I do have a few things that I'm a little attached to. There is security in this familiar town. And hardest of all is leaving the people I've grown to love more than words can express. Is it really a good time to let go of all this? Yes, it's time.