In Fresno, the bus schedules to get to and from Yosemite are not aligned with the city busses.
The first leaves town at 5:30 AM, the second leaves at seven something.
I could have called up a rideshare service, but I can eat for a week on twenty bucks, so I thought, “Which is more valuable? Six days of food outside or one six-mile ride to the bus station?”
I walked. That was Thursday morning, 11 July 2024.
I am a walking fool. I have walked everywhere my whole life. I even have had jobs to which I walked ten miles there or back every day. Not both ways though. Again, it was because there was no public transport at that time of night.
I always see walking as an option to get anywhere, and I mean, “anywhere.”
I would like to walk across the country, for example. I do not think I will do that in the time I have though because there are so many other walks to do. Also, I do not like sharing the road with cars, and I would have to do that to push a cart. Maybe if I can figure out a route without cars.
Regardless, I say all that to indicate I am not “normal” when it comes to walking. Walking six or so miles across town with a backpack to the Amtrak station where the busses all go now is no big deal.
It gave me a shakedown cruise to test my new boots out and see how the load felt on my shoulders.
Fine. Boots a little stiff. No hotspots. Pack straps not quite right. They never were with that pack, but so long as the load was under thirty pounds, I could deal with the way they dug in at two spots on my chest. I brought some foam pad and duct tape to make some experiments there.
The whole trip was meant to be a shakedown cruise. I was testing a lot of gear, and I was testing my own strength, stamina, and discipline.
The week before, I had my van break down in Yosemite on the way up!
That cost me seven hundred buck in towing. Triple A was not honored by two companies! I was parked on the side of the road for three nights before I could get a truck to haul me out too. It was fine. I was in a beautiful spot by a river, and I had plenty of supplies. The van was comfy to sleep in too.
But I was stuck. Fixing the van, no big deal, really, for me, but it would cost me all my spare money, and I’d be stuck in Fresno again with a great van I could not drive anywhere because I was broke.
So before I fixed the van, I looked at busses to Yosemite. I found out that a round trip ticket for the Fresno-Yosemite run was only twenty bucks!
For the cost of a fuel pump, I could get a bus ticket and food for two weeks.
It was off to the mountains then.
I am considering selling the van. It is not giving me freedom. Quite the opposite.
Also, it burns gasoline, and petroleum based fuel is disgusting. I feel degraded every time I fire it up. A great campmobile, sure, but what use is anything you cannot trust? Where next will I get stranded with a three thousand pound tent?
All I did was park it and walk anyway.
I am mid-thought about all this.
Meantime, our topic: Load the pack and head out. No stops.
I did that instead of working on the van. It was a smart play. I got lots of material for art production, and my costs went to a tenth. I stayed out from Thursday night to Saturday of the next week without buying anything but a coffee at the Yosemite Village deli. That was a treat. I still had some instant coffee left, but it was Peet’s Coffee! I like their dark roast drip.
That part of my plan worked well.
And that is why I was walking to the bus with a backpack in Fresno.
Some impressions…
Getting into the old Van Ness area on Gettysburg, I saw to me left facing me a Ford SUV that looked rather like a sheriff’s car, but I could not quite see the sides. There was some shrubbery. I was approaching the street it was on. Yes, I could see that particular green stripe on the side now. But the engine was off and there were no lights.
This being my hood, I knew no deputy lived there. Odd!
Just as I was crossing his direct front, the asshole blasted me with his lights!
Cops do that. They like to startle you. I know why. I actually understand. People with guilty consciences will over-react; they can use that.
I, however, was glad my right eye had remained in shadow so as not to lose my night vision. After that, as I walked, I waved to every single cop I saw stopped.
That is a new thing with me because I generally do not like police because I do not like stupid and rude bullies.
I have to confess that though that remains true, I keep meeting cops who are polite and kind to me, so my anarchist soul is a bit muddled on the topic for the moment.
Nevertheless, I have never feared police, not even the malicious punks that get into some forces.
I sure saw a lot of them as I walked to the train station. My bus was to be there at 5:30 AM.*
I am not sure of the exact distance. I always say, “six miles.” It feels like eight!
It is a good, long walk.
Six miles, eight miles, however long it is, I walked right down the main street this time. The “Y” at Abbey and Blackstone turns one-way. I had not walked that region in years. This is cheap hotel row with all the prostitutes. I purposely wanted to walk through that seedy part.
But even there, after four in the morning, things quiet down.
Any other highlights?
Ah.
I sat right at the edge of the canal about an eighth oh a mile from Shields. The water was so high! Then, when I noticed my time, I flt I had to book it, now, and I did.
That was probably the fastest walking I did the whole trip.
I know. Short post. This is a post between posts to keep the flow up. I got a bunch in various draft stages. Don’t be shy! Drop a comment. It’s moderated by yours truly, ad I am nice to nice people.
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* I always want to use the four digit 24-hour clock, so here, 0530. It’s fucking efficient! But it is hard to read the PM times without practice, and we have stories to tell, so I revert to the archaic form for my dear readers.]