In addition to having no where to go with winter rapidly approaching, I was also dealing with a heartbreak. I had recently came out with my feelings to the girl I was in love with (we'll call her N) at a festival we'd both attended, and, not having the feelings reciprocated, walked away from one of the most important friends in my life. That kinda started a habit of running away that I'm still fighting. I remember feeling so lost, like there was nothing left for me where I once called home.
I caught a ride to Athens, Ohio, where I stayed a couple nights with a friend while trying to figure out what I was going to do now. I contacted a friend from West Virginia to see if I could stay there on my way to Colorado, my next intended destination.
Then, I showed back up at N's house. Because I didn't know what else to do. I loved her and wanted to see her before I left, though I knew I had already said goodbye and would only be saying goodbye again. I hadn't really been prepared for the trip at all. N set me up with some extra supplies, like a good sleeping bag, warmer clothes, and a camp cooking set. She also gave me a wire-wrapped necklace that would become my most treasured item for the duration of the time it existed.
My next jump was to Pomeroy, Ohio. I stayed with some of N's family there for a night on the Ohio-West Virginia border, before they drove me to Hurricane, West Virginia to stay with my friend there. I hung out around the Hurricane/Huntington area for a week or so with my friend. He made me a walking staff that I still use today for my journey, but it took him time to complete it - hence my stay when winter was creeping in. The day he had to leave for CoSM in New York to spin fire for Alex Grey's birthday, I hit the interstate in Huntington to head west.
I stood on the on-ramp for hours flying a sign and thumb to no avail. The longer I waited, the more doubts my inexperienced mind had about what I was about to do. Eventually, I started walking back towards Ohio.
The next several hours were spent on foot, painfully as my pack that I was not used to carrying - and that was not meant for this type of travel - also had broken straps that I had "fixed" enough to wear, but with it tight against me and cutting into my shoulders.
Finally, a trucker on his way back to Ohio pulled over and picked me up. He was friendly enough, buying me some dinner at a McDonald's and giving me another $20 when he dropped me off on the side of the highway that night in Ohio before he went back to his home.
I continued walking until almost midnight in the cold as I looked for a place to sleep for the night, knowing the further I walked that night, the less I'd have to the next morning. I finally decided that I would pitch my tent behind a small hill by the highway. The area was clearly marked as a construction zone, but there were no machines around so I though I was safe to camp. That night, I slept in two pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, two shirts, a jacket, a coat, and my sleeping bag. I was still REALLY cold. I also noticed at this point that I didn't have a rain fly for my tent. Good thing I was on my way back home and not still trying to make Colorado. There was no way I was ready yet.
I set my phone's alarm for 6 am so I could get up early enough to tear down before anyone knew I was there. Well, 6 came around and it was still dark, still incredibly cold, and I was still exhausted from the previous day and night, not having much sleep from the weather. I decided I'd stay in my tent until the sun was up more.
As I lay in my tent, I listened to the sound of machinery beeping. I could tell it was construction equipment I was hearing, but it was off in the distance. However, the more I listened, the more apparent it became that the sound was getting closer. I poked my head out of my tent and saw the long arm of an excavator as the machine was climbing some hills to get to where I was camping. I acted as quick as I could, throwing everything out of my tent and tearing down. With no time to pack up, I grabbed everything and ran for the tree line I was camped against. Unfortunately, the way I was carrying my things made me too bulky to get past the branches.
The excavator made its way over the hill, with another piece of machinery on the way behind it. I gave up, dropped my things, and waved to the guy in the excavator. Luckily, he was cool with me having been there. He did need me to move out of the way, though, as I was camped right beside the trees he was about to knock down.
So I was back to walking. I felt weaker than the day before, more worn, but I wanted to be home by that night if I could. After a few hours on foot, someone stopped and gave me a ride to the Marathon in Albany, where I got some breakfast and water before catching a ride with another trucker into Athens. I met up with a friend who gave me a place to be while I contacted a ride back to Nelsonville. This is when I did my first dab.
I caught my ride back home. After me not being there for a couple weeks, I was allowed to go back to living at my mom's because they decided they did care about me being on the streets.
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