Showing posts with label huntington beach pier. Show all posts
Showing posts with label huntington beach pier. Show all posts

Friday, February 3, 2017

Day 76 - 12/7/16 - Dana Point to Los Feliz, CA



I don’t know if Los Feliz is the actual town or if it’s just some sub-category of Los Angeles; whatever, this is where I am.  I’m staying with more people I know through the internet.  Hallie and Jack, they don’t live together but, they’re both here right now, a couple artists that work at their craft a lot more consistently than me.  It’s nice to be around people that dedicate so much of their time to creating, a nice change of pace from the people that spend all their time riding bikes although, I have yet to get sick of those people yet.  I met another one today on the train from Long Beach to Los Feliz.  



James got hit by a car this morning somewhere in LA, nothing too serious, his ankle was sore, he said. A guy that saw it happen owns a bike shop and gave his bike a complete overhaul, took it apart, tuned it up, cleaned everything and gave it back to him as a new bike, pretty much.  We talked about our gear, our trips, (he’s been riding East to West from Florida) he told me about one of his bags getting robbed from him at gun point, al his money and credit cars.  I gave him some food and some money before we parted ways, I would’ve wanted someone to take pity on me too.  



I’ve had worse mornings but, it was a complete shock to be kicked out of McDonalds.  I’m 90% sure it was because I looked like a homeless guy who was loitering outside earlier but, at the same time, could we have really looked that much alike?  Or did she just assume I’d be hanging out all morning after ordering only a small orange juice?  Who knows, it shouldn’t bother me, McDonald’s is garbage anyways.  But, here I am after a fast and beautiful bike ride back North along the beach, listening to Vince Guaraldi in Hallie’s living room with her roommate, Alice, and Jack.  Plants are everywhere, Alice makes floral arrangements.  Plants make you feel not so alone.  I remember the one pot of English Ivy I had on my shelf under my lofted bed in my room in Peabody; that seems like a lifetime ago, 10,000 miles away.  



Hallie and I took Ozzy (dog) for a walk when I first showed up.  We talked of her’s and her mother’s book in-progress that deals with the reality of a parents death, how do you deal with that?  What are the objective and subjective steps to navigate through this inevitable part of life?  I think my mom needs to read it, if only it was ready.  She asked me all the questions everyone asks me about my trip (and she knew it, too but, I never mind talking about it!).  She also asked me other questions that no one else really asks like, what have you learned about yourself?  I explained my sincere trust in the universe but, failed to elaborate on much else.  “If you could ride your bike next to yourself you’d know everything,” my friend Matt said this to my friend Colin.  What a thought, what an image.  What is there to know?  Must I know what there is to know before I can know?  Maybe it’s one of those things you can’t really put into words, maybe not as gracefully until you’re older, maybe what you know about yourself can only be illustrated through examples, through stories where your character is tested.  



I was made at the woman in McDonalds this morning, mad that she couldn’t give me an answer for why she was kicking me out, who complained and what did they say.  Everyone has a right to refuse someone something.  Everyone has a right to stand up to their rights but, was I going to do that for orange juice that I didn’t even want?  I was just trying to be nice while I used the bathroom to change and fill up my water bottles.  She hurt my ego, judged me on my appearance and it hurt me, bothered me to know someone can look less presentable and be denied orange juice.  I might be misunderstood who I was, what I was doing.  I wanted to yell, my blood pressure went up but, life went on and I’m here amongst friends now, everything is perfect, I feel good and happy, I’m warm and fed.  Every thing has its resolve, life will go on.  And then one day it won’t so why even get upset?  Choose your battles, the orange juice at McDonalds is pretty shitty anyways.

Monday, January 23, 2017

Day 67 - 11/28/16 - Long Beach to Newport Beach, CA



I had to go to the post office before leaving Long Beach, I’ve been meaning to shed some weight.  I sent the last two rocks home to Ava, Oregon and California, as well as my Holey Toledough T-shirt.  I also sent home my hammock and big, heavy U-lock, probably 5 pounds of combined weight off my bike.  But, I also had to send home the print Catherine gave me.  A while ago she did a painting of a banana penetrating a glazed donut, two very important things in my life just getting it on.  


She made an edition of prints of the sexy food scene and she was kind enough to give me one.  If I could’ve framed and displayed it on my bike I would’ve but, I’ll see it again when I get home, I’m sure my family will get a kick out of it.  The post office was quite busy, this is a busy time of year for them, the holidays.  I like that though, I like seeing the post office utilized, I like seeing people send Christmas cheer.  This post office was a bit odd, the tellers were behind an inch of glass, bullet proof, I assume.  It kind of took away from the experience of interaction, I don’t know.  Oh well.  


Outside, a homeless woman pushing a cart asked about my bike, asked if I had a pump.  I did, she had a flat tire.  I pumped it back up for her, the air stayed and her day got a little better.  She muttered something about not having eaten in a couple days so I gave her an orange and a bag of crackers and some granola bars and she was off.  I was happy to do it.  I didn’t need all that food anyway, I have places to stay for the next few days or so.  


I left the city by late morning, rode on the paved path right along the beach, the somewhat standard scenario for everyday now.  I’ve seen quite a few piers by this point but, I was still excited to see Huntington Beach Pier in person.  I’ve seen so many photos of that place from Ed and Deanna Templeton.  I wish I could’ve stumbled upon them there but, they were in Japan.  


The pier was a lot quieter than I’d ever seen it in Ed’s photos but, it was a cold, gray, windy day in November.  I watched the sun set and admired the residual glow like an ember in the lower half of the sky before I continued the rest of the way to Quintin’s house, another dood I met through Warm Showers.  I had dinner with him and his two boys, Caden and Chase, 14 and 11 I believe.  A fire crackled in the fireplace.  


The four of us, plus Moby, the dog and Cat, the cat watched Superman after dinner.  I almost fell asleep on the couch, I took the opportunity to go to bed when the kids did.