Day 157: November 8 2009. Mile 26 on CA-98 to San Diego (26 mi)

I made it to San Diego. Not the the going out with a bang I wanted but I'm here, with the Pacific ocean right infront of me and its breeze running through my nose getting me high. Im in disbelief. I can't imagine. Ive seen a car with a surfboard today. Is it real?

I was up and skating at 6 and what a difficult start it was. Texas shitty roads, yes again. Then the heat picked up, then mountains and running of water. Its like everything, every obstacle has been put in my way in the end. During my skate (actually I was walking then because the road was terrible) I came across a cycler who stopped to talk.

"Brian Mc.. (I can't recall the last name). How are you?"

"Omar, nice to meet you"

"Walking across country?"

"Trying to, but actually I can't skate because of these shit roads. How are your wheels holding up on these roads?"

"Horrible. Im starting a petition against these roads. They just repaved it too. This country once had the best roads on earth"

That last sentence stuck with me for a while. Shitty ass fucking roads. Where's all the money going to? I said farewell to Brian and continued. The road was fucking long and hot and if it weren't for the border patrol agents who hooked me up with water, I would have ran out with 15 miles to go. With 8 miles still left, my knees were feeling like they needed to be replaced. My calves and thighs were sore too. I relaxed underneath the shade of a little bush. I kept going again and at about 1 PM was at the Texaco station at the little town of Ocitillo enjoying Flamin Hot Lays, Ginseng Iced Tea and Welchs Strawberry fruit snacks and mentally preparing for the interstate mountain passes coming up. I was sitting on a little curb finishing up my fruit snacks when I saw a really familiar face walking up to the register. As the person walked in I got up to see the license plate on his car; indeed it was an Arizona one. I knew this guy. Oh! It was another pedicabber.

I never even knew his name but on Halloween Saturday we were working in Tempe for the ASU vs Cal game. In the taxi line up, he was infront of me. A crew of six guys needed two cabs and since I was the one behind him I got the rest of the guys. The guys wanted me to race him about 2 blocks up to a bar called the library. He gave me a head start but still beat me in the end. That was all I knew of him. What he was doing in this tiny ass town this far from Arizona, was beyond me.

"Yo, are you a pedicabber?" I shouted as he walked back out of the gas station

"Aaaaah, yeah? Do I know you?"

"Yeah man, remember me? ASU vs Cal game in Tempe....Im a Bumblebee (pointing to the logo on my shirt)"

"Aaaaahh..."

"...we raced, you beat me.... I was wearing a wig?"

"Oh thats right! I remember you. What are you doing all the way out here?"

"Man Im trying to make it to San Diego. Where are you headed?"

"I have to take care of a pedicabbing ticket I got in San Diego"

"You mind if I ride with you?"

"No, not at all"

And so it was. I took the oppurtunity which was so random in this shit tiny gas station in the middle of nowhere California; I was there at the same time he was. Out of the 40 other pedicabbers that day he was the one infront of me and riders needed two, which was unusual. Eric was his name. And when we got to San Diego he introduced me to some other pedicabbers. I didn't want to ask of anything more of him. I really wanted to see the ocean, not the bay. Now, I was stressin about a place to stay. If it was in my destiny to be homeless, the so shall it be. I accepted that fate right then and there, for I knew it was what was best. But if I was to spend the night homeless in SAn Diego then it would at least be on the beach on the Pacific; the closest was 8 miles north of downtown and so I skated. I got to Point Loma, a suburb of San Diego and the sun was setting. There was no way I was going to make it 5 miles before dark so I turned back and walked into a McDonalds. An old Hawaiian woman came up to me and asked if I was travelling and after interviewing me for a little offered a place to spend the night. She said she would go ask her daughter and commanded me twice to wait on her there. I waited for a half hour and when she got back she apologized for her daughter couldn't take me in. I said it was alright and now really planned to sleep outside. As I was walking back to the bay on Harbor Drive a guy came up to.

"Have you been travelling?"

"Yeah man I just got into San Diego today"

"Did you walk the whole way?"

"Skated, walked, rode"

"Wow! Thats so cool!"

"Yeah man"

"So whats the craziest thing that happened?"

"Man to tell you the truth I haven't even started reflecting yet." I didn't want to talk, just lay out and be warm. I was too tired

"So what are you going to do now?"

"Man I gotta go find a place to sleep"

"I have a place you can spend the night and shower if you want"

"Really?!"

"Yeah, follow me"

"Man, you must be angel or something"

"Im John"

"And Im Omar"

And so it was. He saw me walking as he was standing on his apartment balcony and came to chase me down. Coincidence? Nah, I always said coincidence was unexplained reason. First night in San Diego, spent warm, amongst a quiver of 6 road nikes and 7 surfboards, in a house straight from the 70s. 70s style furniture, TVS and an old ass Atari.