Naples, Florida

I had done some hitchhiking by the time I was 25 years old but I had never pursued it beyond short-term transportation. I never endeavored to make an artform out of it--or a lifestyle. I never aspired to be another Sissy Hankshaw, the Tom Robbins character who took hitchhiking as far as it would go. But I wasn't afraid to give some serious hitchhiking a try. I had hitched across state before but never across the country.

It was when I was 25 that I embarked on my hitchhiking adventure. It was just about a month after I had my appendix taken out; less than five weeks after my soul-mate dumped me. I was physically and emotionally and monetarily broken and I needed to get the hell out of Texas.

I was itching to hit the road and when I came into a small sum of money I wasn't about to spend any of the money there. I wanted to see how far that money would last me and take me.

I left right away. Two shoulder bags; that's all I had. I walked down to the greasyspoon restaurant by the highway and treated myself to some breakfast. One shouldn't embark on a grand journey on an empty stomach. It was at the restaurant that I struck up a conversation with a fellow who was eating alone at a booth across from me. It turned out he was a traveling salesman who went from city to city giving seminars on something (I can't remember what). He was on his way to New Orleans.

After eating breakfast I had intended to go stand out on the highway and try to get a ride going east but I never had to even stick my thumb out. It turned out the traveling salesman hated driving alone and wanted some company so he offered to take me to New Orleans.

On the way to New Orleans I learned that he had seminars scheduled also in Mobile, Alabama, Clearwater, Florida, and Naples, Florida. He was happy to have me ride along all the way to Naples if I wanted but in Naples he was turning in his rent-a-car and flying back to Texas so I would be on my own at that point. Heck, I had never even heard of Naples, Florida before but I agreed.

Hitchhiking is not supposed to be quite this easy but this is indicative of how luck is a natural result of "dropping everything and going." One is always luckier when one doesn't have a care in the world. Is it those cares that impede our natural luck?

It was not the first time I just up and disappeared, cutting all connections with anyone I had known; leaving everything behind. Everything! Except toiletry items and clothes, of course. I had disappeared about four years earlier. That time I did it with a car, though.

When we got to New Orleans I walked the French Quarter while my ride sponsor seminared. How cool was that? I like New Orleans for the same reason I like Santa Fe. These two cities are both, not only old, but very unlike most American cities. You can walk the streets of both cities and feel like you were in a foreign country. I don't think I spent more than two or three dollars during the day spent wandering New Orleans. I just walked and observed.

It was the same in Mobile, Alabama. Boy, did that town ever have some sweet vibes. I loved the feel of that town and I had a very pleasant afternoon there. (I had slept in in the morning) For lunch I treated myself to a barbecue restaurant right on the waterfront. When I got inside the crowded restaurant I realized that I was the only white person in there. I estimated there were perhaps fifty people inside the restaurant, including staff, and everyone of them was black.

I was treated like a king. I ended up spending two hours in that restaurant talking with the people. Everyone felt compelled to talk to the white dude. What incredibly friendly people they were! And loud! It was one of those restaurants where nothing at all matches, seemingly put together with yard sale items. The building inside was somewhere between rustic and delipadated, but it felt very comfortable. I learned that lunch in that part of the country, for some, was a two to three hour long affair. It's too hot at that time of day so you eat and talk. The barbecue was phenomenal.

It was on the ride between New Orleans and Mobile that I learned that the traveling salesman didn't really like to drive that much either--especially after four o'clock which, to him, was cocktail hour. So I experienced most of the Gulf Coast behind the wheel while the salesman sipped martinis in the passenger seat. It was really a driver that he wanted and he felt he should pay me something so he paid for my dinner each night. This certainly wasn't hardcore hitchhiking. Jack Kerouac would have been disappointed.

I didn't get much thinking done while on the road because the salesman was constantly gabbing so I really appreciated my alone time in each city. In Clearwater, Florida I spent the day walking the beach; once again just walking and observing. It was too crowded for me, though.

In Naples my luck got even better. The salesman was scheduled for four days of seminars in Naples so he booked a motel room for four days. The first day he hooked up with a woman that apparently he knew and he opted to spend the rest of his time with her. He told me that I could have the motel room for the next four days. When I asked if he didn't want to get his money back, he said, "Nah. The company paid for it. I don't care."

So there I was in Naples, Florida. I spent only around twenty bucks getting there and I had a motel room just a block off the beach for four nights for free. How lucky was that?

Four nights all by myself in a totally foreign place where no one knows me, with nothing pressing to do but walk the beach and watch the sun setting over the Gulf of Mexico. For four days I wore only flip-flops. While I had slept on the floor of the salesman's motel room on the trip, now I had a nice soft cushy bed to sleep on. My upstairs motel room looked out over the water.

But that's not all. When the salesman left he forgot his bottle of gin and bottle of vermouth. Although I had remained sober on the trip I decided that it was high time I got shit-faced drunk so that's what I did that first night in Naples. Every now and again it can be a wonderful thing. Being in South Florida I should have been drinking rum, but oh well, the gin was free.

Once I was over the hangover on the second morning I remained sober the rest of the time there. I had to clear my head for some serious thinking. Three days of thinking; I had nothing else to do.

For three days I walked the beach or just sat looking at the water or the sunset. I didn't engage in any other activities (except eating and sleeping) nor did I hardly talk to anyone. Oh, how wonderful to not have a care in the world!

During those three days I connected to the place very strongly. I'm talking about the vibes of the place. Oh, they were heavenly! I felt I could hang out on that beach forever. It was like a three-day-long meditation on a sacred spot. It was indeed fantabulous.

I was able to put a lot of what had happened to me over the previous incredible year into better perspective. Being far away always helps with perspective. Water does, too. Listening to the sound of waves crashing in on the beach for three days straight completely altered my vibratory frequency. It was also incredible to be somewhere far from anyone I knew--and no one knew where I was. Ah! What a lovely feeling to disappear.

About a decade after my short "vacation" to Naples, Florida I got an astrocartography reading done for myself. This reading shows the astrological influences at play for me in all the geographic locations of the world. To my surprise I learned that according to the stars at the time of my birth the three best places for me in America are southern Wisconsin, Virginia Beach, Virginia, and Naples, Florida! Actually, Virginia Beach was the best place in America for me to visit while southern Wisconsin and the area around Naples, Florida were the best places to live. No wonder I was able to connect so strongly while I was there, even though I didn't know about it. Of course, I was only there for a visit.

I wasn't done with my disappearing, in fact I had barely begun. During my time in Naples I had decided that I wanted to walk the beach on the Pacific Ocean as well so I decided to hitchhike across the country. I had exercised my thumbs and when it came time to check out of the motel I was ready and I hit the road. I would learn, though, that going in a westerly direction it wouldn't be nearly as easy and lucky as my trip to the east. It was almost three months later when I finally made it to Los Angeles.