2010 February 26
Elwha Campground > Port Angeles > Elwha Campground
Distance Biked: 8 miles
Experience confirms theory. For years I have felt my need for social interaction and wondered what it would be like to go without it. In fact, at twenty-five years old, I cannot recall greater than seventy-two hours when I had not spoken with someone I knew. This does not mean I am isolophobic. To the contrary, from childhood I enjoyed long periods of solitude. Hours on end could be spent in a room with none but green army men, or wandering the fields near home. As an adult I feel as strong a need to be alone for several hours a day, but there is the side which wants human company.
An actual deer in the headlights.
Part of this trip is an inquiry into my personality, learning what I enjoy and dislike, seeing how I respond to situations. Isolation is one of them that I feel both ways about. Two weeks on the road has been making this fact more real to me. While relishing the solitude for most of the day I feel also an itch to speak with people, to converse in a way beyond mere gratuities at the occasional gas station check-out. I find myself more emotionally hungry for interaction. Phone calls and emails have become significant markers in the day. And so far I am becoming more certain that a truth was unearthed in Christopher McCandless' last hours, that happiness is best when shared. My motto this week is, Reflection is done alone but with others we refract.
Three-and-a-half miles from Elwha the Clallam County bus runs 101 to Port Angeles, originating in Forks. For .75c one can take this either way. I rode back to Port Angeles hungering for an instant friend, or at least to check my email. Not being the most socially proactive, I sat quietly for hours in Bella Rosa. This turned out to be a fair waste of time as I finally wished to have hiked somewhere. However, all was not chaff. I needed some spare parts and replacement nuts for the bike were found at Swain's for .19c a piece, not bad.
On the return trip a bedraggled man with a broad, gummy grin and soft eyes introduced himself as Wild Bill. "At least that's what they call me all over the Country." Bill said I was a regular road dog as he once was, and insisted I take two dollars. "It's not much, but we road dogs look out for one another." He also offered me a bowl marijuana, but I declined and bought cookies at a nearby coffee shop instead. In retrospect, I probably should have stretched the money out with rice or oatmeal. Bill was a nice man to give me that.
During the evening I sailed along with Two Years and then called it a night.
Elwha Campground > Port Angeles > Elwha Campground
Distance Biked: 8 miles
Experience confirms theory. For years I have felt my need for social interaction and wondered what it would be like to go without it. In fact, at twenty-five years old, I cannot recall greater than seventy-two hours when I had not spoken with someone I knew. This does not mean I am isolophobic. To the contrary, from childhood I enjoyed long periods of solitude. Hours on end could be spent in a room with none but green army men, or wandering the fields near home. As an adult I feel as strong a need to be alone for several hours a day, but there is the side which wants human company.
An actual deer in the headlights.
Part of this trip is an inquiry into my personality, learning what I enjoy and dislike, seeing how I respond to situations. Isolation is one of them that I feel both ways about. Two weeks on the road has been making this fact more real to me. While relishing the solitude for most of the day I feel also an itch to speak with people, to converse in a way beyond mere gratuities at the occasional gas station check-out. I find myself more emotionally hungry for interaction. Phone calls and emails have become significant markers in the day. And so far I am becoming more certain that a truth was unearthed in Christopher McCandless' last hours, that happiness is best when shared. My motto this week is, Reflection is done alone but with others we refract.
Three-and-a-half miles from Elwha the Clallam County bus runs 101 to Port Angeles, originating in Forks. For .75c one can take this either way. I rode back to Port Angeles hungering for an instant friend, or at least to check my email. Not being the most socially proactive, I sat quietly for hours in Bella Rosa. This turned out to be a fair waste of time as I finally wished to have hiked somewhere. However, all was not chaff. I needed some spare parts and replacement nuts for the bike were found at Swain's for .19c a piece, not bad.
On the return trip a bedraggled man with a broad, gummy grin and soft eyes introduced himself as Wild Bill. "At least that's what they call me all over the Country." Bill said I was a regular road dog as he once was, and insisted I take two dollars. "It's not much, but we road dogs look out for one another." He also offered me a bowl marijuana, but I declined and bought cookies at a nearby coffee shop instead. In retrospect, I probably should have stretched the money out with rice or oatmeal. Bill was a nice man to give me that.
During the evening I sailed along with Two Years and then called it a night.
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