Wet.

Today, I post about being wet. Next week I will likely post about being dry. "If I wasn't experiencing this, I'd be experiencing something else. If I wasn't doing this, I'd be doing something else. If I wasn't here, then I'd be somewhere else. So, I guess I'll just experience this, here. "
I've started several posts but just kept them in draft form, so although this may be the first time you are reading something, chances are fairly good that it isn't the first time I've written it. Drying out after all the rain of Lompoc wasn't easy. I didn't get on the road until 1:30, or maybe a little later.

The first thing I noticed when consciousness returned to me was the lack of the sound of rain drops on the top of the tent. I'll admit to a sigh of relief. After getting dressed, I opened the flap just as the sun began peeking out from behind some clouds. Such a welcome sight! I gazed upon a beautiful blue sky, indicating that the meteorologists were correct in their forecasting future events, so quickly gathered all my wet gear and found places for them to sunbathe.

After meditation, I began packing; strange how scattered my things can get when stuck in a tent for most of a whole waking cycle. My wet stuff was still damp so I turned them over and joined them in absorbing the sun's warmth. Finally, about 12:30, almost everything was dry enough to begin the loading process. I actually got on the road about 2.

I rode just 25 miles up the road and stopped for breakfast. With no idea where I was going, I spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out where to go. I decided I'd ride down to a tourist destination just down the road and see if there would be a likely twisting spot. Nope, so I just kept riding on that road. It led me to the coast. About 6:30, long after dark, I pulled off 101 at Ventura, thinking I would get some coffee and charge my electronics. Instead, I found a campsite just off the ramp for just $10. I jumped on it. Got the tent up and was in bed by 8. I think the two bunnies I saw by flashlight wondered why I went to bed so early.

I woke up this morning to a sopping wet tent. Seems the dew is even more pervasive than the rain. The sun was still hiding behind the fog bank and the bunnies were nowhere to be seen. I was in a bit of a foul mood due to the thoughts I was believing about how southern California was SUPPOSED to be dry, yet both the inside and outside of the tent was soaked.

It took me about two hours to break camp because of the moisture. (That reminds me that I need to open the tent to fully dry out. Forgot about that.) when I finally got loaded, I got on the road and began looking for a place to twist. I've waited too long to update this post because I've forgotten where I stopped. I do remember that I didn't make any money beyond what it cost to eat. This I know because it has been something of a pattern for a week or so now.

'Pay It Forward' is REAL!

I am the recipient of an example of this principal. Let me share with you and may you get a blessing from the story.
I stopped into a Golden Corral restaurant close to Victorville, California, for dinner in early December. There were very strange circumstances involved in my choosing that restaurant. I was getting VERY low on funds to the point of wondering what I could sell, since I was making so little twisting balloons, to pay my cell phone bill and my upcoming motorcycle insurance bill. So, since I have often made money twisting while I eat, choosing the most promising restaurant is important; but I must also be able to pay for my meal in case the Universe decides to tease me. I’ve found that It sometimes has an interesting sense of humor.
There were several possible restaurants in the area and I wasn't terribly hungry, meaning the idea of spending $15 for a meal that I might not be able to take full advantage of wasn't all that appealing. So I was very indecisive about choosing that particular restaurant. I drove around to all the restaurants in the area several times before deciding to go take the chance. Fortunately, I got the "rock star" space, as someone very dear to me calls it. This is the space closest to the door. I took this to be the sign that the Universe (my name for God) wanted me to go in as the lot was otherwise full.
As it turned out, that parking space was a very large piece of the miracle that was evolving. I went in, chose a table that wasn't the one I was invited to sit at by the waiter, and sat down. There were two kids at the next table so I made them balloons. I made a couple more balloons for a few people and then went on to eat.
About 20 minutes later, the young father of the first kid I made a balloon for came up to me and asked if the bike parked outside was mine. I said yes and he said, "You look like you're pretty cramped on that bike." I said that I was but it is what it is. He said in a slow, quiet tone, "Well...I have a Goldwing. You want it?" At first, I thought that he was joking but there was something about his demeanor that suggested he meant what he was saying. I said that I would sure be interested in taking a look at it.
Well, he wound up inviting me to stay at his home for a couple days while we made sure the bike was running well. I followed him and his family back into the LA basin and to a locked gate on a yard where they kept construction equipment. He got out and unlocked the gate, we drove the vehicles in and went on back to a doublewide trailer nestled against a large building in the middle of a dusty yard. Turns out that he was the night watchman. He lives on the lot with wife and child--the other child is his sister's son. He put together a cot for me to sleep on and told me that I needed to be gone between 6am to 5pm so that he didn't get in trouble for having a stranger on the lot. This young working man who was giving a stranger his $3,500 Goldwing Aspencade, by the way, is only 32 years old!
I saw the bike as soon as I pulled in. It looked great to me, although it was extremely dusty and dirty from having sat in the yard for a year. He told me that he had put about $2,000 into the bike not long before he quit riding it. The battery had totally died so he hooked it up to a charger: nothing. He upped the amperage to jump it and it started. It also blew out the low-beam headlight. Smoke came out of the pipes for a short time but soon quit and it idled smoothly. He took it for a little ride around the yard and then I got to ride it. It seemed a little heavy to guide, but we figured it was due to low tire pressure, which later proved to be accurate.
As mentioned, they hosted me for several days while I roamed around on my Yamaha, trying in vain to find a place to twist and make money. On my last day in town, I did manage to find somewhere to make about $80, which went toward paying Guy back for the battery and headlight he bought and oil/filter. Early the next morning, I loaded the Goldwing, Guy changed the oil--showing me how--and we took care of the paperwork. Unfortunately, he was unable to find the title but he gave me a bill-of-sale on a form downloaded from the internet. Then it was time to say goodbye and hit the road.
My first real ride on the bike was from the trailer to the gas station to fill up and put air in tires. The tire pressure almost didn't register on the gauge and the bike rode so differently after filling the tires that it was only my skill as an experienced motorcycle rider that kept me from wrecking in that first few miles. I had to guess what pressure to fill them and later research showed that I was just a few psi off. .The gas station was about half a mile away, right before the entrance to the freeway.
After getting air and gas, it was time to get on the freeway. I chose to go south one exit as my inaugural ride. The bike rode smoothly so I got off the freeway, went across the bridge and my next ride was about 300 miles at 75 and 80 miles per hour. The bike ran quite smoothly. Gas mileage was only 30 mpg and it didn't seem to have anywhere near the power a 1200cc bike should have, but as long as I remembered that it is a tour bike, not a sport bike or even a cruiser, it easy to make allowances.
The Goldwing is the Cadillac of motorcycles--luxury all the way. It is super-balanced, very smooth over bumps due to great air suspension shocks that can be adjusted by buttons in the fairing. It has a digital dash, AM/FM, cassette, CB and a CLOCK! I've been wanting to get a clock for my Yamaha for ...well, every since I bought it. I just never did. Guy had had a lighter installed on it so that I can charge my cell phone and tablet. Another nice thing about the bike is it is heavy enough that I can use the rear brake more than I could on the Yamaha.
I didn't get a chance to learn the bike before hitting the road, but I trusted the Universe, combined with personal experience riding, to keep me safe. The first time I really got to learn about the particulars of the bike was the day after I arrived in Lake Havasu City. I unloaded the bike at the house of my couch surfing host (an incredible young couple) and rode to the nearest park to ride around the parking lot and find out how maneuverable it is. I found out that, even though the Honda is longer and heavier than the Yamaha, it is more nimble on it's wheels. WOW!
Thus far, the only things with it that I've found that needs fixed is the horn button (horn works, button is gone), the engine seems to lose power every now and then, and the brake fluid reservoirs seem very old, the plastic of the windows seem eaten up. Other than these issue, it works very well. I am blessed.
Pay it forward IS real... 

Interesting times on the road.

I rode to Lompoc, Ca at the invitation of a Facebook friend who seemed to be inviting me to spend the weekend. This seemed to be a direction from the Universe, which it may well be. However, at the moment, I'm wondering what I'll be doing for sleeping space tonight. I've done what I've could to make myself available for Universal guidance, but so far nothing has presented itself.

My choices include driving out of town and finding a spot to unroll my bag and bivysac and trust that the Universe will supply me with a safe spot and a dry sleep. It is so sad that one cannot just pull over and get some sleep without a policeman interrupting. I can spend the last of my money on a hotel. I can go to the local homeless shelter. I could start riding east and see how far I get. I just thought of it so I don't think it will work for tonight, but I could put up a sign in the local stores asking for tent space. In any case, it doesn't look like I'll be making much money twisting balloons in Lompoc this weekend.

My friend, Keith, said, "You can have anything you want, as long as what you want is what God wants." It's my guess that what God wants is not always what I would want.

Sigh...sometimes life on a motorcycle includes a great deal of sitting. I've been in this restaurant since about 10 this morning, and it is 5 pm now. Just a bit tired of rain. There was a festival just 20 miles away that I might have been able to work at...had it been dry. According to the radar, it looks like I may be sitting here until they close, or will be riding back to the tent in the rain. So far, it hasn't cost me any out-of-pocket money to sit here; I've made back all that I've spent to eat, but nothing more. I am totally grateful for what I've made, but bills require a bit more. I hope it doesn't rain much while I'm in the desert...

Tomorrow, I am heading to Pasadena to see if that dentist I spoke with will work on my bridge. If not, then I am heading to Palm Springs or Lake Havasu City asap. I feel like I've brought Bandon weather with me, only without the wind. That's something, at least.

Yesterday, I wrote a long article on my tablet, only to have it disappear when I attempted to save it. Turns out that it was the Universe's way of protecting me from my own ignorance. After having time to research the information more today, I found that I had based the article on incorrect information. 

It occurs to me that isolation is good for business and thus, for the economy. The more isolated an individual feels, the more he or she has to spend to stay alive. If he has a community that grows food and feeds him, then he doesn't have to shop for those items. In fact, whatever we supply/help each other with, the less we have to shop. Thus, a shrinking economy MAY indicate a growing sense of community. One person helping another to live isn't traced by the government, yet it DOES effect the bottom line for businesses. So, as I see it, a growing economy indicates a slow death of community. The happiest countries are those that consider the community to be of great value...and that community may be as large as the entire country!

Happiest countries on the planet (score):

1. Costa Rica (64.0)
2. Vietnam (60.4)
3. Colombia (59.8)
4. Belize (59.3)
5. El Salvador (58.9)
6. Jamaica (58.5)
7. Panama (57.8)
8. Nicaragua (57.1)
9. Venezuela (56.9)
9. Guatemala (56.9)
11. Bangladesh (56.3)
12. Cuba (56.2)
13. Honduras (56.0)
14. Indonesia (55.5)
15. Israel (55.2)
16. Pakistan (54.1)
16. Argentina (54.1)
16. Albania (54.1)
19. Chile (53.9)
20. Thailand (53.5)

Isn't it interesting that the USA is #105? This according to http://www.happyplanetindex.org/

Well, have a mist out there. According to the radar, is looks like the rain MAY be coming to an end. I'm think I may as well pack it up and head for camp...and see if it is still there.