Journal Entry, Colorado roadwalking

I can’t believe I forgot to mention I met Jesus Christ yesterday outside of a Subway sandwich shop.  Before I get underway with todays entry, let me say a little something about that. 

I was coming out of a Subway, half a meatball sub in hand when a small Mexican/Native American guy with a plethora of nose hair and a Tide detergent jug (One of those large plastic ones) in hand.  I couldn’t tell if it was empty or full, but from my experience what I thought was about to happen was a guy was going to give me the old…

“Hey, my car is out of gas about three miles from here and I need 5$ for a jug full of fuel.” Conversation.

So when he grabbed my arm and said, “Hey man…”

I quickly said, “I’m sorry I don’t really have any money.” Which is the truth overall.

He smiled and said, “No, I don’t want money I wanted to talk to you.  Do you know what my name is?’

Uhh…no.

He pulled out a wallet that looked as if it was holding the receipts from every purchase made in the last 100 years and showed me his legitimate Colorado ID.

Jesus Christ

---- Cherry Hill

Colorado

He put it away and began speaking on the importance of peeing and pooing at least once a day in order to keep our bodies safe from the coming apocalypse that was a certainty within the next few years.

I began to walk away with a “Thanks man, I’ll do my part”, and he grabs my arm and smiles.

He tells me that the nukes they build are made from the dead and that he can do 100 one handed pushups because he cleans out his system once, and sometimes twice a day, of the waste in it.  I once again try to roll out.

He follows me and tells me that the dead shouldn’t be above ground more then 3 days and that if the waste in our bodies didn’t mix with the atmospheric conditions properly then the mathematic equations for fresh air and world peace would get out of whack and that we would all suffer because the numbers in science don’t lie. 

Oddly enough, he was actually right about the periodic table names and numbers he was throwing out, or from what I remember from School.  So I once again thanked him and tried my best to move on without being rude.

He called out once more and said, “If you rub yellow onion on your ankle the pain from your injury when you were a child wont bother you as much.”

WHOA!  Okay, here I have to ask…beautiful mind or nut-job????

So that was from yesterday that I forgot to mention.  And he did ask me to spread his word, so there it is.  I fell all discipley, and as an added bonus, I found a yellow onion on the side of the road within an hour of that meeting.  SWEAR!

My foot still hurts.

So, today was a long road walk, but it sure is nice out.  It ended less then spectacular as I was searching in vain for a camping spot and once again I am surrounded by private farms and fenced in land and wide open spaces where you couldn’t hide a MSR Hubba if you wanted to.

Darkness comes on and I cross bridge after bridge and I decide once again that maybe I can crawl under one of them and put up the tent and hopefully not be bothered too much by the traffic noise above, much like my thoughts from last night.

So, as the road clears I duck under a bridge.  Not bad actually.  The road is closer then I would like and I half to duck down to get into this area.

I begin unpacking and putting down my tent and within ten minutes of removing my pack I hear a car slow down.

Crap.

Then I hear a door shut…man oh man…and then I hear footsteps and the loose spillage of gravel as someone walks down the embankment on the edge of the bridge.

I turn and await the coming flashlight.  And there it is.

I expect it to be a cop, but it is an old guy who owns the land near here.  He informs me that I cant sleep here, even though it isn’t his land.

I explain what I am doing and that the roadside is dangerous right now as it is late and I don’t want to get hit by some driver in the dark of night and if he didn’t mind maybe I could, in the name of safety, put my tent up out in one of his fields.

He doesn’t care one iota.  

 I don’t even know how he saw me unless he was watching me from a distance form one of the farmhouses off the road here.  I should have told him Jesus Christ was a friend of mine.  Probably still wouldn’t have worked.

He is one of the only grumpy-asses I have met this entire time in Colorado.

So I pack up as he waits for me to leave and I make my way not believing his insecurity and fear.

I walk for another hour and get into the very small and nearly non-existent town of Olney Springs.  There is nowhere and nothing here.

A local Sheriff pulls up to me and tells me he got a call from a farmer saying some guy was trying to camp on his property…geez. 

So I tell him the story, he tells me it’s a little dangerous to be out this time of night, I agree and then he offers and takes me to a town about 5 miles South of here called Fowler where there is a small hotel called ‘Brushy’s Blue Moon Hotel’.

Thanks man, I would have rather camped and saved the $40, but at least I’m not getting arrested.

Stupid old man calling the sheriff…what would’ve Jesus have done?

Probably rubbed an onion on him and made him go away.