So sleeping on top of the van didn’t work out quite like I’d hoped. The roof isn’t exactly flat – there’s a few linear risers that protrude just enough to make it uncomfortable. Also – the roof feels like it’s caving in under the weight of my body. So I’ve still been sleeping inside the van.
For the past two nights I’ve slept in the backwoods of a farm here in northern Michigan. I’m traveling south (out of the state) tomorrow morning. I’m still not sure where I’m headed.
A bit about why I’m sleeping at a farm: I was driving around planning to just pull over into the woods at night and sleep, when I passed a man in a wheelchair by the side of the road. He was slumped over groping for a package just out of his reach. I stopped to help – and we got to talking. His name is Gerald, but everyone calls him ‘lucky.’
So I told him a bit about my story and what I’m doing driving around, and he offered to let me stay on the back of his property. I felt completely comfortable about staying there, that is until he told me why people call him lucky.
Years earlier he had been hit by a bus. In fact that’s how he came to be in the wheelchair. He had been crossing the street in the middle of town and bent over for something. Apparently the bus driver didn’t see him all hunched over and the bus proceeded forward. Gerald was taken to the hospital where they found in his still clenched right hand – a penny.
Gerald had stopped to pick up a lucky penny, and hence everyone now calls him lucky. Quite an odd way to get such a complimentary nick-name.
Well off to get a good night’s sleep – so I can head out before the rooster crow’s tomorrow.
peace.
