My new friend.
“Whatever the mind of man can conceive and believe, it can achieve. Thoughts are things! And powerful things at that, when mixed with definiteness of purpose, and burning desire, can be translated into riches.” – Napolean Hill
To Boston.
The Fall sunlight in Rockland, Maine is crisp. It is 189 miles to Boston, Massachusetts, where my good friend lives and where I plan to spend at least a few days. Most importantly, my birthday, October 12th! I am on a mission today. I am blessed I think, because as I make my sign I notice I have Blue and Red markers, which are the colors of Bostoners beloved Red Sox. I get a cup of Green Mountain coffee, a banana, and an orange and before you know it, Doug and I are rolling down the road headed south.
Meet Doug.
“I’d trade my truck for that backpack, any day.” Doug is on his way hiking today, but only headed about 5 miles up the road. He hiked the whole Pacific Crest Trail. He describes it and it sounds beautiful. I am adding the PCT, as it is called to my 100 Things List. Doug drops me in downtown Thomaston.
Meet Jon.
Jon is a chef at the local prison. He picks me up in Thomaston. He is happy and he likes picking up hitchhikers, although his wife disapproves. Jon tells a story of a hitchhiker he picked up with his son, Heath. ”He was kinda strange.” Jon tells with a smile, although all the stories he told bore a grin. He introduced himself and his son to the hitcher, Jon and Heath. “Don and Keith!” Jon attempts to correct him. “I know, I got it! Don and Keith.” Jon tells me he gave up because he figured he would never see him again. Jon emphasizes this point. Jon isn’t going far either. Waldaboro, I think was the name of his hometown. He drops me right by Moody’s Diner though.
Moody's Diner in Waldaboro, Maine.
Moody’s Diner.
I ask people wherever I go their recommendations on what I should see in the area. Moody’s was recommended a few times. Although, I have traveled less than 20 miles, I can’t resist some more breakfast.
Moody’s is a diner catering to lots of tourists. There are humorous postcards in the foyer, “A Kiss from Maine.” They do eggs and pancakes, but I can’t shake a hankering for pie and ice cream. New England coffee and 4 Berry pie with vanilla ice cream is my breakfast. The elderly North Carolineans at the next table are amused.
On the road again.
Meet Mark #1.
Mark #1 wears flannel and doesn’t drive a fancy car, like Mark #2. He too isn’t going far, either. “You never though when you will get the ride to where you are going.” Mark tells me of his son-in-law whom hiked Mount Fuji in Japan and fell in love with hiking. He hiked the Long Trail in Vermont, PCT, and the Appalachian Trail, before he settled in a small town in Vermont to ski. Mark introduced his daughter to him. Mark drops me at a gas station that we both think is the best spot in the area for rides. Not great though, the cars zip past.
Meet Spencer.
A Saab zips past with a man that looks at me and smiles big. Spencer quickly stops and hits it in reverse. Spencer is headed to Portland, Maine. Finally!
Spencer is doing well financially. He has salt and pepper hair, a nice J Crew-looking sweater, and tanned skin. ”I married into Old Boston Money… that is after I divorced Old Boston Money… Hah!” I tell him my aspiration to travel the world and to hitchhike to make a living for myself. He gives me tips. Spencer is an entreprenuer himself and has his own business making custom medical equipment. Spencer feels likes he deserves to be rich. I agree.
Spencer thinks I should consult. He then tells me that maybe I should open up a hitchhiking school for rich kids. ”There is a lot of money in the world.” Spencer’s thinks I should charge 15,000$ to teach rich kids how to hitch and live on their own. “You’d be surprised how much money you could make!” His ideas make sense and I like his philosophy that having money is not something to feel guilty about. Shakti Gawain would say “Money is Energy.”
Spencer’s son just had plastic surgery on his ear, because he had level 4 Melanoma. ”Would have been a death sentence 6 years ago.” He is meeting his son in Portland to hear from the doctors if the cancer has spread. Spencer and his son, both don’t think it has.
Mark #2 has traveled the USA in this car.
Meet Mark #2.
Spencer drops me off on Route 95 headed south towards Boston. 120 miles to Beantown, according to Google. As I walk and check the distance on my phone, a shiny, black Corvette pulls up in front of me. Yippee-Ca-Yeah!
Mark #2 has hiking packs in his trunk that I have to move to fit my pack in. The Corvette’s trunk space is limited. Mark is headed to Boston, so at 11:52am, I relax and enjoy the ride.
Mark bought this car recently so he could roadtrip around the USA. “I could have bought a crappy Saab, but…” Why not go big? Mark will try to sell the car in New York City where he has family, before he heads to Israel for school. He bought the car on the cheap in Arizona and he figures he can at least break even, if not make money in New York City. Mark already has a couple folks interested on Craigslist.
Mark has traveled a lot and hitchhiked and we swap stories on the way to Boston.
Boston.
We use my phone and his maps to navigate ourselves into downtown Boston, where Mark drops me so he can meet up with a friend. My good friend, Chris, whom I am meeting in Boston is going fishing, so I have some time to kill.
It is sunny and windy in Boston today. Music students from a nearby college of music walk past with guitars on their backs and ear buds with white cords dangling.
Create Our World.
Ben
“The real source of wealth and capital in this new era is not material things.. it is the human mind, the human spirit, the human imagination, and our faith in the future.” – Steve Forbes
