When
the McDonalds closed at midnight I had changed into a dry pair of jeans and was
feeling a little rested after being of my feet for several hours. Some sleep
wouldn’t hurt, but I don’t plan on doing that in this area, so I head off into
the dark. I feel sore and creaky, but the night air is much cooler. The traffic
is also much lighter and there’s fewer people on the sidewalk, so aside from
being tired from a long day of walking, the conditions are ideal for walking.
By
4:00am I’m dealing with chaffing and blistering on my feet and under the pack
straps. Re-adjusting only works for so long as the pain increases. I’m
exhausted too and I feel like I could fall asleep standing up. I walk several
more miles hoping for some secluded corner where I might be able to tuck myself
away for a couple hours of sleep without being noticed, but this area is
densely developed. Finally I see a patch of large bushes up against a
chain-link fence. There’s a natural hollow behind the bushes, so I pull my cart
in far enough so that it can’t be seen from outside. This is a perfect little
place to hide away for a couple hours, but suddenly I see movement and a man at
the far end rolls over and looks at me for a second before curling back up.
Drat! The spot is already taken and I’m not comfortable falling asleep next to
someone I don’t know. I pull the cart back out to the roadway and keep going.
After another ten minutes of walking I see another small patch of bushes a few
feet of the road. I duck my head in and look around to see if anyone is home.
It’s empty except there’s beer cans strewn everywhere and it smells like urine.
The idea of sleeping here is repulsive, but I’m too spent to care as much as I
normally would. There isn’t enough space to pull my cart completely out of
sight, but I pull it in as far as I can and sit down with my back up against
it. Without even taking the backpack off, I slump there in the straps. It’s
nowhere close to comfortable, but I can hardly move. I sit there for about a
half-hour resting, but even as tired as I am the road noise from the four-lane
road 20 feet from my head is disturbing and it’s not comfortable enough for me
to sleep propped up like that with no place to rest my head but I can’t bring
myself to lay down on the filthy ground where homeless drunks have been
throwing up and urinating. I’ve only got about two hours left till daylight, so
I’m running out of time to get a little sleep before the next day starts. I
suddenly remember that I have my sleeping mat. I don’t need it for cushioning,
but it will keep me off the dirt. I pull it out of the pack and roll it out.
It’s
nearly 9:00 when I’m aware of the sunlight and people walking by. I can’t say I
slept very well, but it was something and I definitely feel better than I did
when I laid down. After stowing the mat, I strap on my pack and push the cart
back onto the sidewalk. Hopefully by tonight I’ll finally be out of the city. I’m
charting a course for Sunsport Gardens, a campground inland of Palm Beach.
Their tenting rates are reasonable and the area looks like a strong potential
for jobs. There’s still two days of walking though.
I head
off and the day passes one mile at a time. My cart tires have slowly been
getting spongy, but the gas station pumps all want to charge a dollar. As a
matter of principle I refuse to pay a dollar for air, but as I pass a little
auto-repair shop I notice they’ve got air hoses, so I walk up to a mechanic.
“Hey,
my tires are getting low on air, could I fill up here?”
“Sure!
We can help you out! Pull that right over here.” The clean one directs one of
the grease monkeys to help me fill up and within seconds I’m at full pressure
again. I thank them and continue on. I should have thought of that weeks ago!
At least now I know how to get free air.
By mid-afternoon
the landscape has changed from run-down city to wilderness and a lot of
farmland. The road is as busy and wide as a major freeway, but about a hundred
feet from the road is an old paved sidewalk that stretches parallel to the road
in a perfectly straight line as far as the eye can see. I’ve never seen a rural
road like this with a sidewalk before, but I’m not complaining. Periodically
there is a paved turn off from the main road complete with stop signs and curbs,
but it ends immediately and goes nowhere. It looks like this area was prepared
for development but then never developed. It goes on like this for miles and
miles without any distinguishing features. With the stop signs and curbs and
sidewalk the complete absence of people makes it feel like a ghost town. About
an hour after sunset it becomes pitch black so that I can’t even see well
enough to keep on the sidewalk, so I pull out my headlamp. I’m really enjoying
these walking conditions. I’m safely away from moving traffic, I’m on a nice
even sidewalk, and I haven’t seen a building or another person in nearly five
hours.
It’s
nearly tomorrow when I see lights up ahead for a couple commercial buildings. I’m
getting tired but I don’t want to get back into anyplace populated, so I decide
to stop for the night. There’s no trees to hang my hammock on, but there’s a
hundred feet of roughly mowed grass between the sidewalk and the road so it’s
perfect for tenting. I haven’t used my tent since the first few days of the
walkabout in Maine, so I have to pull it out from the very bottom of my cart. After
a few minutes of assembly I zip myself inside and stretch out in the sleeping
bag. The grass beneath me is soft and comfortable, the sleeping bag is warm
despite the cool night air, and the tent keeps the bugs out. It’s going to be
nice to get a good, peaceful night’s sleep for the first time in quite a while.
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