Having obtained a near useless degree, I spent the summer saving up money, working as a carpenter’s assistant while living with my parents. I wanted to go to the west coast, it was warmer, which seemed nice, but mostly it seemed more relaxed, more open minded, friendlier. It was known to be a multigenerational mecca of countercultures, and like the beatniks, hippies, and punks before me I was going to go places, meet people, have adventures, make art, and find myself. That fall I caught a ride to Portland Oregon with an old classmate from high school and after a few recovery days, one of her roommates dropped me off at an on-ramp so I could hitchhike out to the coast.
I spent most of the next seven years living out of a backpack, occasionally with a room of my own but most often crashing wherever I could. Cheap campsites, beaches, shelters, city parks, closets, couches (perhaps yours at some point), yards, and floors. I stayed with old friends and friends of friends, but also with random strangers that I connected with in person or through the internet and who were willing to let me stay in their homes for free, something that seems inconceivable in today’s world.
To not overstay my welcome I was frequently on the move. Hitchhiking was my primary means of transport and it was surprisingly effective. Most people I met were kind and besides rides I was offered food, places to stay, and work. A few had agendas I wasn’t interested in but I was never threatened or attacked. Occasionally I was harassed by police, but I was careful to follow laws and so their shakedowns, although frustrating, always came to naught. Because hitchhiking out of cities was difficult, I would sometimes take local buses, find a rideshare, or just walk. In fact, walking became my dominant hobby and on days I wasn’t traveling or socializing with others, I spent much of my time either walking around or in parks or libraries. I also filled sketchbooks with drawings of cafes, people, and scenery, letters, poems, and journal entries, all of which I would ritualistically burn once the book was full.
I explored the west coast. My memories and experiences are too extensive to list here but I would be remiss not to include a few snapshots: My first time seeing the giant redwoods. Watching the sun set and the full moon rise over a Big Sur beach. Driving an RV with no breaks along the cliffs of the Pacific Coast Highway. Sneaking into a luxury oceanside resort to soak in their lithium spring water hot tubs. Rolling into Olympia late at night and immediately being greeted by someone with a bike trailer full of free pizzas. Sitting around a fire listening to a camp maintenance man wax poetic about his experiences working on Alaskan fishing boats (bonus points for his Spalding Gray references.) Getting a ride through wine country with a cork salesman who brought me to a number of fancy wineries. Working at various EDM festivals and then staying up all night to dance. Cooking pastries in cobb ovens at 2 AM in the middle of the Wyoming forest at the national rainbow gathering.
It was a quest of spiritual discovery and was accompanied by the highs and lows one expects to face on that path. The beautiful tranquility of a golden-warm afternoon contrasted with a rainy night, cold and alone in a tent; The kindness of those who fed, housed, and helped me contrasted with those who threw garbage or yelled at me from car windows. In my head I was propelled by and carrying with me the momentum of every alternative movement that dared imagine a better world. But in retrospect, I can see how, like many of my idols, I was also hurt and running from truths I wasn’t ready for. While this lifestyle was a personal choice for me, there were factors that pushed me towards it. Disillusionment combined with confusion about my identity lead to depression and feeling alienated from society. The road was on the outskirts of societal norms, a liminal space, always changing and evolving just as I was, full of infinite possibilities. Enlightening but exhausting. I met a lot of great people and got to make and see friends often, but it was also lonely and unstable. After a nice run of it, I needed a home of my own.