When I arrived to the San Francisco Bay Area, my friend thrust his copy of Kerouac’s Dharma Bums in my hand. “Read this” he said, “you’ll like it.”
Like Japhy did for Smith, I outfitted my friend, and we headed off into the smokey Sierras towards Matterhorn–to follow in Jack Kerouac’s footsteps.
After living out of a car and bumming around the States for the better part of a year, I soon found myself back in Berkeley–working in libraries by day and sleeping in my Prius micro-home at night–pouring through Kerouac’s description of SF and Berkeley from the 40s and 50s — 60 years before my present bumming around the same city.
Hoover Wilderness Stream
In Dharma Bums, Kerouac (Smith) describes his ascent of Mount Matterhorn (in the California Sierras), guided by their enlightened, outdoorsy friend Japhy.
My friend and I later made plans to go trekking together. It was his first overnight trek, and what better place to go than Yosemite? After all, that was where I’d gone on my first overnight trek a few years ago.
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.
Mikey looks North across the Golden Gate from Golden Gate Park, San Francisco
Bicycle Rack in Lothlórien
Mikey and J outside the Grassroots House in Oakland showing letter to Barbara Lee in wake of Operation Protective Edge
Jason King arrives in SF after cross-country run for Bitcoin & Homeless
Mikey’s bucket-and-door, work-from-home desk with linux, windows, and mac laptops. And an Android phone.
Mikey’s desk at work
Mikey’s fully-loaded bicycle on BART for ride to Santa Cruz
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.
Bicycle ride from Merced to Yosemite National Park
Top of half-dome
Mikey’s first overnight backpacking trip. In Yosemite.
The cables of half-dome
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.
Bicycle boxed-up and ready to be shipped from the West Coast
Brooklyn Bridge, NYC
Stonewall Inn
Winter in Brooklyn
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.
