A few weeks ago I did something a little unorthodox. Of course, my whole life has been slightly unorthodox, full of sporadic little adventures based mostly on desperation of some sort. What I did was this: I quit my seasonal job in Vail, Colorado, and bought a one-way plane ticket to the farthest place I could conceivably afford to fly to with my meager savings and I waited.
Two weeks of unpaid vacation went by and finally March 13th arrived. I flew out of Denver International Airport and arrived the next morning at Kailua-Kona airport, on the Big Island of Hawaii. Although some may scoff at the mildness of this move, I must mention that A) My planning did not take me any further than the plane ticket, which exausted my funds, B) Hawaii is pretty much another country. It's at least a couple thousand miles from any significant landmass, and C) I decided that I would survive on a small package of spirulina and live in an $8 Walmart hammock with an 8X8 tarp to cover me. So, when I go I go hard.
I had an overnight layover in San Jose airport where I met a woman who was vacationing on the BI and had never been before. We immediately bonded and decided to share a sleeping bench in the airport for the night. The next morning we stumbled bleary-eyed toward the Pete's Coffee stand and discussed Hawaii over steaming paper cups of coffee. My friend, V, told me all about the various budget adventures she planned to take while on the island and invited me to stay with her a night or two if I needed to shower or simply sleep on a real bed. She was staying in the South Kona coast at a nice little country retreat, hidden away from the rest of the nice little country coast (it's very country out here).
One five hour flight later and I was at ground zero of my own personal freedom. I was far enough away from the mainland that it would be a pain in the ass to go back right away, but not too far that it would be too much of a pain in the ass if something happened in my family, or I simply wimped out and got sick of spirulina. V picked me up in her rental car and gave me a ride to the Old Airport beach, where I spread out, sat under a tree, and formulated something resembling a plan. I decided I was uninterested in town and I wanted to walk the coast a ways. I tried to rearrange one backpack, one travel guitar, one heavy pair of boots, and one smaller bag so that they would be easier to walk with. I had packed lightly, but not practically. My only shoes were slipper mocossins with fur lining, appropriate for Colorado winter but totally inappropriate for my current situation. The heavy boots were also impractical, as they were made for Ohio winters.
I ended up walking around five miles that first day, the weight of my belongings totally weighing me down. I kind of wanted to die by the time the sun was setting. My whole body ached and I could not breathe easily because of the way I was carrying the bags against my body. It didn't matter though, because I was in Hawaii and I never had to return to my punkass job again! As night fell I began to look for a place to hang my hammock. Just before the last light sunk under the earth and left me in complete darkness I saw a black figure moving swiftly in a ravine below. I was hoping it was a friendly domesticated dog. It looked like a panther. I ignored it and pressed on, looking for appropriately spaced trees far enough away from the highway that I would be safe from harassment. I searched for about an hour more before I collapsed in exaustion next to a row of hedges near a lava rock wall. I wedged myself in between hedges and wall and unrolled my tarp, clumsily shrouding myself and my belongings. I prayed that I would no longer feel as if I had been hit by a semi truck when I awoke.
Although seemingly endless, the night I spent 'under the bush' was rather beautiful. A little chilly, thank god for wool socks, but no complaints. I wasn't harassed by any scorpions, fireants, centipedes, brown recluses, or police officers. Bums and tweakers I figured I could fight off or join in some sort of vagabond alliance, but the former pests I did not wish to meet.
So, there it is. That's how this trip began.
