Monday, August 27, 2012
Bridges and Fog
I handed the World over without reservation to Thomas and Skye knowing they could finish the journey to the Golden Gate Bridge that I could not complete by foot. I spent the day shadowing them from a distance. As darkness fell I knew they were going to find a place to camp close to town. There was a man and woman splitting wood close to the highway. I asked if they had seen a young couple with reflective jackets go by. They had been by a few minutes prior. The woman asked if I was with them, I hesitantly told them I was not, and then confirmed I was, wanting to let Skye and Thomas to their own devices. As I walked away I overheard the woman berating the man for thinking "those kids" were homeless, that they are what they had said they were. Further into town there was a baseball field filled with people. There I thought the young couple could find some help. When I later talked to the new guardians of the World they told me they had asked many for a place to pitch there tent for the night but encountered distrust from the townsfolk, only finding a nice man at the far end of town. Hiking down the road is very different from the sideshow of the World tied to a guy and a dog lumbering along; less smiles. I stopped next to the only gas station in the next town that night so I could be there when they opened, there are few towns along the forgotten coast and fewer places to get fuel. After a night of restless dreams I awoke knowing I had to stop holding on, let Skye and Thomas take the reins. They had made it from Seattle without a chaperon and my lingering around would deplete what little resources I had for my trip home. reluctantly like a bird pushing a chick from the nest I began the journey home through the foggy snakelike Shoreline Highway down the coast to The Golden Gate (where Skye and Thomas called on the cell phone just as I passed over), the Bay Bridge (I last crossed the Bay Bridge 8 days before the earthquake that closed it), toward home.