I know a place up in the air

Some more wafflings, while I have the time.



My first day of riding I was denied water. I pulled into a real estate agent's office. There was a man on a cellphone in the gravel parking lot. It was 95 degrees, I was sweating, I had just run out of water.

"um, excuse me sir? Do you work here?"

I remember him scoffing, but I couldnt exactly determine if it was because of something frustrating that was going on, his indignance about my presence, or because the idea that I implied that he 'worked' at that office when he very well may have 'owned' it was ridiculous.

Scoff "yes, I work here"

"Okay, um. Do you think I could please have some water from your tap?" holding out waterbottles, beseeching eyes.

"I cant let you in the building"

"well, that's okay, I dont need to go in. could you get some for me? I am really thirsty"

"No, I cant go inside. I work here, but I cant go inside" The thinnest of lies

"well, do you have a spigot outside? a hose?"

"no. look, go next door and ask them"

all the while, a magnificent fountain is splashing delicious looking water all over, making me crazy with thirst and exposing his 'no spigot' bullshit. but what can you do? I dusted him and his sad life and got water and a pep talk from some ladies at a salon.

I'm always jazzed when people offer me ice cubes, even though I dont take them, because I appreciate the consideration. It's not too great to drink super cold stuff on a super hot day, it can shock a system already under duress, plus my water bottles are 100 degrees after about two seconds anyway, but I like the attention.



I have more tattoos than you might remember. I did end up tattooing "C O W A B U N G A !" on my toe knuckles. Dana and I got matching dog jaw tattoos, and if you dont know about dog jaw, you should ask us. Nick gave me an arrow on the side of my calf and I got a CYDWY to match my YHBFT ankle mottos. It's not like I intend to turn my body into a doodlepad, but there is really much to be said for stick n pokes on the road, and I am travelling with some needles and ink, just in case.





I'm riding my blue medici. With great difficulty I installed a velo orange front rack on my super tight carbon fork. I had to saw the bolt twice, then the nut, then file it down and bang the arm with a hammer just to get milimeters of clearance with my 700x23 tire. I actually had to saw a nub off the rack, too, and anything that is not a box rubs against my tire, so I had to wrap a system of tube scraps on it to keep my sleeping bag away from my tire. It is a pretty poorly designed rack, in my opinion, but it portages my stuff, being two small panniers and a sleeping bag. (the first thing that rack actually carried was a mostly full space bag of franzia) the front panniers have patches sewn to them. on the drive side, an 'alive with pleasure!' suv burning printed by our own mr Joey Alone, and the other a 'he-man, masters of the universe' print that Evan gave me. on my rear rack I carry a thermarest, single person tent, and my empty squid bag. I have two giant rear panniers. I'll write you up a packing list later.



I found 20 bucks in an ATM yesterday. When I looked in the tray, the woman who had left it was halfway out the door. I could have chased her down and returned it. I immediately felt guilt after deciding not to. I didnt immediately put it in my wallet, or walk away from the atm. I finished my transaction, expecting her to come back at any moment, more than ready to hand it over. but she didnt.

I'm not sure why I felt guilt, or why I didnt return it in the first place. If it had been MY 20 bucks, I wouldnt expect anyone to return it, but I would certainly appreciate it. What makes me feel like I had the right to even consider keeping something that clearly was not mine? I dont need 20 bucks bad enough to be a shitty person. I'm relying so heavilly on the kindness of strangers these days. intricate networks of people I have totally never met open their homes to me, share their food with me, keep me company, consider me in all small ways and I couldnt be a good enough stranger to return this abstracted reciept? fuck man. I wished I had returned it, even as I used it to buy beer and cigarettes to share with my hosts.

but, as Shon said, "You cant PROVE that that lady didnt leave that there for you. You know, people are really friendly, and they like sharing and stuff"





I guess I really try to project this superficial appearance of unfuckwithableness. I posture a lot, I like watching my muscles flex and scowling a little bit. When I'm at a rest stop I think of myself as having a blinking sign above me that says, "dont even fucking look at me." This must be some sort of defense mechanism, though it doesnt give me any false sense of invulnerability, it is comforting a little. I'm not afraid of traveling alone. The question most frequent asked of me is, "Where you headed?" and after that "By yourself?!"

I've never even thought of traveling with anyone else. It literally never occured to me. That most people cant imagine being alone in a situation I cant imagine having company, well, I think it's really telling of my character in a lot of ways. Their surprise at my natural inclination does make me feel a little lonely, though, I guess.

I cant believe I never noticed before, but Britney Spears' "Toxic" is totally a love song to McDonald's.

"Baby, can't you see? I'm calling a guy like you Should wear a warning

It's dangerous, I'm fallin' There's no escape I can't wait, I need a hit Baby, give me it You're dangerous, I'm lovin' it

Too high, can't come down Losing my head Spinning 'round and 'round Do you feel me now? With a taste of your lips I'm on a ride You're toxic, I'm slipping under With a taste of poison paradise I'm addicted to you Don't you know that you're toxic? And I love what you do Don't you know that you're toxic? It's getting late To give you up I took a sip from my devil cup Slowly, it's taking over me"

clearly references to britney's unhealthy relationship to food, McD's in particular. She knows that it's a terrible substance, yet she just cannot resist this toxic food. Even the company motto. she's lovin it. it all makes sense now.

stay tuff.

-cari