Showing posts with label long beach california. Show all posts
Showing posts with label long beach california. 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 65 - 11/26/16 Leo Carillo SP to Long Beach, CA



I’d never met Catherine before.  I didn’t even know what she looked like, I had only ever seen her paintings through the screen of my phone.  On my way to her place I wondered how I even started following her on Instagram.  The morning at Leo Carillo State Park was just beautiful.  The Hiker.Biker campsite was tucked in a grove under massive, thick, meandering branches reaching in all directions, partly bleached by the sun, or maybe that’s the way they are.  


I knew rain was in the forecast, sometime in the early afternoon, so I was up with the sun.  I ate my oats and drank my coffee quickly in the cold and was on the road by 8:00.  Getting out of the grove and into the sun was thrilling, I was motivated to beat the rain but, I couldn’t escape it.  The first half of the ride was sunny and dry as I rolled over the seaside hills through Malibu and into Santa Monica.  The bike path winds you through the hot, tan sands, past the lifeguard huts in their soft sea foam shades of blue and all the vacant volley ball nets, at is Fall after all.  



I had to stop at REI in Santa Monica but it was nice to stop and see the pier and some of the trippy sidewalks with curved bricks that wiggled in your eyes as you roll over them.  But just outside of Santa Monica is where the rain found me.  Right on the beach.  I don’t know if anyone believed the forecast or paid attention to it because all the other cyclists and beachgoers seemed rather surprised by the sudden shower.  


The next 30 miles were a wet blur, a mad dash to get to Catherine’s in Long Beach.  It’s not so fun to stop riding in the rain when you’re already soaked through, I get real cold real quick.  It’s best to keep moving, and so I did.  As it sometimes happens, the sun came out from behind the veil of clouds just as I got to Catherine’s, what else can you do but laugh?  



Her apartment was set up like any good artist’s living arrangement: lots of art on the walls, lots of art on the floor leaning against the walls, paintings I had only seen from my phone screen, massive in person, and lots of art supplies shoved in corners that would be something at some point.  I went and showered and she went to work making a vegetable stew.  We shot the shit for a long time with some Christmas music in the background.  


It was nice to hear someone talk about art and making art.  That’s her full-time gig and it makes sense because she’s so damn talented.  There’s a box of Dunkin Donuts on her table.  I laughed when I saw them but, she assured me they’re just her models.  She knows what a good donut should taste like.