There wasn’t anything that gave me a plan. I just literally set off North. With no idea of how I was going to get there. I left the comforts of Stone Island for the uncertainty of the road. No guarantees of how long it would take, or how many rides it would take to get there.
I left with very little money and was intent on arriving with less baggage than I left with. Personal baggage that is. The unimaginable task of attempting to lose all my baggage in any of the 5 deserts I needed to pass through, or the many wildernesses I would have to cross in order to reach my destination was all I wanted to achieve. I didn’t really care if my physical body was all in one piece. What was more important was that somehow out there in the desert I would face all of my worst fears, and be able to shed them on the desert floor, or leave them beside the road.
I didn’t know that was what I needed when I left that morning. I woke up knowing I needed to go. I walked as the sun came up to the embarcadero, I was leaving paradise in search of hell, the fires of which would purify my soul.
I got onto the boat alone, and arrived on the shore. I walked 3 miles and stuck out my thumb. The universe had provided me my ride to the north. Within minutes I was on my way to Tijuana 1100 miles with my ride.
The universe had a lesson for me. What is meant to happen will happen no matter how hard I try to screw it up. I was destined for the refiners fire. I couldn’t fight it. Whether I experienced it in Mexico, or on the road was my choice.
My bags were packed. I was in the semi northbound to face all my life’s worst fears, my insecurities, and my inner pains that I’d never faced in my life….