How to travel the country without money

It’s out there. The world is a big place and we never can get enough of it. For myself it has been a trying journey of living by the scrapings scraping and grit that I find along my path to something. Hitch hiking was comfortably reassuring, surprisingly. There is a massive support system for those who are on a vulnerable journey through the world. I am convinced that humans were made in a way that will allow the right people to pass through their social system easily and efficiently, and that the social system will provide for them exactly what they need. Except when it does not, which is a bummer.

Yesterday I bought a motorcycle. After the transaction I could feel a deep pit immerse within my stomach.  At the time I contributed the feeling to the massive risk I had just taken taken by investing into a new form of transportation; only later did I realize that it was my body telling me that I had made a huge social miscalculation. The next day at a shop I learned that the bike was without a title and was worth less than 100 dollars. Exhausted of funds I put the bike online in desperation. Within the hour a man called me who had the intention to take the engine out of my bike in order to complete a project he was working on. When I told him of how I wanted to take the bike cross country and see the world he promised to give me the perfect bike for the job at discount price. He felt it necessary to help someone out with their journey. The only thing that I needed to do for him was to take the bike into the DMV and get it inspected as to confirm that it was not stolen.

Little sleep is needed for great tasks. The body knows what must be done and will prepare adequately as it understands the gravity of the situation. Waking in the morning I ventured to the location of my motorcycle. Tires flat, without a break light or mirrors I started it up and headed for the canal. In my mind I would be able to ride the bike down the dirt roads that run next to the rivers that bring water to the desert city of Phoenix. For more than half my trip this turned out to be true and I was able to enjoy the combination of skin burning sun and soft cooling breeze before I was halted by a locked fence. More than once I crossed busy intersections, watched by anyone with an ounce of awareness to them. When I was less than I mile from my destination I saw my first cop. I darted left into a gas station parking lot to park my bike. Buying overpriced sunscreen I watch the police officer circle the gas station and go out of sight. My adrenaline was pumping by that point and I decided to wait until there would be some distance between me and the cops, but they continued to roll past the station. Through intelligent rationalization or fear driven paranoia I decided to park the bike. It currently sits and now I wait for Friday when we will be able to move it together.

Camouflaged greatness or maybe the swindler had me in mind the entire time. Things sometimes work themselves out.

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