randomKo_Orean Profile Blog Joined October 2004 Korea (South) 3585 Posts Last Edited: 2011-10-25 02:23:16 #1 The story will be posted every Monday and Thursday starting this week. Names in this writing may or may have not changed to protect the innocent.



PLEASE DO NOT TRY TO CONTACT ANYONE IN THE STORY BESIDES ME.



It’d be an awful way to repay their kindness if these people got badgered by random Internet strangers because of me.



Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5









I just graduated from UCSD last June, and the lease was ending by end of the month. Add to my dismay, I had nowhere to move. My older brother has offered me a room, but it wasn't available until end of July due to the fact that his in-laws were coming from Korea. I couldn't exactly pack up my stuff and go to my father's house, since there was no room anyways. And I thought it'd be a perfect time to take a 3-4 week trip somewhere, except there was one problem: I haven't had a proper vacation or gone on a trip for years, mainly because I've always had no time, money, or both.



Hi, my name is randomKo_Orean, and in between the days July 5th, 2011 and August 2nd, 2011, for exactly 28 days, I left my home in San Diego, California, with a single backpack, and a sleeping bag to go on a rather unorthodox adventure. The story that will follow next couple weeks will include getting a speeding ticket, helping out random handicapped people at 3am, losing my ID, having a blast at parties, working at odd jobs here and there, hanging out with people that spend years in prison (one guy came out of prison the day I met him), and meeting bunch of Brits and TLnetter, among other things.



The rule that I set for myself for this trip was simple. Go EAST, with no cash / credit card / debit card / gift card / etc. and return alive within 3 weeks. Doesn't matter how I do it, but I'd have to start off by walking or hitchhiking. My idea of return trip was that I made enough money to take a Greyhound Bus back. (Well, I brought $6.50 for laundry money, but hey, gimme a break. Also, it ended up being 4 weeks for reasons that you'll find out later.)





replica of the original backpack



So what was in the backpack, weighting somewhere around 27 lbs? 10 pairs of socks, 3 sets of clothes, beef jerky, water bottle, and 2 cartons of cigarettes.



Prior to the start of the trip, when I had this inspiration, I asked people the following question: "How far east, do you think, I can get and return in 3 weeks with no money, and mainly by hitchhiking?" Most common answers were Arizona, Nevada, or dead. (I personally thought I'd get to Texas if I got lucky) Matter of a fact, when I asked for TL's opinion in regards to this proposition were... not encouraging.



I just graduated from UCSD last June, and the lease was ending by end of the month. Add to my dismay, I had nowhere to move. My older brother has offered me a room, but it wasn't available until end of July due to the fact that his in-laws were coming from Korea. I couldn't exactly pack up my stuff and go to my father's house, since there was no room anyways. And I thought it'd be a perfect time to take a 3-4 week trip somewhere, except there was one problem: I haven't had a proper vacation or gone on a trip for years, mainly because I've always had no time, money, or both.Hi, my name is randomKo_Orean, and in between the days July 5th, 2011 and August 2nd, 2011, for exactly 28 days, I left my home in San Diego, California, with a single backpack, and a sleeping bag to go on a rather unorthodox adventure. The story that will follow next couple weeks will include getting a speeding ticket, helping out random handicapped people at 3am, losing my ID, having a blast at parties, working at odd jobs here and there, hanging out with people that spend years in prison (one guy came out of prison the day I met him), and meeting bunch of Brits and TLnetter, among other things.The rule that I set for myself for this trip was simple. GoDoesn't matter how I do it, but I'd have to start off by walking or hitchhiking. My idea of return trip was that I made enough money to take a Greyhound Bus back. (Well, I brought $6.50 for laundry money, but hey, gimme a break. Also, it ended up being 4 weeks for reasons that you'll find out later.)So what was in the backpack, weighting somewhere around 27 lbs? 10 pairs of socks, 3 sets of clothes, beef jerky, water bottle, andPrior to the start of the trip, when I had this inspiration, I asked people the following question: "How far east, do you think, I can get and return in 3 weeks with no money, and mainly by hitchhiking?" Most common answers were Arizona, Nevada, or dead. (I personally thought I'd get to Texas if I got lucky) Matter of a fact, when I asked for TL's opinion in regards to this proposition were... not encouraging. On July 02 2011 11:32 micronesia wrote:

I can't for the life of me understand why someone would want to do this. I hope you change your mind. There are many thing you could do that you would ultimately enjoy much more... I think you will regret this.



On July 02 2011 12:13 floor exercise wrote:

Seems like a really bad idea, especially in the US (and NA in general) where hitch hiking is not something people do except out of extreme necessity. It just seems really dangerous and stupid to do. It's like choosing to live on the street for 3 weeks. You could do it, but why in the hell would you? Go backpacking, or hike the Appalachian trail or some shit.



My friends/families all humored me as well, and thought I was not going to do it. They didn't think there would be someone crazy (or stupid, depending how you look at it) enough to pull this shit. And the ones that knew that I was being sprsrs tried their damn hardest to stop me from going on the trip. Think about it: there's some short-ass bald-headed Korean kid going on a hitchhiking trip by himself? Really? Hell, I wouldn't believe it either if someone told me that.







Day 1 : 7/5/11 (Tu)







I woke up at 6 AM, and I figured there would be no way in HELL I would ever get out of San Diego / Orange County / LA Area. So I decided the first forward movement would be taking a Greyhound bus to Barstow, CA from Santa Ana, CA. My lovely friend gave me ride to the bus station, and I was off.



At this point, do realize that I've actually never gotten out of Southern California area for a long, long time. Yes, I've been to Colorado and Florida for a competition back in high school. Yes, I've been to Las Vegas once, with my father and my brother. Yes, I was born in Korea. But I haven't seen the Korean land for 13 years, and you could barely say that I've been on vacation. So I had no fucking clue what the fuck I was going to do, and how I was going to do whatever I was going to do.



I got off the bus in Barstow, and started walking toward I-40 East, in hopes of someone picking me up.





Barstow, CA



After about an hour of standing around the freeway entrance, I thought I'd have better luck getting someone to pick me up on the freeway. So I walked. And then I walked some more. For three and half hours, I walked eastbound on Interstate 40. Someone flipped me off, and couple truckers honked at me in excitement, but no one picked me up.



[At one point, I got off an exit near a military base to see if I'll get lucky. There was a semitruck resting at the entrance of the freeway. I figured the driver was knocked out, but I wasn't sure, so I ended up calling 911 since I had no way of knowing that he was alive or dead. And maybe I'd get lucky and he'd give me a ride, who knew? But when the fire department people came, he just bounced out. It wasn't entirely loss though, the fire fighters gave me 2 bottles of water and wished me luck.]



As I kept walking, a crippling fear started to overtake my conscious. I was running out of water in 104 degree weather heat, in the middle of the fucking desert, and 10 miles east from closest gas station. "Well," I thought, "I can still deal with all that." But there was a huge unexpected problem: there was a fucking thunderstorm to the direction I was walking.





A fucking thunderstorm, in a middle of Californian desert?





"Are you fucking joking me?"



I originally thought it was just cloudy or some shit; I was in denial when I saw flashes of light from the east. Worst thing? It was coming TOWARDS me.



“This can’t be fucking happening.”



Long time ago, when I was younger, I read old survival guide in the nature thing in Korean. Somewhere in that text, there was a section that talked about what to do when there’s a thunderstorm. Apparently, the best thing is to 1) stay in the house, or 2) stay in a car. You can’t stand next to a tall tree, because it’s a lightning rod. You can’t stand next to a wide tree, because it’s also a lightning rod. You can’t stay outside beside the car, because metal = a lightning rod. What a fucking useless book.



As I was walking on the freeway, I noticed that there were no trees, so no problem on that. But I also had no car or house to stay in and avoid the impending doom. Now, please do note that there were an exit every fucking 3 miles, and it takes about an hour to walk from an exit to exit. But closest thing to resembling a building was good 10 miles behind me. I figured, I rather not get struck by a lightning, so what’s another 3 hours of walking backwards? And then I turned around again because I thought that was a stupid idea. I’d never make it before I pass out from exhaustion. Why the hell did I even bring that much shit?



“Wait… I can camp out under a bridge!”



I didn’t know if the next exit, located about a mile from where I was at, had a bridge under the freeway. If there wasn’t… well, I’d be screwed to say the least. And if there was, I could avoid the rain/thunder, camp out with the little food / water I had and weather the weather (pun intended), and more importantly, think about my next course of action. And lo and behold, after 20 minutes of walking, there was a bridge. Fuck yeah.



So I got some rest, and immediately regretted the fact that I even came out on this trip. There was almost no traffic in that particular exit, so chances of me getting picked up was next to none. I tried to take a nap, but the sound of cars passing the bridge (which was constant) made it impossible. With my ingenuity (and technological advances of cellular phones), I found out that there was a small town 3 miles of that exist called Daggett. It looked like it had couple buildings and a post office, and I figured there would be some people or at least a place to sleep under the cover of building shade stuff. Not much, I know, but hey, it was the next closest thing to a civilization, so as the first drops of rain started pouring above my head, I headed for Daggett.



A blue crew-cab truck was coming from that direction. I flagged it down, hoping whoever stopped would be kind enough to give me a ride to Daggett; I wanted to avoid the rain as much as possible. The white lady in her late 30s or early 40s in the car stopped, rolled the window down ever-so slightly.



rK: “Excuse me; I was hoping that I could get a ride to this place called Daggett. It’s in the direction that you were coming from.”

The lady: “Uhh, I have a kitten that I just found that I’m dropping off at an animal shelter before it closes… I’m kind of lost so…” She sounded reluctant. And indeed, there was a kitten in a cage on her passenger seat.



Wait, what?



rK: “I KNOW WHERE THE ANIMAL SHELTER IS I PASSED BY THE DAMN PLACE AS I WAS WALKING HERE I CAN TAKE YOU THERE CAN YOU PLEASE HELP ME OUT HERE TAKE ME TO DAGGETT OH PREASE PREASE PREASE” (I didn’t actually said this, but it was something like similar, I’d imagine.)



This angel sent from the heavens above picked me up. And even though I was backtracking, the A/C and in comforts of a car, was fucking amazing. She introduced herself as Lisa; we chatted a bit, and got to the animal shelter (fucking took 5 minutes to get there). After hearing my story, she was more than… confused, to say the least. But she finally regarded me as harmless, and asked me if I was hungry after dropping off the stray kitten. “YES PLEASE” I replied. Yeah, not really a great answer to that question.



The kind lady called her husband, Tim the military man, and arranged to meet at a local diner, where she bought some food for me and gave me advices about the desert, about the foxes, snakes, and heat. Much better advices than the fucking useless survival guide book, I can tell you that. Lisa and her husband then offered to drop me off somewhere farther east and wished me luck. Then something changed.



Lisa: “We have a trailer house that needs fixing in Texas… Our tenants left and it’s draining our resources and the trailer park contacted us saying that it needed maintenance… Tim can’t go since he doesn’t have permission from his CO (Commanding Officer) to leave the area...”





Fucking jackpot.





My friends/families all humored me as well, and thought I was not going to do it. They didn't think there would be someone crazy (or stupid, depending how you look at it) enough to pull this shit. And the ones that knew that I was being sprsrs tried their damn hardest to stop me from going on the trip. Think about it: there's some short-ass bald-headed Korean kid going on a hitchhiking trip by himself?Hell, I wouldn't believe it either if someone told me that.I woke up at 6 AM, and I figured there would be no way in HELL I would ever get out of San Diego / Orange County / LA Area. So I decided the first forward movement would be taking a Greyhound bus to Barstow, CA from Santa Ana, CA. My lovely friend gave me ride to the bus station, and I was off.At this point, do realize that I've actually never gotten out of Southern California area for a long,time. Yes, I've been to Colorado and Florida for a competition back in high school. Yes, I've been to Las Vegas once, with my father and my brother. Yes, I was born in Korea. But I haven't seen the Korean land for 13 years, and you could barely say that I've been on vacation. So I had no fucking clue what the fuck I was going to do, and how I was going to do whatever I was going to do.I got off the bus in Barstow, and started walking toward I-40 East, in hopes of someone picking me up.After about an hour of standing around the freeway entrance, I thought I'd have better luck getting someone to pick me up on the freeway. So I walked. And then I walked some more. For three and half hours, I walked eastbound on Interstate 40. Someone flipped me off, and couple truckers honked at me in excitement, but no one picked me up.[At one point, I got off an exit near a military base to see if I'll get lucky. There was a semitruck resting at the entrance of the freeway. I figured the driver was knocked out, but I wasn't sure, so I ended up calling 911 since I had no way of knowing that he was alive or dead. And maybe I'd get lucky and he'd give me a ride, who knew? But when the fire department people came, he just bounced out.It wasn't entirely loss though, the fire fighters gave me 2 bottles of water and wished me luck.]As I kept walking, a crippling fear started to overtake my conscious. I was running out of water in 104 degree weather heat, in the middle of the fucking desert, and 10 miles east from closest gas station. "Well," I thought, "I can still deal with all that." But there was a huge unexpected problem: there was a fucking thunderstorm to the direction I was walking.I originally thought it was just cloudy or some shit; I was in denial when I saw flashes of light from the east. Worst thing? It was coming TOWARDS me.Long time ago, when I was younger, I read old survival guide in the nature thing in Korean. Somewhere in that text, there was a section that talked about what to do when there’s a thunderstorm. Apparently, the best thing is to 1) stay in the house, or 2) stay in a car. You can’t stand next to a tall tree, because it’s a lightning rod. You can’t stand next to a wide tree, because it’s also a lightning rod. You can’t stay outside beside the car, because metal = a lightning rod. What a fucking useless book.As I was walking on the freeway, I noticed that there were no trees, so no problem on that. But I also had no car or house to stay in and avoid the impending doom. Now, please do note that there were an exit every fucking 3 miles, and it takes about an hour to walk from an exit to exit. But closest thing to resembling a building was good 10 miles behind me. I figured, I rather not get struck by a lightning, so what’s another 3 hours of walking? And then I turned around again because I thought that was a stupid idea. I’d never make it before I pass out from exhaustion. Why the hell did I even bring that much shit?I didn’t know if the next exit, located about a mile from where I was at, had a bridge under the freeway. If there wasn’t… well, I’d be screwed to say the least. And if there was, I could avoid the rain/thunder, camp out with the little food / water I had and weather the weather (pun intended), and more importantly, think about my next course of action. And lo and behold, after 20 minutes of walking, there was a bridge. Fuck yeah.So I got some rest, and immediately regretted the fact that I even came out on this trip. There was almost no traffic in that particular exit, so chances of me getting picked up was next to none. I tried to take a nap, but the sound of cars passing the bridge (which was constant) made it impossible. With my ingenuity (and technological advances of cellular phones), I found out that there was a small town 3 miles of that exist called Daggett. It looked like it had couple buildings and a post office, and I figured there would be some people or at least a place to sleep under the cover of building shade stuff. Not much, I know, but hey, it was the next closest thing to a civilization, so as the first drops of rain started pouring above my head, I headed for Daggett.A blue crew-cab truck was coming from that direction. I flagged it down, hoping whoever stopped would be kind enough to give me a ride to Daggett; I wanted to avoid the rain as much as possible. The white lady in her late 30s or early 40s in the car stopped, rolled the window down ever-so slightly.She sounded reluctant. And indeed, there was a kitten in a cage on her passenger seat.(I didn’t actually said this, but it was something like similar, I’d imagine.)This angel sent from the heavens above picked me up. And even though I was backtracking, the A/C and in comforts of a car, was fucking. She introduced herself as Lisa; we chatted a bit, and got to the animal shelter (fucking took 5 minutes to get there). After hearing my story, she was more than… confused, to say the least. But she finally regarded me as harmless, and asked me if I was hungry after dropping off the stray kitten. “YES PLEASE” I replied. Yeah, not really a great answer to that question.The kind lady called her husband, Tim the military man, and arranged to meet at a local diner, where she bought some food for me and gave me advices about the desert, about the foxes, snakes, and heat. Much better advices than the fucking useless survival guide book, I can tell you that. Lisa and her husband then offered to drop me off somewhere farther east and wished me luck. Then something changed.“We have a trailer house that needs fixing in Texas… Our tenants left and it’s draining our resources and the trailer park contacted us saying that it needed maintenance… Tim can’t go since he doesn’t have permission from his CO (Commanding Officer) to leave the area...”