Oh how the miles slide by. A hundred miles down, 425 to go. we have finally moved out of the urban mainscape of the bay and are now on the far side of Santa Cruz heading for Monterey. Every day it's the same thing...almost. We get up at the buttcrack of dawn, try and wolf down some dinner, get ready and try to be at the starting point at 9 sharp.
Then we walk. Sometimes 12 miles, sometimes 15. Then, after we finish walking for the day, we do chores, cook food, go shopping, do laundry, call loved ones, take showers, vegetate, go to Kinko's. Often we do all these things at the same time. and more often then not we don't hit the sack until it's just shy of Midnight. Only to get up at the next buttcrack of dawn to do it all again.
The things we see and do blend into a dizzying panorama of memories, and impressions. Like the bus, a blue monolithic hunk of steel on the way to Land of the Medicine Buddha outside Santa Cruz. Riddled with what look like bulletholes, and with the entire top half of an VW bus melded onto the top of it, this magnificent hunk of weirdness has welcomed us home for the past few days.
'Course, whenever you get a group of people together, weird stuff can happen. unexplainable stuff. wacky stuff.
Sleep is a precious commodity.
One of the neatest things that happens to us is when various deliverymen stop and just like give us stuff. The Odwalla man let us raid his truck, giving us gallons of orange and carrot juice. The ice man stopped and filled up our cooler. We're still waiting for the Mercedes man to stop.
But the neatest thing, is the new friends we are making along the way.
