Days 6 & 7

Day 6

              I laid in the motel bed a little too long. I'd hit the snooze button because the sun didn't beat down on me today to make me get up. I didn't have a tent to break down, or a load to pack to head out. My DragonWagon was still wheels-up in the living area of the room, and my belongings strewn about haphazardly. I felt a lingering twinge of depression that I wasn't outside. The room was stuffy without a working AC unit, but I didn't mind that, I just missed the breeze outdoors. It was time to get up, time to get moving. I stalled a little longer, then got up.

              The previous night, Papi and I had strategized which wheels were good, which needed what replacements, and which he should take with him so I didn't carry extra weight. I had ordered two new wheels and two replacement inner tubes, so we adjusted accordingly. We switched out the bad rim with a good one, and he took the two wheels that were basically destroyed. This left me with two good wheels, two deflated wheels, and the two new wheels that I'd ordered. That means I'd change the inner tubes on the two deflated ones, and end up with 6 total wheels, for the next emergency. All seemed well.

              I took the two deflated tires with me to get them fixed, and hoped the new ones had arrived on time. Joe, the mechanic, had told me they would arrive 8:30-9:00am, which worked out well since I needed to check out of the room by 11:00am to avoid any fees. When I got to the tire shop with my two deflated wheels, I was overjoyed to find out the wheels and inner tubes had indeed arrived. This was great news. My stomach plummeted, however, when I saw that the two new wheels were just the treads. No rims, no ball bearings, no inner tubes included. Damn. Somehow, ordering two wheels and two EXTRA inner tubes meant two tire treads and only two inner tubes. This complicated things. I left my two deflated tires with Joe to get the tubes replaced, and decided my best bet was to get the worse looking treads replaced as well. Since the two wheels the sheriff had given me were newer (or rather older but less used), I decided to keep their treads on, and replace the two originals. I ran back to the motel room and grabbed the older tire, and decided, while we're at it, might as well grab the other one to make sure it was inflated enough.

              I ran back to the tire shop with the last two wheels, then Joe and I had a little confusing back-and-forth about which tread went where, what tube was getting replaced, and what tire just needed some air. It was a confusing exchange for both of us, and my time was starting to tick away. He finally got to work on them all. He gathered some tools, and started to work on his shop floor, one wheel at a time. I watched him struggle trying to get the two sides of the rims to meet just right, so I offered him an extra pair of hands to keep them together while he bolted them. He said he had it. This frustrated me a little more than I'd care to admit, because it would've been much easier for two people to do it. He struggled at it for a while, and it was slow work. He may have been more used to working on car and truck tires. These were microscopic in comparison. He eventually got to the last tire and could not manage to get the pieces together. He tried again and again and again, and I could see his own frustration mounting as much as my own. That's when other customers arrived, needing to rent a trailer, a big ticket item. He set his tools down and went to assist them. He was on my last wheel, and he left to help his customers who seemed to know him by name.

              I am not one for confrontations. I am not one to complain about petty things. I don't tend to get angry with unfair treatment. I was, however, disappointed and frustrated. This is something I could just do myself at this point. I had to fight the urge to get in there and finish the job and be on my way. The temptation was great. I had a small urge to say something along the lines of, "would you mind just doing the last tire real quick so I could go, please?" but I didn't. Something about being the outsider in a Southern town, amongst people who know each other, made me think that it would only hurt my situation. I was patient. I waited. Joe helped them get their trailer hooked up, got their necessary cables, and was ringing them up as another customer pulled in. This customer was looking to buy a tire for his pickup truck, another big ticket item. Joe finished with the first customers, then went over to the new one to see the specifications of his truck. It was now 10:05am, which meant I had less than an hour to get this wheel done, put them back on the wagon, pack up, and get keys turned in. My patience, at this point, was irrelevant. When Joe walked back from the truck to the shop, where I was standing, to see if he had the necessary parts, I managed to say, "hey, Joe, I gotta check out of the motel by 11, so..." He assured me it would be okay, then went to speak to his other customer. Another customer was just pulling in, and my nerves were tingling. He spoke briefly with them, then came back to my tire, finished it up, and rung me up. Relief. The bill, though, was not what I had expected. Since the new tires were only treads, they had required labor to apply, which was an extra charge. Also, he charged extra for not only assembling the tires, but disassembling as well. I had no time or patience to argue. I paid and was on my way, grumbling as I tried to carry the four tires and two extra, slightly worn treads.

              I reached the room around 10:40 and had no time to waste. I did my best to put the wheels back on the wagon, flipped it right side up, and started to restock it with all the stuff I'd set around the room. After much sweating and several spot checks, I was out of the room at 11:05. Luckily the lady at the front desk didn't seem to notice (or maybe didn't mind) my tardiness.

              Thus, I was on my way again.

              At this point, I was in St Cloud, an actual town, civilization. This was both exhilarating and nerve wracking. I had been out in the boonies for a few days, where everything was slow and expansive. Here, everything was compact and rushed. A lot more car traffic, and a lot more places of business (especially more places of business, since I'd just come from having none around). I had not walked far before I made it to Narcoosee road, where I needed to turn right to go North, to Orlando. The feeling was unparalleled. I was HERE. I thought it would be miles and miles more before reaching this point, but I had almost made it here yesterday. Had it not been for my complete wheel breakdown the day before I would have made it. This was an amazing feeling, and I no longer cared about all the crap I had just undergone. My pace slightly quickened, and I found myself humming triumphant songs aloud as I walked.

              This was amazing. I thought I had been set back so much with all the obstacles I had encountered, that I would be on this road for a long time to come. I turned to go North, and the sun was now at my back, no longer burning just my left side. I could almost feel the heat waves pushing me forward. Success. Triumph. North.

              I walked several miles, then stopped under the shade of a large tree in a grassy area, and drew. I didn't feel much like reading, so I just drew, and was really happy with what I was accomplishing. I walked a few more miles, and stopped for a quick meal out of my pack, then drew some more. Greatness. Awesomeness. Happiness.

              I kept walking into the afternoon and evening, and it was time to find a place to camp out. Suddenly, it became increasingly obvious that this was not going to be as simple as it had been out in the country. Out there I just had to find a place far enough off the road so that I wouldn't get run over in the dark. It was about finding a place out of sight so no one would get too curious and come looking. Here, however, it was more compact with many, many more businesses and residential areas. No woods, no hills to hide behind, no bridges to duck around. I came up to a neighborhood that was under construction, and was very tempted to sneak in there for the night, but past experiences in my life lead me away from that decision. Too many early workers, too much heavy machinery, too many cops patrolling, and too many other people who may be considering the same thing I was. I pressed on.

              I finally came upon a fancy looking gated community with a golf course. I thought how funny it would be to set up camp on the 18th hole. That's when I saw it. At the entrance to the community was a large sign advertising their new homes, golf course, and security. All around the sign were freshly shaped hedges, and a wooden fence that spanned along the sidewalk I was on. Behind the sign, however, there was no fence, no hedges, just grass. The opening led to a lake that separated the road from golf course. I quickly drug the DragonWagon around those bushes, and ducked behind them. This little nook was perfect. There were chest high hedges on three sides of me blocking me from the road and the entrance to the community, and on the other side was the large lake with the golf course across from it, and there were big trees perfectly in line to block the gate guard from view. I sat there for a while, apprehensive about pulling anything out or setting anything up, since I'd just pulled in from a busy intersection and was sure someone would report a suspicious looking character pulling a wagon behind some bushes. After an hour of paranoia, I decided I was okay. I continued to draw. After the second hour I pulled out just my sleeping bag, since it was starting to get chilly, and I was in plain sight of the golf course. Once the sun had finally set and the darkness took over, I decided it was okay to set up my tent, and I slept under the stars, surrounded by bushes, with a beautiful view of their lake and lit up fountain.

Day 7

              I kept waking up throughout the night, nervous I would be found out in my ritzy camp site. By the time 5:30am rolled around, I decided to pack up and head out, to avoid the sunrise exposing my location. The temperature was a lot colder a in the dark as I walked up the side walk, and the wind was picking up quite a bit. I kept moving at a brisk pace to keep the blood flowing and stay warm. I walked a few miles up the road, sharing the sidewalk with all manner of runners and power walkers, seeing groups of cyclists on the roads, until I came across my first McDonalds that offered free wifi. Finally, I could communicate to friends that I was alive and well. I pulled the DragonWagon off onto the grass by the sidewalk, and dug out my laptop, taking all the stuff that was in the way and dumping it around me. It must have been a confusing sight to see a guy who looked like a hobo with his stuff strewn about the grassy area, on his laptop. Several of the walkers and joggers who were going by gave me a range of confused looks, and one almost ran into the guy running next to him because he did a double take looking at me. Regardless, I sent messages to family, posted on Facebook, and attempted to upload the blog I'd written at the motel. The winds picked up, and the temperature noticeably dropped. Facebook worked fine, but I couldn't get any other websites to open. It was getting colder. I checked a map long enough to see I was roughly 15 miles from my friends' house I was heading to, which I estimated would take me until the following day to reach. The cold got sharper, so I gave up, packed it all up, and started moving to get the blood flowing again. Sitting still for those few minutes didn't do me any favors.

              The wind was getting unbearable, and the sun was just breaking through the sky, but not through the trees. It was still dark, and getting colder. I decided that walking was not going to warm me up enough to make up for wearing a t-shirt and shorts. I stopped to dig out warmer clothes. I didn't think I'd need them for a long time into the journey, so they were buried accordingly. I had to pull out a serious amount of obstacles to get to them. Being in such a populated area, with cyclists, runners, and the like, I couldn't go change anywhere, so I just slipped the pants over my shorts, and threw on a sweater. This was a bit of a hint at what it could feel like in a winter situation, which was a cause for worry and relief, simultaneously. I thought about how much colder it could get and how I wasn't sure how well I would deal with it, but, on the other hand, it was a welcome break from the dead heat.

              Crossing under the 417 before the sunrise was exhilarating. Finally a landmark I recognized! Roads I knew! While it gave me a rush to know I'd made it this far, it also took away from the experience of being out in the middle of nowhere, a place I didn't know. I started to recognize what was about to come up, and it took away the mystery of the adventure. It was a strange battle of feelings in my mind over whether this was good or bad, but I kept moving. I walked and stopped to draw, walked and stopped to eat then draw, walked and walked. I'd crossed under the 528, then crossed over the 408, and before I knew it, I'd reached East Colonial SR50. I turned onto 50, hit Dean rd, and turned North again. This was it. I was on the final stretch, and it was shorter than I imagined it.

              I reached my friends' neighborhood by 5:30pm and was astonished at my accomplishment. That meant I had walked about 15 miles over the span of 12 hours, totaling 75 miles in 7 days. That's insane. I would've never imagined I could do that. I would have never known. I might never have believed. Pulling my wagon along I saw their second floor windows open, letting in the cool breeze that seemed so welcome to them, and I yelled their names from outside. Their door burst open, and I finished my first trek by hugging my dear friends.