OK, here’s the rest of the story about that calamitous adventure.
The plot thickened.
When i got home the next day i discovered a couple of phone messages from my sister describing an interesting phone call she’d just received from this nice guy named Spencer wondering if she knew where i was.
Well, San Francisco, of course, she replied, and then he dropped the news on her that he’d found her number on my passport in a backpack he’d picked up beside the road just south of the Oregon border, so she was wondering if i could maybe call her back and help her understand what my backpack was doing way up there.
Aieeeeeeeeeee! Busted.
But since it was on the answering machine, i had time to frantically try to think about how i might tiptoe around the awful truth, but failing that went ahead and returned her call and admitted that i’d been making a dash for the border without even telling her i was leaving town.
She was gentle.
And told me that Spencer had suggested that i call my own mobile phone number to contact him. Which i immediately did and discovered that he’d called her the previous evening from Ashland, probably about the same time i was having dinner there.
But knowing that my pack containing my mobile phone, cameras, computer and charging cord for the Segway was right there in Ashland, i’d returned to San Francisco since without all that stuff, i couldn’t continue the adventure.
So we had a nice chat, and he said he’d mail me my pack when he returned home to Bakersfield.
Which he did. And no, i’m not a total insect. I offered him a reward but he insisted that all he wanted was reimbursement for the expense of mailing my stuff. And when i was insisting, he agreed that a suitable compromise would be my making a donation to a favorite charity of his. So i did, and made it hurt. Actually, it’s a rather interesting group called M.A.R.E. focused on giving disabled kids rides on gentle horses.
But there i was with all my stuff back, which was kinda ironic since immediately after i left it all by the roadside i managed to convince myself that i didn’t need any of it. Well, except a camera, and i’d been thinking of treating myself to an upgrade anyhow. But instead, i’m stuck with trying to learn how to use more of the potential of the existing ones, which now that i think of it is far better than starting from scratch with yet another complicated new machine.
And then i had a marathon telephone conversation with his wife, Tammy, and found her a delightful combination of charm and knowledge, and so i’ve incorporated a visit with them into the end of the Desert Tour that Rina and i will be making in November.
And now that i’ve finally got all this written down, i’m realizing that the reason it took me so long to write it was that i feel undeserving of all this good fortune and couldn’t bear to tell anyone about it.
On the other hand, i just had a cheerful thought: if i had an enemy he’d be gnashing his teeth over this.
Meanwhile, since i have my camera back, here’s some Art. The title is “Post No Bills”
