Tag Archives: san francisco

Going East (by car)

Where to begin? Should I start in the Sequoias–my time wandering through the largest trees in the world? Or stumbling into what felt like an unofficial rainbow gathering in Mendocino? Or Yellowstone, where I spent a week amongst the bears and elk–getting snowed-on and walking though basins where the earth’s crumbling crust gave way to pools of scalding-hot water?

I spent a week amongst the bears and elk — getting snowed-on and walking though basins where the earth’s crumbling crust gave way to pools of scalding-hot water

Alas, I’ll start with the present. At the time of writing, I find myself in Madison, Wisconsin. My preoccupation as of late is no longer my next backpacking trip through some US national park.


Mikey's bicycle is parked next to a large pool of water that is emitting hot steam
Casual Earth Steam

In less than a month, I’ll be boarding a plane one-way to the Middle East, and I don’t plan to come back to the US for over a year (closer to two).

Indeed, my current preoccupation is selling my car, getting back to NY, and finding some clever way to fit my folding bicycle into a checked bag that’ll go under the bike-fee radar for the German airline on my flight to Israel.


Mikey's tent is setup in a field. There is light snow on the ground and many clouds in the sky. In the distance, snow-capped mountains can be seen.
Thunderer Campsite in the morning

My last major stop was Yellowstone, and my what an adventure that was! For the record, if you visit Yellowstone in September, all the backpacking permit fees are waved. And there’s at least 3 campsites that are entirely accessible by bicycle. But, even if you just visit Yellowstone by car, it’s quite an experience. There’s fewer awe-inspiring vistas than other national parks, but looking across a low-lying basin with huge plumes of water vapor rising from patches of pools stretching out to the horizon offers a unique sort of inspiration in it’s own wright.

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Hitchhiking Florida to New York

Tomorrow I’m going to the I-75 on-ramp, sticking out my thumb, and hitchhitching 2,500 km from Florida to New York City. I’ve never hitchhiked more than a few hundred km, so this multi-day adventure is a long-awaited trip. Tomorrow I’m picking up a cardboard box, ripping it to size, and painting “I 75 N” with my magnum permanent marker–the hitchiking essential.

A backpack is sitting in the shoulder of an on-ramp with a cardboard sign reading "NYC". A sign indicates that the on-ramp is Interstate 95.
Thumbing my way back to NYC

It’s my second week living unemployed, and I’m wasting no time jumping head-first into my first adventure as an American Vagrant. I have some paperwork to file in the Big City, then I plan to stick out my thumb again–hitching WB from New York to San Francisco. My hope is to make it in a week, but yahoo answers says 4 days to 1 year 😉


Portland to Seattle

I’ve been in Seattle for nearly 3 weeks. On Saturday, I’ll pack my bicycle in a box and fly the furthest north I’ve ever been–to Alaska.

Mikey sits on a hill at Gas Works Park overlooking the PUget Sound and the Seattle Skyline
Gas Works Park, Seattle

After I left Dexter, I took a 4 hour train north to it’s big sister city: Portland. From San Francisco to Eugene, Portland to Seattle, and–soon–Vancouver, there’s pretty much one dominating theme: homelessness & gentrification.

In Portland there’s a joke that you don’t meet anyone actually from Portland anymore. And it’s true. I met folks born in Portland only in Eugene & Seattle, and they had a wealth of knowledge to share.

From the half-dozen cranes stacking gross luxury apartment complexes in Portland’s Pearl District to a new-age/city-integrated sprawl of Amazon’s office towers that blight Capitol Hill in Seattle, big tech companies have drastically changed these cities. And if you pack a bowl at the ever-growing tent cities that form in clusters under nearly every bridge in these Pacific Northwest cities, you’ll learn how these “developments” aren’t helping its people.

I never saw someone sitting in a public space tied-off, needle-in-arm, searching for their vein on the metro in Santiago (as I did in San Franciso’s Civic Center BART station).

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San Luis Obispo to San Francisco

I’ve been living with my friend in the SF Bay Area for the past month. I’m writing this from a cozy, finished room in the corner of a large, leaky warehouse hosting a datacenter and massive library of books in Richmond, CA. The building is owned by a nonprofit library that digitizes books and makes them available online, and my friend has become something of its caretaker while in school.

Mikey is smiling, pointing to a sign that reads "Big Basin Redwood State Park, Rancho Del Oso, A California State Park"
Big Basin Redwoods State Park

Last weekend, on my friend’s Spring Break, I went on my first bicycle tour in over a year. From the Bay Area, we took a train down to San Luis Obispo, and started riding ~300 miles along highway 1, through Big Sur, back to San Francisco. It was a trying journey–both physically & emotionally, but also really really really beautiful. And I needed the Vitamin D. But I could have been spared the Poison Oak and sunburn…

The SF Bay Area is always a great place to be. It was great to spend time with Friends & Family I hadn’t seen since I moved from Berkeley to travel the world over a year ago. I’d like to stay longer, but there’s still so much of the world to see. The weather is getting warmer, and Canada is calling!

Saturday morning I plan to wake up at the crack of dawn, load up my bicycle, and ride ~80 miles to Sacramento before Sunday evening. I’ll spend a week staying with a new friend in Sacramento, then I’ll be going up to Eugene, where I’ll be staying with a friend at the Lost Valley Eco Village.


A hobo is born

After I graduated college, I sold or gave away most of my possessions. As a young US American following the footsteps of many before me, I headed west to California.

ho·​bo  / ˈhō-(ˌ)bō /
(n.) a migratory worker

With just a few duffel bags of cargo, my 21-st century move from Florida to California lasted only a few hours on an airplane. My destination: San Francisco — where, in a few weeks, I’d begin a new job as a software engineer.

During my time living in California, I visited Yosemite National Park and went on my first-ever overnight trekking trip. This experience taught me much about self-sufficiency and packing light–something that I later refined to an art.


I was in San Francisco for just over a year, but I never spread my roots too deep. Before my second year, my feet were itching for something new, and I found myself on a plane again — this time destined for New York. With Guthy’s voice singing through my earphones, I flew from the Redwood forests to the New York islands.

After some time, I was off again, heading down the US east coast back to Florida, and I hopped a plane to the furthest city in America that had an international airport — Santiago de Chile.