April 16 - 18, 2014

Scanning google maps prior to my departure, I came across a desert plain labeled "hell". I laughed and quickly dismissed it as sensationalism. Let me clarify something for you readers. Though it might not have been the hottest, I would still classify that desert as indeed Godless. From the dried remnants of trees reaching up to the sky with their empty branches, begging for a drink; to the black asphalt roads determined to have my shoes leave a print for every step I took. Down to my last half gallon of water and temperatures steadily rising, I followed my animal instinct and sought shade under a nearby tree. I know better than to fight the sun. Especially this low in supplies. I'll have to wait until dusk to start moving again. 

After what couldn't have been more than 20 minutes, a CHP officer drive by, passing me at first, but quickly turned around to inquire about my situation. I told him all was fine except my lack of water. Luckily he carried a water jug with him while patrolling the area and let me fill all my containers. He than warned me about a murder that had happened on that old highway a couple says prior. "He was burned alive". 

Well that's great, I thought. You don't want me traversing on the interstate, instead you'd have me out here literally walking through Hell. 

He then told me he'd have another patrol car bring me extra water later tonight. I thanked him as he departed, and decided I'd better carry on with my walking. 

With each step I took, I released more and more negative energy. Methodic as it was, I felt overtaken by how easily I could convince myself that every scenario brought up, I was again playing the role of the victim, the martyr. For every "woe is me" anecdote that played out in my mind, I quickly noticed how foolish each was. I was grasping at strings trying to reason my unhappiness based on responses to my own decisions. Perhaps this self imposed "exile" through the desert was in fact needed. The squad car showed up a half hour before sundown, and reiterated the importance of calling them if I feel unsafe. Sleep was restless, waking up every hour only to see the moons position had changed. I think a young coyote was crying out for care throughout the night and into the morning, but I did not investigate. I'm sorry. 

Waking up that morning, I felt slightly uneasy about the heat. When I hit the end of the chuckwalla road, the only option was to walk on the highway again. So I tried. 

Sure enough, not even 3 miles into the hump, CHP pulls up behind me giving the three same options as before " desert", "ticket", "drive u to nearest exit". I hate to admit, but I took the 10 mile ride to Mesa. As unfortunate as that was, riding in the car and peering out the window allowed me to see exactly how foolish my stubbornness would have been had I refused a ride. There was absolutely nothing. No roads, no water, nothing. Once I got to Mesa, I thanked them for the ride and ordered a sandwich from a Valero sub shop. Sitting there, I realized 10 miles is not worth dying over. I feel I made the right decision. On top of that, a woman gave me 20 dollars for locating her misplaced car keys ( they were on top of the garbage can by her vehicle). After briefly talking about my walk she told me to use the 20 wisely. After another days walk, I ended my day at Mayflower Camp Grounds in Blythe by the Colorado River. I stayed that night, and will stay here again tonight (Friday). My tent is right next to the Colorado river. After that walk through hell, it's nice to be so close to water. 

If you'd like to support me through my travels here's a link where you can donate. Money goes towards my water, food, and footwear.   Http://crowdrise.com/natewalks 

Thank you too all those who have donated already, and hope you all have a Good Friday.