The Old Blog in the Desert

Tired, sore, hungry and stupid. These have been my four companions all this day as I struggle to recover from the night before and this morning.

Allow me to preface this with a few extra facts that didn’t seem pertinent yesterday, but seem to play a solid roll in my life this day: Jake, Karen along with Sam lived out of an old beat up Pontiac, that they had draped with plastic tarps for a makeshift shelter.

That’s the first thing. The second is that cup of Earl Grey that I was offered and accepted.

It may have been doped as I awoke with a banging headache, and much later than usual, and no memory of the family packing up and driving off. Worst of all, they took everything I didn’t have on me or in my sleeping bag with me.

My rucksack, food, extra clothing – gone. I am finally done with this adventure and have been heading east along the back roads towards Reno.

“What’s wrong with you?” one of my former escorts from the day before said, with a knowing smile beaming across his face.

“They robbed me,” I admitted, while trying no to sound defeated.

“Should’ve kept going, huh?” the other one laughed.

“Yup,” I answered as I rolled up my bag and tied a length of twine I’d found nearby.

Without saying anything else and head held high, I trekked off towards the highway some mile-and-a-half away. With my ‘bedroll’ slung across my body, I couldn’t help but think of the 1970’s TV show, ‘Kung Fu,’ only I am not Kwai Chang Caine or David Carradine for that matter.

Night seemed to fall too quickly and I have set up a cold camp, if I can call having only a sleeping bag, notebook and pencil, a camp. I shall have no fire this night as I’ve nothing to start one with and nothing to eat.

As I try to fall asleep, I can hear my wife: “See? I told you so!”